Home again. Blisters on my feet after having walked for kilometers in my characters’ shoes, mind and heart full of fresh impressions, images and thoughts. With research material, some nostalgia, my favorite coffee and this beautiful Tibetan guy to watch over the new manuscript and new ideas.
This weekend, during a short roadtrip to the Swabian Jura. I not only marveled once more at how the bleeding heart, originating in China and brought to Europe by “my” botanist Robert Fortune around the middle of the nineteenth century, has become so typical for German cottage gardens.
I also thought about how this flower with its tiny tongues or flames (therefore sometimes also called flaming heart in German) corresponds with the spirit of Pentecost, for me the feast of inspiration and creativity, of a fresh wind and new beginnings. Especially this year, on the first pages of the next novel while brooding over new projects.
The power of creation, in every sense.
While summer has finally arrived, my mind is fully occupied with the beauty of snowflakes.
Watching time-lapse formation of snowflakes
Over the years, I’ve read several novels by Herman Wouk, but this one holds a special place in my heart.
Back when I was a teen, it was a favorite of both my mother’s and mine, countless times we used to borrow this 1983 edition from our local library. Mostly in summer, as it seems in hindsight. Endless and hot summers, at least that’s how I remember them, and sometimes we discussed Marjorie Morningstar well into the night. Without ever reaching common ground, we were like fire and water.
When I was eighteen, my mother died. Not long afterwards, I managed to get hold of this – our – copy at the local library’s sale.
I haven’t read it ever since. But it still is one of my most precious treasures.
The first few days after the finished manuscript …
Reason to celebrate a bit: The author copies for the French edition of «The Sky Above Darjeeling» have arrived – and meanwhile also some very lovely reviews from la belle France.
Today was sunny and warm, full of butterflies and bees. Hard to imagine that one year ago, it was so cold that there was ice floating in the port of Konstanz (which rarely ever happens).
At that time, I was musing about Katya, who knows to read the ice, and her brother Grischa, who has a special sense for wind and weather, both setting out from nineteenth-century Russia to make their fortune in the world.
One year later, while spring is settling in, a bit more each day, the outline I wrote in those freezing days is about to become the first volume of their saga.
Sunday with Katya and Grischa on their respective ways through the northern seas. Among other places, in Tromsø, in those days a little backwater of a port.
When you turn a stormtrooper upside down, you get a friendly snowman.
To me, that´s the essence of creativity: To see things from a fresh perspective. To discover the unexpected.
Two new Ganeshas got to travel home with me, in order to watch over new manuscripts and new ideas here and to remove any obstacles on the way.