Jul 092015
Option 1
And then she sends me a postcard. A sketch from the Käthe Kollwitz Museum. Our first trip. Two decades ago. The first flush of love.
‘Saw this and thought of you… Do you want to come and live in Berlin? I’m lonely too.’
But I am a writer. German is the wrong language.
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That’s always been my thought about living anywhere else than the UK – indeed, London, whose slang and polyinflected argot I love…
It’s especially hopeless for a poet. It’s just a complete non-starter to try and share work with non-native-English speakers.
But what a culturally enlivening place to live – I like where the fiction is going.
Yes Bruce, Berlin’s a wonderfully stimulating place for creative people. It feels so ‘fringe’, boho, slightly anarchical, and with that alluring history of hedonism… and then the suffering, the bombing, the rupture into two cities…
I am tempted and torn.
Love the big hands and feet in this painting, even though yours are not like this in real life! Also, why is Germany so romantic? (It is for me too.)
Fran, my hands and feet are big because Helen was sitting close to them then looking up at me. But I agree she has really emphasised them. I like them that way too.
Good question, why is Germany so romantic? Maybe I’ve partially answered this in my response to Bruce…