#56 THOUGHTS

Am I only complaining ? Cause I do feel like I am at the moment. Complaining about myself, about my life and - of course -  about my art. About the money I really never have (nothing new actually), about the weather (which is in fact really good over here compared to Germany), about my flatmates keeping the apartment pretty messy (hate it!) and here and there some guys being silly little boys. Well, as you see, actually I am just complaining about myself, because that is where it all comes from. Being happy is a decision, one I did make. I am happy. It still feels like there is those little piece missing, the writing - as usual - the art. I want to write. I have to write. It is the missing piece. So, well, I am on it. I mean, not to write some nonsense like that, but some useless sh**. Some articles to help you guys out there making the most of their travels, no matter if long or short. You look at all these great travel blogs, being inspired, amazed and intimated. How do they write those beautiful lines ? How did they get through all these html sh** ? Why can I not write like that ?

Well, let's find out and give it a shot, cause that is all I have.

**This post is so much more for me, but that is how I want this to be. This blog, mine. Authentic and honest.

#54 FAILURE

Up and down. Down and up - that's life man ! Well, dude, sometimes life just sucks. Sometimes it really sucks.

For me it did during the last weeks for several reasons. (Spoiler alarm) I am going to put more about that story down tomorrow in an amazing Diary post, which you guys should definitely read !
However, to come back to the sense of this one - one reason for why I was pretty down was the World Nomads travel writing scholarship.
Those of you who directed their little white arrow on these blue letters where let to a new page, demonstrating my failure when it comes to 'being an aspiring travel writer' in the eyes of their jury. Don't get me wrong, I am not a native English speaker, neither am I close to be a professional travel writer or something like that. I was aware of that I did never really have a big chance to win those contest, with it's even amazing price - but there was those little spark of hope that kept me praying for success.
So, as you can probably guess - after they announced the winners on their website (which wrote some incredible stories down that you should definitely check out by the way), I got pretty depressed. Did not want to write. Decided to just live the 'backpacker life'. Went out, went to work, watched the complete eight season of Supernatural. (Yes, I am addicted)
I guess I missed this. I missed my free time during all those time I invested in improving my writing, planing my articles and dreaming about the future. But at the end of the day - something was missing, something kept me from sleeping as well as I did before. Writing.
So? I experienced failure, I took my time. Now I want to go back, listen to my heart and just write it all down. Because I don't really care if anybody does really take the time to read all this - I need it, my soul needs it to communicate with my brain. To gently fall asleep at the end of each day, knowing that it was sieved.
I do what I've always done since I can think - I do bleed my heart out through my art.

So here's my insufficient article, followed by a short essay about why I should have been chosen as a winner of that contest. (Haha)

A local encounter that changed the way I perceive the world forever

I was sitting on my double bed back home, talking to my beloved mother while enjoying some leftovers from the evening before.

“I will take care of myself mum, don't worry”, were the words I repeated so often these weeks that they could have been one of those annoying slogans they keep airing in everyday American soaps.

And even if her worries didn't fail to have an impact on me – the most dominant picture I caught sight of nevertheless was mainly composed of colorful lines of hope carried by a similarly arranged background of excitement.
Although I knew that I wouldn't change the world – the wish of making at least a small difference through volunteering as an English teacher in India was deeply engraved in my heart.

Aesthetic red and gold Saris against the decaying environment.

My student Gita – who invited me for having dinner with her family that evening - had led me through narrow lines of the slum that were utterly polluted with towering mounds of rubbish. And even if she would have given me a window of opportunity to share my thoughts, I doubt that I could have been able to think of any appropriate comments when facing the four square meter room that she calls home.

There was no bed. There was no toilet. There was no kitchen.

Silver glances of light led my attention to a cherubic little girl, revealing her to be the source of a genuine laugh. Surrounded by walls covered in mold, my host's daughter sat on a ragged bamboo mat and concentrated on a game she played on a phone that was older than myself. The last rays of sunshine found their way easily through the broken window and highlighted some of the narrow bones the child's fragile skin failed to hide.

Recognizing Gita's expectant gaze, I forced my mouth to reveal a smile, which came out more like an aching grimace. “It is not much, but that's all we need”, the Indian reassured with a bright, genuine grin – expressed through all 42 human facial muscles.

Seduced by the appetizing odor of the food her mother served later, two more gleaming pairs of eyes joined us and the six of us enjoyed Chapati bread with Dal.

The frayed bamboo mat was more comfortable than any chair, the shattered window allowed a pleasing breeze to enter and the proximity we kept gave me an insight into the family's soul which was fulfilled in the most beautiful way.

I caught a tear glistening in my eyes when saying goodbye to Gita later - the most prosperous woman who has ever crossed my path.

I am not your teacher. You are mine.

Why should I be chosen ?

“And no heart has ever suffered when it goes in search of it's dream” -Paulo Coelho

Sterile white walls surrounding me, the monotonous noises of the blunt clock I am facing build up the illusion of it standing still, the familiar odor of fear stuck in my nose stronger than ever before.

The pressure of not knowing exactly if something is wrong or how severe it can be is absolutely overwhelming.

There is nothing I can do, nothing I can change about it.

All I do is praying for a positive diagnosis of the doctor – for a positive diagnosis of your judges.

Is my writing good enough ?

This little girl doesn't know much about art, neither does she know much about herself. The only thing she knows for sure is that it has the power to make her feel complete. It makes her forget everything else, it gives her the ability to express not only thoughts but deepest feelings in the most beautiful way and the ability to turn her mouth into this ever so slight smile will always be reserved for art.

I am deeply in love with transforming a plain sheet of paper into an expressive piece of writing invoking the assistance from only a simple pen and I would be more than grateful about the opportunity of learning how to improve my skills from an expert. It would bring me a big step closer to my dream of being able to afford a simple lifestyle through my stories one day and to send out messages that not only I, but so many beautiful people I met on my travels so far, want to share with a bigger audience.

#53 PLANS

Aren't we all dreaming a lot ? Aren't we saying 'what if' too often ? Why don't we just do it ? Why don't we all just live our dreams ?

There are so many people out there which are stuck in there office job, struggling to get to the end of each single day without the smallest piece of passion for what they do anymore. “It is good money”, “I worked so hard to get here” , “What else should I do?” … How do you call it ? - stupid excuses ?
If you are not happy about your job, your relationship or (worst of all) your life in generall – just change it ! We all have those big, unreachable dream that we might call stupid from time to time. That one dream that always stay's to bring a hint of light in out darkest hours, to lead us back to those shining hope when we are close to give up. But we do only have those one, limited life gifted to us by something higher. So what are we waiting for ? So why don't we just life it ? Why don't we just go for it ? Why don't we just ****ing do it ?

I have been looking at things so much, I have been thinking so much, I made so endless numbers of plans in my head. I painted these incredible, stunning picture in my head. It showed my inner eyes a beautiful life, the life I would have when following all of those plans I had (and still have). If I would just do it, if I would just convert all those thoughts in actions... I was stuck at the beginning of the road, unable to realize that my tank is full, concentrated on planing the way while I did not even started the journey. It was so easy to get lost in my own head, easy to stay there and to pretend.

But don't you buy a flower to look at it. You inhale it's tasty odor to exhale all of your bad vibes. So, how long does that last if you don't water the flower? Whether you forget it, don't find the time to do it or don't have the liquid to water it. The flower can't take it into account, the flower won't have the smallest choice, the flower will just die - slowly. It will loose it beautiful leaves, it's shining color will fade and it's head will face the dead ground on which it is based. Why do we keep plants if we don't nourish them ? Why do we kill?

I do not want to let all of my flowers die but to find those diet out of thousands that makes them growing even taller and colors them brighter. I realized that I do not have to change my dreams, that I don't have to buy new flowers, but to change my daily actions to led me there someday.

You – only you – are the author of the story they call life, of your story. I am gonna write mine in a way I will never regret. What about you ?

#46 080516

Working, sleeping, eating, exploring – repeat. That describes our life here in Sydney pretty much this time. Around seven weeks are left till my journey will continue and those of my friend will find it's end. Yesterday she booked her flight back home, back to reality, to normality yesterday and we both agree that it feels quite strange now that it is fixed, now that we got a date to say goodbye. 10 months of traveling will be over – life just goes on.

And for me ? I don't know. Maybe I am going to stay here in Australia for a while, maybe I will directly escape to my beloved Asia. All I know is that I feel - beside a lot of happiness – some fear.
But please don't get me wrong here, it is no common, not even a negative fear - no fear I could name but one that I know. The fear that you get when standing in front of a solo trip, in front of all the memories you are going to collect, all the great experiences that promise you on the other hand to also come with some bad ones. I love it, I love being alone, I love traveling alone. But I also know it and guess that is why I am kind of scared – scared of being on my own. The fear of being in trouble, of running out of money, of being lost. And just as much as big as those fear is is the warmth in my hearth when looking forward to all those things.

I guess I will make a kind of a plan this time, I will keep you up to date and bring the time of my life to an end that honors it properly.

Arbeiten, schlafen, essen, die Umgebung erkunden und nochmal von vorn. Das trifft es ziemlich auf den Punkt, beschreibt unser Leben hier momentan grob, aber treffend. 7 Wochen verbleiben, 7 Wochen bis die Reise meiner Freundin ihr Ende findet und die meine weitergeht. Gestern hat sie endgueltig ihren Ruecklug gebucht und es damit ausgesprochen - schwarz auf weiss – zurueck zur Normalitaet, zurueck zur Routine, zurueck zu Freunden und Familie. Wir beide sind uns einig dass dies ein seltsames Gefuehl mit sich bringt. Nach 10 Monaten des Reisens geht das Leben dann einfach weiter.

Und ich ? Gute Frage. Vielleicht werde ich mir noch ein Wenig Zeit in Australien nehmen, vielleicht direkt zurueck zu meinem geliebten Asien. Alles was ich sicher weiss ist, dass ich – neben der grossen, ehrlichen Vorfreude – ein schleichendes aber doch schweres Gefuehl von Angst ertappe.
Versteht mich nicht falsch – es ist nicht diese gewoehnliche, negative Angst, keine die ich benennen koennte, aber doch ein Gefuehl, welches mir bekannt ist. Es ist diese Art von Angst auf die man wie gegen eine enorme Wand prallt, wenn man seinem bevorstehenden Solo-Trip in die Augen schaut, all die einem bevorstehenden, wundervollen Erfahrungen begruesst, aber nunmal auch zwangsweise all jene schlechten, erdrueckenden.

Ich liebe es, ich liebe es alleine zu sein, alleine zu reisen. Aber ich kenne es mittlerweile nur zu gut, was vermutlich die Ursache dieser Angst ist – ich fuerchte mich davor wieder auf mich allein gestellt zu sein.

Angst vor Schwierigkeiten, davor dass das Geld nicht reicht, davor verloren zu gehen. Und doch ebenso gross wie benannte Angst ist meine Vorfreude auf all dies.

Dieses Mal werde ich wohl einen Plan machen, euch auf dem Laufenden halten und dieser unglaubliche Zeit, dieser Reise ihr wuerdiges Ende erweisen.

 

#45 ARTICLE

Hey there ! I just want to share my first published article with you guys, would love if you have a look and leave your thought ! :)

http://travelicious.world/?p=20534

#43 RESET

My head - my whole life - is kind of a mess these times. It feels like I am standing next to an extraneous version of myself , responsive watching it managing life somehow without even picking up any pieces of the 'how'. I guess it is caused by all of the new inputs, all of the lectures and experiences I gain over here in Australia each day, but also by the fact that I am already tired of keeping myself busy with all the confusing html-stuff I had to manage so far on my incomplete blog. As if it wouldn't be one of the biggest challenges for me to even prepare my writings, my feelings and thoughts for publishing them online at one point, online where everybody - without exception - has the permission the see and to judge them.. Trust me, it is even bigger than I have ever excepted.  It is my Art which I throw out in that big world and beyond, which I throw so far away that I can hardly see or even influence where it will might land.  That scares me a lot, to be honest. It provides a incredible amount of opportunities - just as much to rise as to fall- it opens tons of doors which  I would probably rather keep closed when respecting the ends of my comfort zone. But isn't that what it is about ? Not only Art - or whatever your passion is -, not traveling, not any other challenge you are confronted with but life. Life means to break out of your comfort zone - to kick it borders with your dirty feet and to honor it with the biggest smile you can find just as deep inside of you as you get in that very moment. So that's why I do really want to change something here. I don't want to force myself to publish 'many' posts a week, but to publish those I do really like. I want to show you those stuff I feel comfortable with to prepare you - as well as myself - good enough for any criticism that will be made. Further I want to try to always take the time to compose them in German as well as I love to spot the differences in how I phrase things which are actually having the same meaning.

Please  feel free to leave me a comment !
What do you think about that ?
Do you understand what I mean ?
How do you like mt template ? Any tips?

Mein Kopf - mein ganzes Leben - ist leer, mitten im nirgendwo, hat sich verlaufen. Als wuerde ich neben einer unbekannten Version meiner selbst stehen fuehlt es sich an, sie interessiert dabei beobachten wie sie es irgendwie schafft das Leben zu meistern ohne aber auch nur den kleinsten Hauch dabei aufgreifen, geschweige denn lerenn zu koennen. Vermutlich liegt es an all den neuen Eindruecken, den Lehren und Erfahrungen die ich hier in Australien jeden Tag sammeln darf, aber genauso an der Muedigkeit die mich schon jetzt nach all dem html-Zeug das zu studieren war ergreift und sogar beinahe erfolgreich zu sich hinunter zieht. Glaubt mir, meine Texte, Gedanken und Gefuehle im Internet veroeffentlichen zu wollen ist allein schon eine unglaublich grosse Herausforderung fuer mich. Ich kratze das bisschen Kraft dass mir nach dem Verfassen uebrig bleibt von Boden auf und verwende es um sie soweit in die grosse weite Welt hinauszuschmeissen dass ich weder sehen koennte wo sie hinfliegen, geschweige denn irgendeine Moeglichkeit haette ihre Laufbahn zu beeinflussen. (InMathe war ich nie gut). Aber geht es nicht genau darum ? Ich rede nicht von der Kunst - oder einer anderen Leidenschaft die in all den Menschen da draussen schlummert - , nicht vom Reisen oder einer anderen Herausforderung vor die wir gestellt werden, sondern ganz schroff vom Leben. Leben bedeutet nunmal seine Komfortzone zu verlassen - ihre Grenzen mit den dreckigen Fuessen zu streten und dem Ganzen das strahlendste Grinsen zu schenken dass man sich dann noch voller Stolz  abverlangen kann.

Lange Rede, kurzer Sinn. Ich moechte ein wenig etwas hier veraendern. Was ? Mal gucken.
Was ich weiss ist, dass ich es von nun an sein lassen werde mich selbst unter Druck zu setzen, mir nicht mehr vorzunehmen 'so und so viel pro Woche zu posten' sondern wirklich zu selektieren und nur jene zu veroeffentlichen mit denen ich mich gut fuehle und hinter denen ich mit samt meines blutigem Herzen stehe - waere es anders wuerde es mich doch sehr beunruhigen. Ausserdem moechte ich mir definitiv die Zeit nehmen weiterhin, neben der englischen Version, in Deutsch zu schreiben - ich beobachte einfach unglablich gern wie unterschiedlich ein und der selbe Sinn dabei verdeutlicht wird. (Ausserdem halte ich mein Englisch nicht fuer perfekt, was aber in diesem Fall nebensaechlich ist)

Was haltet ihr davon ?
Versteht ihr was ich meine ? Kennt ihr es vielleicht sogar?Wie gefaellt euch mein Template ? Ihrgendwelche Tips ?

#35 LEAVES OF GRAS

In the moment I saw this picture I knew that I wanted to post it with the following text.

Walt Whitman's Leaves of Grass is and will always be one of my favorite books.

The spotted hawk swoops by and accuses me, he complains of my gab
    and my loitering.

I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable,
I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.

The last scud of day holds back for me,
It flings my likeness after the rest and true as any on the shadow'd wilds,
It coaxes me to the vapor and the dusk.

I depart as air, I shake my white locks at the runaway sun,
I effuse my flesh in eddies, and drift it in lacy jags.

I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love,
If you want me again look for me under your boot-soles.

You will hardly know who I am or what I mean,
But I shall be good health to you nevertheless,
And filter and fibre your blood.

Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged,
Missing me one place search another,
I stop somewhere waiting for you

Song about myself - Part 52

In dem Moment in dem ich dieses Bild entdeckt habe wusste ich welchen Text ich dazu zitieren moechte.

Walt Whitmans Grashalme ist und wird fuer immer eines meiner liebsten Buecher bleiben.

Die Falkeneule schweift vorbei und klagt mich an; sie beschwert sich über mein Plaudern und Zögern.
       Ich bin auch gar nicht zahm, bin auch unübersetzbar;
       Ich lasse mein barbarisches Geschrei erschallen über die Dächer der Welt.
      Des Tages letzter Schimmer verweilt noch um meinetwillen.
       Er legt mein Ebenbild mit andern und treu wie irgendeins auf die schattendunkle Wildnis;
       Es lockt mich in Nebel und Dunkel hinein.
       Ich scheide wie die Luft; ich schüttle meine weißen Locken gegen die enteilende Sonne hin;
      Ich ergieße mein Fleisch in Wirbeln und lasse es hintreiben in fadigen Streifen.
       Ich vermache mich dem Schmutz, um aus dem Grase, das ich liebe, emporzutreiben;
       Wenn du mich wieder brauchst, so suche mich unter deinen Stiefelsohlen.
       Kaum wirst du wissen, wo ich bin, oder was ich meine;
       Trotz allem aber werde ich dir gut bekommen,
       Und klären und kräftigen dein Blut.
       Wenn du mich nicht sogleich verstehst, bleibe dennoch guten Mutes.
       Findest du mich nicht an einer Stelle, so suche mich an einer andern.
       Irgendwo halte ich mich auf und warte auf dich. 

Gesang von mir selbst Part 52