Closing in on 4pm. Some of the balls thrown up way earlier are about to return, finally. Wondering whether there will be enough hands to catch all of them, but maybe there are still forces to keep them stuck a few feet above ground, motionless yet unreachable. Measuring achievements, closing eyes for a moment, opening again once the dancing spots settled. And stepping out of the flow for a while.
4pm and on the go again. Wild clouds, wild shadows on grey and brown hills. Concrete bridges and an uneven road. Muted everything because no music matches the moment. Inner dialogues like an audio book, challenged though to just step out and listen. Slow motion, little progress.
(Stickiger Hauch in engen Bahnen, zu viele Düfte Gespräche Bewegungen Farben und Schwindelgefühle. Aber auch kurze Wege in dichten Strukturen, allzeit Nähe von fast jedem Thema, das einen irgendwie zu erreichen, zu begeistern weiß. Und immer ein Baum neben allen Fassaden, unter dem sich Schatten finden lässt. Das seltsam ambivalente Privileg der Stadt.)
Closing in on 4pm. A thin layer of what seem compact clouds, and a soothing blue sky above. That kind of light again that makes old facades feel even older, more venerable, more respectful. Long-running phone calls next door, a printer leaving a paper trail, and a train hissing by on its lane. Ephemeral images of a fast-paced afternoon.
Irgendwo neben den Dörfern. Mittagsstille und Lärm diverser Motoren. Skeptische Krähen, Eichhörnchen auf Armlänge. Im Schwung bleiben, auch an Tagen, die Strukturverzicht ertragen können.
📷 lost-in-moments