TRAVEL DIARY

A weblog regularly updated by Jodi Rose.

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

4:14 PM
Posted by jodi rose

Something about this place always brings me back to the body. It's very focused on the corporeal - food, sun, swimming, weather - and language. Endless conversations about food and speech.

Finished re-reading Siri Hustvedt - What I Loved - such an incredible book. Read it.

Watching storm clouds darken the Danube, and tease the overheated land with dry thunder and purple lightning but no rain for hours. Finally the rain burst out and temperature dropped ten degrees.

Thinking about the people who reflect you back to yourself in different ways, and sometimes you receive the most interesting fragments back from unexpected quarters. Siri talks about how the view of yourself is always missing from your own perspective, and it being impossible to really see yourself as others see you. That interests me in terms of trying to write your own story, how much you have to make up about yourself in the world, catching reflections here and there, a strong inner dialogue but joining the two is the tricky part.

For me, it's a matter of containment, finding a form that is porous and flexible enough yet still holds a shape or structure. I could happily spend my days watching storms, those elemental forces pulsing with life. That is what seems to be missing in my everyday world, and being out here on the edge of society doesn't automatically bring the intensity and passion one might imagine. Some days feel like a flat line drawing moving through cardboard cutouts, nothing is real and I'm not quite there either.
Still learning, and I can see more clearly now the things that don't bring complexity and depth to life, and sensing that if you only discover parts of yourself in someone else, then perhaps the richness of various relationships - friends family strangers lovers people on buses - can help unlock some of the hidden character. That or fuschia pink fingernails.

Moving on soon, up to Berlin for a few weeks. Quite excited about being back there. And finding myself in the secret parallel Berlin life that continues without me. Had an intriguing visit to Jack's Hurley factory yesterday.

Watched one of the sticks being made from start to finish, and some demonstration hurling against the walls, then a dvd from last years championships .

His brother is apparently a Hurling icon. Found it very enjoyable, both simply watching someone work with incredible precision and focus, and seeing the whole process from raw materials to smooth finished product.

All I have right now is a pile of logs, but will take that rough wood and shape it, refine and polish them into a box of beautifully shaped, smooth prose.