« back to overview


Archive for March, 2013

the act of something new

published on: 31.03.2013 in: All entries

I sit next to a dancer in the darkness. She is my teacher and we see each other every week. But how well do we know each other? What do our bodies reveal in movement, gestures? In the vulnerable act of trying something you aren’t sure you can do. We are at a ballet performance, […]


the scratch

published on: 21.03.2013 in: All entries

A new table, perfectly polished, unspoiled. Its wood is soft and warm and welcoming. With nothing on it, not even a pen or a set of keys. You feel foolish for telling a friend to be careful. But when you next look, there is a scratch. It is a small scratch, barely noticeable from a […]


rest in peace

published on: 20.03.2013 in: All entries

I stood at a crossroad sipping my latte, a guilty pleasure of mine, waiting for the light to jump on green. A guy on a motorbike was waiting too. I smiled due to a second guilty pleasure – the fantasy of hopping on the back of that old-timer B&W, holding on to the athletic waist, […]


the trouble of looking for me

published on: 18.03.2013 in: All entries

While watching a TV show called “Memories” I think of what a therapist once told us, the father of our son and I. He said, “in a few years you’ll most likely look back at a situation like this and wonder what all the fuss was about. Was it really worth ruining things?” The TV […]


wish upon a star

published on: 13.03.2013 in: All entries

At night, I stand on a mountain under a sky dizzy with stars. I realize I can never look at stars again without hearing my son’s voice. A voice alive with curiosity. Mama, he says. Do shooting stars exist or are they make believe? They exist, I say. If I ever see one, I’ll wish […]


the promise

published on: 03.03.2013 in: All entries

Two friends promise each other eternal friendship. They go through life’s highs and lows together. As years progress, there are more lows than highs. One friend always feels she needs to help the other. Until the one who is helped decides it should stop. She no longer returns calls, she no longer writes. The one […]