Flying in to the #Faroe Islands through the
drifting clouds, the friendly man next to me pointed out from our window the exact spots where a few planes like ours had fallen. The runway started at the edge of a cliff.
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Friday, May 31, 2013
Thursday, May 30, 2013
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Way to go by John von Daler
My favorite uncle grew up in Florence
but moved to the United States as a young man, when he no longer believed in God or in the Catholic faith.
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
A Blooming Shame by John von Daler
My green grocer had decided to make a bargain
out of some incompatibles: he tried to sell me edible
flowers.
Monday, May 27, 2013
War and Peace by John von Daler
An old man sat down at the next table on the terrace of the little Greek cafe. In between his sips of coffee he managed to become a part of our conversation. You know, vacation stuff, weather and food.
We complimented him on his English, but he waved off our praise.
"I'm no great student. These islands have been occupied so many times that I learned without trying. I just sit here at the cafe and soak up coffee, ouzo, wine and languages. I speak French, English, Italian, German and of course Greek. Not Albanian. You count the wars."
Later on driving up the road in our rented car we saw the bald head fringed with white as we rounded a corner by an olive grove.
We offered to give him a ride and he got into the back seat after he had handed over a magnum bottle of Retsina to us for momentary safe-keeping.
We asked what the occasion was.
"No occasion," he answered. "Just my daily walk up to the top of the mountain. When I turned over the cafe I used to own to my son-in-law, I made an agreement with him that I could sit there as much as I wanted,
that I could eat and drink as much as I wanted and that I could have a bottle of Retsina every afternoon."
"But what do you do with that huge bottle?" I asked.
He waved a flat hand towards the window as if to say, See it all!
"After lunch I walk up the hill with my bottle. I go to an olive grove at the top. I find a nice tree to lie under. Then I open my bottle and drink it while I watch the Ionian Sea. Sometimes I fall asleep."
We drove him to the top. After he got out nobody said a word.
Take my book
to the top of your mountain:
Sunday, May 26, 2013
A trip to inner space by John von Daler
Whenever I am in Berlin, I like to walk from
Potsdamer Platz past the Berlin Philharmonie
down to the Gemäldegalerie to see #Vermeer's portrait
of a girl with a pearl necklace.
Saturday, May 25, 2013
Friday, May 24, 2013
An unused metaphor by John von Daler
The cloudless sky, visible all the way around
360 degrees of horizon. A bright yellow sun
almost directly overhead. The green lawn of an oil
company in south east Tulsa.
Thursday, May 23, 2013
Geese and Ducks according to #Marx by John von Daler
I used to have a special rapport with my
mother, who was a little nuttier than your
ordinary fruitcake.
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
Interpolation by John von Daler
I knew an old man who had traveled a
lot - by foot - through Europe in the thirties.
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Rubato by John von Daler
Symmetry leaves me cold, with the
possible exception of Michelangelo's free-hand drawing of a perfect circle.
possible exception of Michelangelo's free-hand drawing of a perfect circle.
Monday, May 20, 2013
Sunday, May 19, 2013
Prelude without a fugue by John von Daler
Jogging past the hotdog vendor at the end
of Frederiksberg Allé I could smell the sausages
grilling even through the closed shutters of his cart.
of Frederiksberg Allé I could smell the sausages
grilling even through the closed shutters of his cart.
Saturday, May 18, 2013
Cyber Alexandria by John von Daler
I never met my grandmother. She was the
widow of an Austrian general who served under
Emperor Franz Josef.
Friday, May 17, 2013
Thursday, May 16, 2013
Fear of flying by John von Daler
A flock of migrating birds has landed in a field to eat, to rest, to mingle.
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
Monday, May 13, 2013
Fermata by John von Daler
Slapstick and whimsy abound in Les vacances
de Monsieur Hulot, Jacques Tati's masterwork.
de Monsieur Hulot, Jacques Tati's masterwork.
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Saturday, May 11, 2013
Burning Books by John von Daler
In Oklahoma we children used to play outside in the 100 degree (F) heat.
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
Out of sight, in of mind by John von Daler
My writing teacher, Philip Roth, asked us once to read a story by Chekhov.
Monday, May 6, 2013
The Elizabethan Rosebud by John von Daler
Shakespeare can be exhilarating for our post-Freudian audiences, because he never fills in any psychological background.
Don't judge a book by its author. by John von Daler
I really want a good book to have been written by a good person.
Mixed metaphors by John von Daler
I was eight years old, listening to the radio in my bedroom
one sunny morning.
one sunny morning.
Sunday, May 5, 2013
A Morel Tale by John von Daler
If you think the Swedish forests are full of light-haired, cavorting Vikings with fiddles,
then think again:
then think again:
Saturday, May 4, 2013
Just a thought. by John von Daler
I love to watch the traffic from our sixth floor apartment. Everybody looks so innocent at a distance.
Empty your mind. by John von Daler
First the yoga lady says empty your mind and that only takes me a few seconds.
Disbelief, when? by John von Daler
I've been told that you have to suspend your disbelief at an opera.
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