Somebody tipped the window

Somebody tipped the window,
and now I've got all the
traffic on B10 for infotainment.

– Leonard "Lone Worker" Blumfeld

My new office at its very best. It's either too hot or too noisy... Thanks to the powers that sent me here.

This was intended to be a haiku but grew a little too fat. I'll call it a bigku (like the BigMac, which also has too much inside).

Letter to his older sister

Dear Mabelle,

I’ll order the squall jacket you recommded,
my that will be one fierce tendril less. I won’t flinch
no more with the crow at the emporium, as I used to,
and feel so small, like peppered rust reverberating.
Now there’s only one thing that remains to be said,
and that is that I dislike saffron, so contrary to your
advice I will not take those pills. CU tomorrow!

Bel-Ami

Written for napowrimo #22, in which the following words were proposed:

Going to Paris

I'm about to leave for Paris by TGV to spend the weekend there with good friends and to experience Jim Hall in concert on Sunday.

I'm not taking a computer along, so chances are I will not be able to participate in the next 3 napowrimo challenges.

Alchemy

I could use a little now and then.

Even right now. Limbo is impending, even though not quite upon me yet – my work situation is about to change radically. I won't work in the same place any longer, won't be around the same people, some of whom have become friends over the nearly three years I've been here.

I have all intentions to bid good-bye to my beloved, who is among these people. I've come to the conclusion that it will be best to cut ties completely to regain peace of mind and peace of heart.

So – let me try and work some alchemy, generate light that shines and points me in the right direction.

– Leonard "Alchemist" Blumfeld

Posted for Sunday Scribblings and Alchemy.

My demands

I am your star

but my wants are few –

give me yourself,

and you and you.

– Leonard “Dickinson” Blumfeld (© 2010)

Written for Sunday Scribblings. The task was to think of demands one would have as a mega ridiculous superstar on tour. While I’ve definitely missed the subject here, I like this somewhat Emily Dickinsonian ditty in all its simplicity, if I may say so myself.

Today's horoscope says romance

Romance is in the air today, L.B. Take that special woman in your life and do something completely different. Get last-minute tickets to a rock concert, or arrange to spend the day canoeing. Do something to shake up your relationship a bit. It is at risk of becoming a bit stale. If there is no one special in your life right now, call a good friend to see if he can set you up with someone. This is no time to be alone!

No, this does not feel like a romantic day at all. I'm afraid the computer that put this horoscope together is even more wrong than usual.

A. That special woman in my life - if I may call her that - would definitely not be thrilled by a last-minute rock concert. She prefers classical or Russian. And canoeing is out. Did that computer take into account the weather hereabouts? This is more the time for ice skating than water sports.

B. Yes, things are a bit stale in that they're not moving at all. Haven't been much in over a year. In fact, calling it a relationship at all would be exaggerating. Even though there are relationships of all kinds. This is definitely one of all kinds.

C. I wouldn't know which friend to call for that.

D. I completely agree - this ain't no time to be alone. Nobody should be. Not even a recluse* such as I.

* I've been called that by my dear ex-wife numerous times (always feeling that I'd been completely misunderstood in 19 years of marriage). And a British friend recently called himself that and seemed to imply the same for me. The truth: I'm just like anybody else, need time with others and time by myself.

Len "Temporarily Recluded" Blumfeld

The weather situation

cannot be called extreme by any means (compared to Kazakhstan, for example, where they have -40 °C, I've heard), but we have had one of the biggest snow falls in this city I can remember, and it feels extremely cold even though it's only slightly below freezing.

I certainly would wish for more induration on my part.

Time to go out, do some dutiful shoveling and perhaps take a picture.*

A not so extreme contribution for Sunday Scribblings and a not so poetic one for One Single Impression.

* Shoveling completed, picture taken, picture added.

Such an intense exchange of glances

and now I wonder about sustainability!

Am I the ultimate sentimental myth maker I sometimes think I am? (Based on the fact that I see whole landscapes where others merely perceive a wall.)

Nevertheless: my love looks stunning today – I'm awed and humbled that such beauty exists.

– Leonard "Mythologist" Blumfeld

Saturday in November

Oh what a nuisance leaves can be.
Even though they're pretty the way they've turned yellow and brown.
Especially on a dry, surpringly warm Saturday in latish November.
But they also get soaked and ground-sticky and broom-resistant.
Razor-edge-of-time experience reported here.
Yes, this weekend it's my turn to clean the common areas of the building.
I've only done the outside part of it, and now have to leave because I'm going to a friend's open studio show in Ludwigsburg.
There's always tomorrow for the rest, right? Right.

Leonard "On Razor's Edge" Blumfeld

I'm in one of those

... everything sucks (even though I should know better and be grateful for what I have) moods.

Work sucks, love sucks, there isn't any sense to life.

You get the general picture.

I'd prefer to simply leave, go home and sleep.

– Len "Deep"* Blumfeld

* Short for "depressed".

First comment (from anonymous): Get some antidepressant, dude. Half the U.S. is on something or other.

Alternating current

Looks like the downward half of the sinusoidal curve is here again.
Friendly, noncommittal treatment. Turndowns I find offensive because they go overboard in being turndowns.
Like this:
"Would you like half of one of these?"
"No, I don't like chocolate crescents."
"I normally don't like them much, either. But they looked so cute with the chocolate stripes on top I couldn't resist."
"Without the chocolate stripes I would have liked them."
Get the point?

Leonard "Raging Inside" Blumfeld

She's doing it again...

(For A.B., as usual)

Just for the momentary* record: she's doing it again –
sending me to a different world as in She says.

L.B.

* Who knows how long this phase will last in this oh so mercurial sentimental world of mine.

Blumfeld's back

Oh no - it's been weeks since my last appearance here.

What have I been doing?

Lots.

Let's see - there was an Indian event here in Stuttgart, for which I organized some of the music (Subroto Roy Chowdhury on sitar, accompanied by Sanjib Pal). There was a trip to Munich to see my daughter before the end of her semester break. We dived into the art world by visiting an exhibition of Pakistani sufi posters and the gigantic Alfons Mucha show (art nouveau), which included some of his well-known posters but other works as well, including some bombastic Pan-slavic megalomania paintings.

My love life's been on the rocks and mostly in the dumps.

Strangely enough, I can't seem to enjoy life when I do not allow myself to be in love (and yes, with that one particular woman I've been writing for, to and about for the last year and a half).

Bye for now during a break in work.

Don't tell the boss.

– Len "Heartbreaker" Blumfeld

They like each other / a true picture

Is that a cow?
No, too small.
Holy cow, it is a llama.
And that little animal next to it?
Holy pig, it is a pig.
A llama cuddling with a pig
in the Bavarian Alps,
how about that.

– Leonard “Vicaricator” Blumfeld (© 2009)

An actual experience (my daughter's) retold vicariously.

Weird dream

Had a weird dream last night...
It all started out with me having to wait (for whom or what I do not remember) in a busy pedestrian zone. But lo and behold I had all the facilities with me to set up my laptop and watch a Bollywood movie. So I watched it for a while, moving my pedestrian zone cinema substitute one time when I realized I was in the way. Other than that nobody paid much attention. Until a woman I recognized as a neighbor walked by, started talking to me and proposed moving the installation to her place. Which I did. Sooner rather than later we found ourselves kissing, then moving to her bedroom for more. Oh, I forgot that she also had a baby, possibly three months old, and an older companion, around 60. I originally thought they were sisters. Just as we were in bed, without many stitches on as I seem to recall, her whole family walked in. I felt embarrassed, but she didn't seem to mind all these people milling around us. She and they went to another room. Only one of the relatives remained with me, an older guy, a freckly redhead. He asked me how I felt? I mumbled something about odd, awkward, embarrassed, etc. He said he understood. In the closing scene, I, once again fully dressed, entered the other room, where my lady was in bed with her companion and the baby, surrounded by everyone else. Everybody was at ease and chatting away. The last thought I remember is that I felt uneasy because I still did not understand the relationships among all these people. But they seemed to accept my presence all right – as whatever. Or did they simply not notice me?

– Len "Sexy Dream" Blumfeld

Cipation

I’m at a curious stage now, where there’s a lull induced by a two-week vacation. Everything’s on hold, sort of, and, apart from a framework of some planned work and engagements, I do not know what will happen afterwards regarding a certain person. Make that two. Nothing might happen. Things might go on as suspended and stop-and-go as they have been. “Keep on patiently, like you have been,” the Italian tarot lady said, “trust your feeling and do not listen to anyone else.” So I keep it up, more or less, wavering, just like anybody else, between hope and disillusionment. Some sort of cipation. Not quite anti.

– Leonard “Antipicator” Blumfeld

Written for Sunday Scribblings and Anticipate.

Personal weather situation

How's your personal weather today?
I'm a bit under the weather. Quite a bit under the weather, actually.
So what happened to cloud your skies?
There's an uncomfortable draft in my face, but also some stillness that isolates me.
Oh my! Whereabouts are you?
Stuck in the desert of my own mind and feelings as usual.

– Len "Mind Desert" Blumfeld

Human

For A.B. as usual

She had on a smile occasionally
and sang a little bit.
Maybe she's in love with somebody.
But me it would be not.

– Len "Takes Her Home" Blumfeld

Posted for 'human' at Sunday Scribblings.

Written in a somewhat epigonal vein running from Amaru to about Rabindranath Tagore.

Blumfeld interviewed by Psychotic News

PN: Thanks for the opportunity to interview you, Mr. B.
LB: Call me Len, please.
PN: Mr. B., you told us that you have a history of being invisible...
LB: Yes, that happens sometimes.
PN: What happens exactly?
LB: I'm among people and say something, and it's as if I wasn't even there, or in a different time slot.
PN: That sounds quite speculative. What about the other people – do you see them?
LB: Yes, they seem quite normal to me.
PN: And you consider yourself the abnormal one?
LB: Yes.
PN: Like you're not fit to be around the human race?
LB: Yes.
PN: Has it occurred to you that you might be an alien?
LB: Alien, yes, but not an alien.
PN: ...
LB: You were saying?
PN: ...
LB: Yes?
PN: Mr. Blumfeld, where are you? Are you there? Hello?
LB: (can obviously no longer be seen or heard)
PN: This, dear audience, was the interview with Leonard Blumfeld – a man who said he had illusions of invisibility and who indeed has become invisible.

– Len "No See" Blumfeld

Up the creek without a paddle

Has that ever happened to you?
You were paddling along just fine downriver, with one useful but unloved paddle in one hand and about half of another paddle somewhere in between hand and bush, when that unloved paddle became too unloved and the longing for the half-paddle became more important?
Eventually, you got disgruntled enough to discard the unloved albeit useful paddle, suddenly found yourself going upriver, and the half-paddle turned out to be entirely elusive?
OK, so I'm talking in riddles here, but the situation is pretty clear: up shit creek without a paddle.
Scared shitless and almost willing to turn around again to grasp for what might remain of the unloved paddle...

– Len "Master of Self-Inflicted Riddles" Blumfeld