Erbarme dich

A new book by Marleen Decree was presented last night February 24th in Gallery The Black Panter.
The whole chapel was packed. I was a bit late and only had a seat on the first row...
The sequence of such presentations is always the same: There is the person who does the introduction: Johan van Cauwennberghe introduced the book Erbarme Dich, as always a smart analysis of the poetry at hand. Also we got some insights about what had inspired Marleen: This time Marleen had fallen in love with the photographs by Mirjam Devriendt of the sculptures by Hilde De Bruyckere. So she wrote a series of poems inspired by these photographs. As always there was wonderful music on a huge but sensitive Theorbe... performed by Floris De Rycker. The people showed up... the room was filled by her admirors and friends. Marleen read a few of her poems. I was a bit sick, so I skipped the fun early. Also not to pass on my bad cough. Her publisher Leo Peeraer gave the first copies to Marleen and Floris and Adriaan.

I gave her my texts of Blaise Cendrars and am curious as to what she will be doing with it... since they are leaving for their stay in France...

neighbors in a big building

My neighbor is 83. She is also forgetful and lonely. So since I am closest to her, she drops in, comes by and walks in the city, probably finding some friends. She also eats out a lot. She enjoys being among people and dislikes having to eat on her own. So tonight I'll share my sturdy lentil soup with her. Some people you get to know, you learn how they tick, what their issues are. For Lucy, it is mainly loneliness, a daughter in cape town, a son in Los Angeles. For her age she is well groomed and good looking. Another neighbor is heavily invested in the local church. Another one, a man has the weirdest collections: angels, teddy bears, printing letters... He keeps the spot immaculate. And then there are the noisy neighbors...

Poem in Dutch:

De kraaien

Ik woon onder een kraaienfamilie

rumoerige buren

nee, dit is geen metafoor

het zijn echte kraaien

zwart glimmend in regen, hagel

zon en wind

Ik zie hoe ze even die extra vleugelslag geven

om op het dak te landen

Maar weet niet of het altijd dezelfde kraai is

met altijd een ander takje

Soms hoor ik hen rommelen op het dak

keitjes herschikken

en vraag me af of ze een versterkt

kraaienkasteel bouwen of een burcht

of ze steentjes dragen in hun snavel

en ze laten vallen als hagel

zomaar om te rumoeren en te spelen

Het hele dak is van hen

ik ben onderdak met hen

dit gezelschap van kraaien

boven mij

en woon in de wereld onder ‘t

kraaiennest

voel me oude zeerover

of misschien verander ik zelf

en wordt een oude kraai

maar geen witte raaf

met wit haar

*

The crows

I live under a family of crows

noisy neighbours

no, this is not a metaphor

it are real crows

black shining in the rain, hail

sun and wind

I see how they briefly give an extra flap of the wing

to land on the roof

yet I do not know whether it is always the same crow

with always a different branch

Sometimes I hear the rummaging on the roof

rearrange the pebbles

en wonder whether they are building a strong

crow castle or a stronghold

or carry stones in their beak

and drop them with a sond of hail

just to make noise and to play

The whole roof is theirs

I am with them under their roof

this company of crows

above me

and live in the world under the

crows nest

feel like an old sailor

or maybe I do change

and become an old crow

myself.

 

Derroll Adams

Widows do have a task, that is to keep the memory of the one they lost alive. In this case Danny Adams visited me today and brought a new CD that is just out : Feelin' fine. For those who forgot: Derroll Adams was born in Portland Town, as the song states in Oregon, in 1925, and passed away in Antwerp in 2000. Derroll's instrument is the banjo and he is special in how he handled the banjo. Like many artists and musicians they kept going back and forth between Europe and the USA. Tony was a good guitar player (he also played flamenco, Paco di Lucia style). Yet for Tony his main way of expression was painting. Derroll also painted but for him the music came first. Danny now has the CD out and will find other ways of seeing to it that Derroll will not be forgotten.

Amberes

I live in a big building with 76 apartments. We have people with different languages, with different colors. With english or french we usually manage. The population is aging. My neighbor is getting "forgetful". Sometimes she rings my doorbell more than 12 times a day. Yet if she could help me she would do so. She is physically really fit, with less aches and pains than I have. He has a really set schedule: having a coffee across the street. Just to have seen other people and so she doesn't feel alone. She is kind and helpful. Still dies her hair blond. She likes to be entertained and to be surrounded by people. Both her children however live a continent away. One in South Africa and the other one in the USA. She still is adventurous taking the tram to go to a nice lively square where she can have a, or more than a drink and where is surrounded my people. It is sad that her mind her memory is going. I am training myself to be patient, to try give her some time over a coffee or tea. There are other kind folks in the building like Sofia, younger than Lucy. She is very religious, takes communion regularly. So she must be one certain to go to heaven. There is also a University professor Mia, well read and thus interesting to me. She is a voracious reader and she likes a drink like Elixir d'Anvers. She has a cleaning lady, Julia, who is there most days: she cleans,  helps with the care for Mia's son and ranges, makes the bed and does shopping, cleans the bathtub. She rides a light motorbike. Only in winter when there is ice on the streets and snow then she doesn't like it. There are Jewish people and people I can't classify on the basis of their name. Of course there are two architects members of the council of the building. There is also a variety of dogs, Tootsie the Yorkshire terrier, a big one, a small barking a lot white one and of course my very own DoggyDog. I like this variety and the view from my 12th floor over the old city. I also enjoy the morning sun.

Multi cultural aspects of life.

I live in Antwerp in an old high rise. This implies there are a lot of different nationalities, that several languages are spoken in the building, yet from high blond to black we greet each other as neighbors and some times take the time for a chat, or to admire a new baby or pet a dog. A friend of mine asked me a while ago whether I could talk for an hour explaining about multiculturalism to a a handful of girls. I am also bringing some books by Native American authors I really like.

My favorites: Sherman Alexie, Scott Momaday, MariJo Moore, Luci Tapahonso, Ramson Lomatewama, Simon J. Ortiz, James Kale McNelly.

I also need to buy some multicultural cookies. I have "baldheads" (Kletskopjes) and "mini bagels" and Rochers "rocks" made of coconut....

Now when the kids finally arrived we were two hours late and the task description was totally different. When I had finally figured out that they wanted some very different I could do it: they wanted a person's life story, that is to say mine, because they happened on my doorstep (actually my daughter's doorstep). Then I concentrated on a light introduction, encouraged them to ask questions and they seemed to enjoy themselves. So one person will be writing a portrait of the person they think I am. They were happy when they left.

Then I ran out to find a stack of books that I thought I would need and couldn't find: all my Native American  Poetry... Those books are hard to replace when you are a continent away... I retraced my steps where I had been and with a sigh of relief found them huddled together. I read a lot of poetry, find it intriguing, refreshing and beautiful.

Politics in Trump times

Having worked at the European Parliament has given me a bit of insight of how 27 states can work together... Yet what CNN, BCC and other TV-channels show me these days is beyond my comprehension. The turmoil, the confusion and the arrogance is mind boggling. It all seems haphazard, not thought through. There seems to be no trust, just in some people the blatant arrogance of power. If T. doesn't know anymore what to do he starts an other press conference. The meeting with his Israeli colleague Benjamin "Bibi" Netanyahu was to say the least weird. Trump suddenly didn't care whether a one state or two state solution. He only suggested to cool it a bit with the settlements. Palestinians have once again gotten the short stick.
Living in Antwerp, near a larger Jewish section makes me wonder how the people there feel. I see the different 'factions' in how they dress. I see how the young Jewish girls are little happy princesses and then when they grow up they seem not happy anymore. They have a bunch of children in tow, seem often sullen and down. Maybe they long to go back to Israel where the weather is better.
Yet what I really don't understand is how suddenly a person becomes Trumps best friend and how they get fired, or they make the decision to leave the ongoing madness and try and salvage their dignity...
Elizabeth Warren is my favorite together with Claire McCaskill
I root for them.

Domestic trouble in the morning leading to empowerment

In the evening I always let down the blind in the kitchen to keep the cold out. Yet when I tried to make it go up again, there seemed to be a bit of confusion in the workings. Then I noticed a tiny message on the device that the batteries were empty. I thought I just knew the shop where to get the small batteries I needed. I was pointed in the right direction by the kind old lady of the shop, because they didn't carry that. At the shop, basically DoggyDog couldn't come in. But soon enough the shopkeeper gave me the correct size batteries and for 4.99€ I was on my way home again in the very brisk frosty morning. I put the batteries in, reconnected the device to its support and for 20 seconds, or half a minute the blind was confused, made a few weird movements, but then success: the blind went up and seems to be functioning well. I could have asked for help, but didn't and in not doing that and figuring it out by myself I felt strangely empowered. Yesterday, I managed to fix my printer and was also proud and now feel empowered... May it last a long time ;-)