Friday, October 9, 2026

Noise


Being a reluctant and foreign part of an assembly of natives, I try my best to get the gist of what’s on the agenda. However, given the inborn nature of these natives – which is to be extremely talkative and get heated up about things very easily – and a particular medical condition I have (my ears simply cannot filter out individual voices in loud groups), most of it is incomprehensible to me, like white noise.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2026)

Note
This little shred of prose is definitely based on real experience.

Friday, October 2, 2026

Another Day

Today’s Friday, and so far it’s been lousy. I ride my bike from one dumpster location to the next, rummage through the bins in search of something saleable or reusable. Slim pickings today. No scrap metal to sell to Bruno, no electronic gadgets that look like they could be fixed, no clothes I could resell. It’s past noon – time to have something to eat. I’m terribly hungry. No need to pull out my wallet – all it contains is some copper coins, and those won’t buy a thing. 

Not much is happening, people are at home cooking or eating. I’ve been sitting on the wall across from the dumpsters on Via Sapori – away from the ones that stink the most – for half an hour. But wait – here comes someone. It’s the guy that’s given me something occasionally. Let’s try!

Hooray, I’m getting there – he gave me some brass! Now all I need is another generous sponsor like him. If all else fails, I can walk over to aunty Tsura, who’s sitting on her usual lunchtime bench, and ask her for some crumbs. She usually has enough and doesn’t mind sharing.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2026)

Note
This is a fundamentally true story told from the point of view of another person and was written down for Friday Writings #247: Reframing Negative Concepts.


Wednesday, September 30, 2026

Sunday, September 27, 2026

The old movie haiku


Dr. Shiv still thriving
on TV sixty-one years
after its release.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2026)

Notes
This little ditty refers to a movie which could be called Die Hard No. 2 (Die Hard No. 1 would be Gone with the Wind) because it inevitably keeps coming back to the screen – at least that of television sets. Dr. Shivago, which hit the cinemas in 1965 (sixty-one years ago), turned the impersonator of its protagonist, Egyptian actor Omar Sharif, into a big movie star. He is shown here in a still shot from the film taken from a flat screen TV (hence the horrible moiré effect) with a cell phone camera.

Friday, September 25, 2026

Someone's autumn is another one's spring

It feels like a headstand
to think of spring
now that everything here is
turning yellow and orange
and dropping off

Not that easy to comprehend
things are shooting out
of the ground, turning
green and flowery and
unfolding down south

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2026)

Written for Friday Writings #246: Light-hearted words for Spring (the prompt originated in the southern hemisphere).

Wednesday, September 23, 2026

Turquoise Night


Posted for Wordless Wednesday. Digital photograph created with Vignette for Android on a Sony Xperia MiniPro. Also available for collectors on Objkt.

Saturday, September 19, 2026

Family, well ...

 Family’s great, right? And blood is thicker than water, right? Well, well, well ...

My father had a five siblings – Christine, Otto, Ernest, Emmy, Eugene. He, William, was the baby.

In general, the brothers and sisters got along very well, particularly while their parents were alive, but there were some issues that came up as they got older.

Their father had a company, and soon the question arose who would follow in his footsteps. This was in the 1930s, so – of course – the girls were not even considered. It was then that Otto said he didn’t want Bill in the management even though by that time he had a degree in engineering and was well qualified. However, the rest of the siblings, including my aunts, vetoed this, so the management ended up being a board of four. Gene, the businessman, had a brain for numbers and was largely responsible for business decisions. Ernest largely called the product development shots, coming up with mostly good ideas but also some that ended up losing money. Bill was inventive and a problem solver. He had the ability to turn something from the drawing board into a perfectly functioning product. Otto – well, no-one knew exactly what his contribution was. He spent most of his time walking around the halls and barking commands at the workers. Who mostly shook their heads behind his back.

Things went fairly well for all appearances. But underneath the surface there was a bitter rivalry between Ernest and Eugene, which was also fomented by their wives, neither of whom had a single good word to say about the other. Their children learned to disklike each other and be envious and wary of each other at an early age. Even the dogs – one per family – hated each other and would fight, sometimes with serious injuries, whenever they had a chance.

My sister and I – Bill’s offspring – were quite a bit younger than our cousins, generally got along with everyone and were too naive to perceive the numerous tensions.

Once the older generation retired, the company essentially passed on to Ernest’s son-in-law and Eugene’s son, who had to get along to some extent but had completely opposite views and made no secret of their mutual disdain.

The company continues to exist and thrive to this very day, now in the fourth generation, still run by family members who basically hate each other, agree on hardly anything and still somehow keep pulling things together.

But that’s family, right?

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2026)

Written for Friday Writings #245: Family.

Disclaimer
Similarities with people living or dead are entirely coincidental.

Cefalù, Sicily


A view of Cefalù, Sicily, from a nearby beach. Strange colors due to the creative film used. Available as a collectible.

Leica R5 with 50 mm Leitz Summilux on Lomochrome Turquoise film.

Friday, September 18, 2026

The lucky haiku


Haiku! he said as 
part of a sneeze. As we all 
know, this brings good luck.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2026)