The CIA, the Arabs,…or the Jews? My mother use to say that the root of evil was The Vatican.
On the other hand, sometimes I feel we should eliminate the word ‘conspiracy’ from all dictionaries. Conspiracies never have, never do and never will happen. A conspiracy simply does not exist. Right?
(I know, I am overreacting a bit)

Correction: The book I tipped before(Food and Friends) of DH Lawrence calls Sons and Lovers, and not sons and daughters.

A lot of people from certain clans do'nt answer you , the outsider, when you ask them something. Even a normal question is a problem for them. They see the outsider as a thread and a failure. They behave as if they work for the FBI. And paranoia starts.

Threat

It must be threat.

paranoia?

it's not very paranoid.. no one disputes the connection between the bush family and the cia and the bin ladens.. some of us think that looks sorta hinky.. we're not sure how the prescott and the nazis thing might relate.. if i was a jew in berlin i'd stay paranoid.. paranoid is the only future for liberal demcracy actually

Hi Arnon, Right now I am reading the Italian version La storia delle mie calvizie that I bought lately when you were at Feltrinelli's in Milano. How strange to read a Dutch writer in Italian, funny to see the Dutch words De Vier Rozen (een Nederlandse naam in Wenen???) appear occasionally. But it's a good practice.
Today I went to the doctor in Ispra and guess what: he was reading your book Il maestro delle ceremonie. We spoke about for more than half an hour while the other patients were waiting. NIce isn't it!

Berlin

Hello Arnon,

now I`m reading you are in Berlin, but I`m afraid, not for a reading of "Tirza". What a pity!!
By the way, you where here for a theatre scool? Are you an actor too? :-)

Kristien

Welcome to Italy, do you work for the EU or in the touristic branche? I live in south Piemonte.

Bernard

What about the flemish conspiracy? I was raised with the saying: "Trouw in mijn verraad (aan België)."

Bernard

The exact saying was :Trouw in mijn ontrouw.
A saying that was very popular amongst de flemish ex oostfronters who lived with the motto: Mein treue ist mein Ehre.
The founding father, Karel Dillen, of Het Vlaams blok used "Trouw in mijn ontrouw" too, by the way.

Bernard

A second correction. The exact saying in German is: "Meine Ehre heisst treue."

Quin W

I like your trust in paranoia. Perhaps it's a time time for a political party: Democratic Party for Paranoiacs (DPP).

@Mieke
Thanks, but I know those sayings - I own a replica of an SS dagger with that specific phrase on it – quite stylish.
On events like 9/11, I do not believe in one grandiose conspiracy, but I will not neglect the possibility of smaller scale conspiracies, like the Tonkin Incident in 1964 (Vietnam). I wrote with some anger and irony.

conspiracy theory

If it's not a healthy sign for liberal democracy, the dutch liberal democracy must be terminally ill: http://www.nu.nl/algemeen/1962559/veel-nederlanders-geloven-in-complotten.html (for those of us who can read dutch).

Dear Bernard f,

and what if I would tell you that life itself is one grandiose conspiracy.
Doesn't sound exaggerated at all.

yours,

Eric

@Eric W
Life one grandiose conspiracy? The Matrix? Brave new world? The Da Vinci Code?
The lesser educated believe most in grandiose conspiracy theories because they have no idea how limited the capacities of the higher educated are.

Oh wonderful, hilarious life,
bordering on the absurd,
in wich the gods teach us humbleness.

Dear Bernard f,

No not the invisible things, just you and me and not to forget the supermarket around the corner.
The lesser educated...... oh Bernard f, you must have been a good little boy in school!

yours,

Eric

@Eric
Have you forgotten all about school?
You are such a tease…

Dear Bernard f,

What makes you think I have forgotten all about school?

warm greetings,

Eric

@Eric
If I remember correctly, ‘a good little schoolboy’ exist only in the mind of an adult who forgot all about his youth at school. An illusion, I am sorry.
It seems to me that life is a kind of a hotchpotch, and some conspiracy is only a part of it. You do not need to be a genus to realise how difficult it is to set up a conspiracy and keep it a secret, nevertheless conspiracies do occur. That is all.

http://www.arnongrunberg.com/blog/1008-veil?page=1#bottom

* Pablo?
- Yes.
* It looks like I've been here before.
- I know, it's not the same but very alike. Now stay here for a while and try to get some fresh air in your lungs.
* Ah, my curtain.... the words.... the smell....
the words... so sweet...
- Hand me the curtain Jeanette.
* ...
- Jeanette!

to Strasse's partner

I work for EU, being teacher of Dutch language at the scuola Europea di Varese; (kristienvdc@gmail.com)

Dear Bernard f,

'If I remember correctly....'
did you read this somewhere or did somebody told you these wise words?
Life is a hotchpotch, I agree, but do you think a conspiracy is always big and planned? Or could it also be small and coincidental, as an unforeseen side effect?

yours,

E.

@Eric W
Your first question: “If I remember correctly…” is only about my own memory. Thank you for calling it wise – a lot of people would call an all too good memory, annoying or simply unpractical. I can give you more than one example but that would lead us too far here.
Your second question: That was exactly what I was trying to tell you. I simply agree with your résumé

@Eric W
What is your profession, if I may ask, but you do not have to be specific. You could have been a good examiner or questioner (I have some experience – if at least you believe me…)

Dear Bernard f,

I believe you.
And you guest right: I'm a questioner.
There are so many questions to ask.
Like:
can you give one example of your too good memory?
what kind of experience do you have as a questioner?

yours,

Eric

@Eric
1)I had the experience of being professionally questioned (my father had a training as a questioner in the army’s commando troop – you should have been able to remember this, I already have mentioned it here a few time, but it is quite possible you did not believe me).
2)Do you read Dutch? I have already referred you to a blog of mine once: there you can find all the stuff you need, of course it is quite possible you do not believe one word of it.
I remember my kindergarten teacher said to my mother: “Be careful with that child, he has an elephant’s memory”.
(For real stores AND If you are really interested, you may contact me on thysmeister@gmail.com - It takes me a lot of time to translate in English)
By the way, you are quite an interesting character. OK, not as charming as for example Pablo Del Pueblo, but alla. Have you ever met Arnon Grunberg?
Yours too

@Eric
PS I do not want to annoy you, but if you want me to convince you with an example of an all too good memory, a story, (for me, quite an effort in English) I think you should do an effort too and contact me. My time for your time.

Dear Bernard f,

I believe you.

you don't need to convince me.

I believe you.

Is it a good story you want to tell me?

yours truly,
Eric

@Eric
I have collected a lot of stories – and I think they are reasonable good written too. Send me a mail about the subject (and the age) you are interested in and I will do my best for you.

Dear Eric

Your story made me grasp for air.
I’m so sorry Eric D. didn’t survive. He was such a nice fisheries biologist. He didn’t deserve to be put into fish food himself.
You are sure you killed all? What about Silvio? Are you safe at the moment?

Thursdaynight, I looked at Eric D.’s shoes for hours, drunk all the spirit that was left in the house, after which I decided to open the bathroom door, trembling I must say.

I expected a horrible sight, but the room was very clean, not a grain of sand. It looked somehow smaller though and one side was retiled. The glass cabin around the shower was removed and replaced by a blue shower curtain with lots of colorful fish, I recognized from somewhere, but where… Why would anyone call this ‘Inferno’?

When I took a shower and the lukewarm water touched the curtain, pages of a book turned up. Very small printed, but still readable. It turned out to be the Ali-one. So I started reading, keeping the curtain wet. It took me hours and hours. With the water touching the curtain a wonderful smell came from it, truly enticing. It made me think of Leporello, cowboys, some cavalier and Lady Camelot. Then I must have blacked out. I’m happy to be at Flu. I’m happy I still have the curtain.

Tell me, are you planning ‘to make a visit’?

thick layered clouds,
*J.

@Eric Wander
I am sorry. As I was aswering your mail and adding a story, by accident I pushed the ‘delete’ button of my Gmail. I lost your message and your mail address too.
Please try again

@Eric
I could retrieve your message; for some reason it got stuck in the spam box

Dear Bernard f,

I received your story.
Thank you for sending it .

yours,

Eric

Dear Jeanette,

Silvio, yes...... Silvio, Papi, can't be killed.
Unfortunately.
He hunted me through nine invisible cities.
I've been in Zirma, Aldema, Anastasia, Octavia, Hypatia, Armilla, Zobeide, Tecla and finally Leonia.
Listen what they say about Zobeida:

"They tell this tale of its foundation: men of various nations had an identical dream. They saw a women running at night through an unknown city; she was seen from behind, with long hair, and she was naked. They dreamed of pursuing her. As they twisted and turned, each of them lost her."

Papi will never give up, I'm sure about that.
He will keep searching for me until he can look me in the eyes, smile and before giving me the final blow say that 'everything will be fine'. I've heard that Papi's way is an extremely painful way.

I found another copy of the book!
It's ok, I enjoyed reading it.
If I ever need a lawyer, I know where to get one!
I have hidden it in one of the cities I've been.
If I die it will be lost forever.

Well no need to tell you that 'a visit' wasn't really posible.
Did the thick layered clouds brighten up a bit?

Yours, Eric.

PS. I need to send you something is that ok?

*Eric....
-Pablo, how did you find me?
*Shut up. You forgot the most important thing about Zobeide.
-Which is?
*After the dream they set out in search of that city; they never found it, but they found one another; they decided to build a city like the one in the dream.
-ah, yes. Thank you Pablo. Do you know if J....
*Shut up, Eric, don't anoy me......
-
*

Dearest Eric

Very glad to hear from you!

For some weeks you had me thinking you were lost on some horizon.
With Papi breathing in your neck that could easily be the case. How powerful and aggressive he might be, he has one Achilles’ heel: women…it’s the only way you can get at him.

It’s so odd you were hunted in exactly the same place that founded the city of the overturned boat. Did you happen to see it? There is a ‘forgotten’ tale of a precious Pearl that drifted along the salty stream because of it. I know it’s time to visit the city to start reconstructing the story before all traces are gone, but I’m afraid I’ll commit some crime during the search for facts and words.

As to the dreams of those men: they only lost the girl in their dreams; she will be around in another realm, still running, tossing and turning won’t do to get rid of her there.

So you hid the book in the city. Can Silvio get a hold on it? At least it won’t get lost, as you plan to live forever. And there’s always the showercurtain…Pablo will never find it. I made sure of that.

Too bad we missed eachother by less than 50 miles some weeks ago. Incredible actually. The thick layered clouds stay in their place, they are built so dense no storm can blow them away. I like them as much as I like trees and music.

You sure can send whatever you need to, you know it’s most welcome.
I’m expecting
something from France that you would definitely want to see. When it arrives I’ll let you know; it could take some weeks. And there is some Cook-powder arriving soon. If you are interested I’ll send you a fair share. Tomorrow I’ll leave for Nerja for a short week of work. Are you traveling East or West?

TGC,C.!

Yours, Jeanette

Dear J.

Thanks for your advise on Papi.
But since I'm not a women, what can I do??Can you mean something in this?The city of the overturned boat.....never heard of it and what about this 'forgotten tale'?I tell you later about Pablo, the book and Silvio's chance to get his hands on it.Did you miss me on purpose (less than 50 miles) some weeks ago?
I'm not traveling at the moment, I heardly breath.....
Yours,E.

Estimado E.

I rummaged through some old Italian newspapers yesterday evening and found out I have a personal score to settle with Silvio P. So yes, I’m in. Any cunning plan to strike back will do. I know a few persons in the place where there is no world outside the walls. I’ll make a call when I get back. Can Pablo be part of Silvio’s incrowd? What key does he hold?

You never asked about the name of the city, so you couldn’t have known. The poetic blanket and hot tea were more important. The city is damned, always has been. I’ll tell you about the ‘forgotten tale’ another time, maybe soon. How did you escape?

Did I miss you on purpose? Au contraire, mon ami, au contraire.
After a lot of caffeine and a proper speeding ticket, I got lost. When I came close, my route-66 -lady advised me to turn back repeatedly, but her screen directed me to drive on through, which I did, till I arrived in an uncoded area. Turning around in circles, time simply ran out.

I got out of the maze by giving a hike to a young lad that needed a ride to the local train station. His appearance was striking. He wore old clothes under an exquisite leather jacket and his dentist must have made a fortune on him. He was well-read and had an absolute gift of telling stories. I would have driven him to any other station, just to hear him speak about his travels and to forget what I had just missed out on … Btw: were you there in time? Were you angry?

My friends will take me out to the Balcony of Europe now.
Take care (what’s that with your breath?).

Cordialmente, J.

Dear J.

Pablo doesn't belong to any incrowd.
Pablo belongs to himself.
I'm sure he could solve my Silvio problem, if he wanted too.
But then again he could also solve Silvio's problem, if he wanted too.
Pablo's ways are unpredictable......
(You shouldn't make yourself illusions about hiding something for Pablo:
1. You shouldn't want that (maybe he's not a friend, but why would you make him an enemy?)
2. It's impossible)

When God spoke: "There be light"!
To whom was he speaking?
Or did he speak regularly to himself?
Or was it the first time he spoke?

I didn't escape, I'm still hiding, holding my breath.
The book is safe.
I don't think Silvio will find it, but if; I have an extra surprise for him.

If I was there in time? You mean at the station of Suffering?
If I was angry? What makes you ask this question?

E.

......the description of Anastasia awakens desires one at a time only to force you to stifle them, when you are in the heart of Anastasia one morning your desires waken all at once and surround you. The city appears to you as a whole where no desire is lost and of which you are a part, and since it enjoys everything you do not enjoy, you can do nothing but inhabit this desire and be content. Such is the power, sometimes called malignant, sometimes benign, that Anastasia, the treacherous city, possesses; if for eight hours a day you work as a cutter of agate, onyx, chrysoprase, your labor which gives form to desire takes from desire its form, and you believe you are enjoying Anastasia wholly when you are only its slave.

Dear E.

I had a restless night.
I don’t know if it was because of the wine, the Lorca’s,
or the cold that came from the walls of the cave sleeping rooms.
I went to the roof terrace to warm up and my thoughts started shifting very fast:

I didn’t miss out on you, did I?!
your clever ways…
You are Poe’s Purloined Letter.
At least I hope you enjoyed the ride.
Forget my other question, you rascal.

Silvio wants your book because of the formula, doesn’t he.
He won’t rest before he finds it and his frustration grows every day.
It will turn on you as the book stays safe. There’s no time to lose.
I called my acquaintances in V. this morning.
They told me they would visit Silvio’s astrologer,
as every good catholic in the region attends one at least twice a month.

You think one can’t hide anything from Pablo? Well, you’re wrong.
I figured out Pablo helps each and every one of us to take a door,
but never takes one himself. So it’s easy to hide something from him.
Pablo isn’t my friend, nor my enemy.
Sometimes I confuse him with fate.

About God words: there was no one present at the original Creation, so I can’t answer your question. There’s a story of the creation of the world in 22 letters of the Aleph-Bet. The world began from the unity of one, Aleph, the silent letter. Bet, which stands for number two, introduces the duality, it’s the first letter to appear in the Creation story. Some say we inherited the ability and desire to create, like we wish to take part in the on-going Creation. You believe in that? Besides hiding, do you create at the moment?

Nice P.S. Are you a slave of Anastasia?
Look for Camus’ short Myth of Sisyphus:
you’ll never be a slave again!

your J.

Los laberintos que crea el tiempo se desvanecen

Dear J,

I'm puzzled: did you miss me (by less than 50 miles some weeks ago) or didn't you?

Please keep me informed about Silvio; I start breathing , when his will stop.

Maybe Pablo never takes a door, but he has the power to let anyone take any door.
I'm afraid he already has it (if he wants it).

About this creation-theory......I don't know; there are a lot of reasons why somebody wants to create.
To make other people jealous........ to create a space that is safe........

Prima et infima stadium unum continebat, est 625. pedes orbiculatim.

Yours,

E.

Dear E.

I missed you (m on standby for a flight on saturday...

Dear E.

(reprise)

I missed you (m on standby for a flight on saturday...

Dear E.

(last try)

I missed you (-50 miles), 110 percent sure:
For Pablo appeared yesterday dressed as the hiker for the S.station

It’s too early for you to to meet, he said, so I gave you an illusion

Well, where to go from here?
Eric, the first option to try to eliminate Silvio came in:
Risqué, but it’s an option. Here’s the first step:
Either you or I have to get to the city of V. within seven days

…

Six stadium north of the Arena lies the steep Via San Zeno in Monte
Close the exit wall is a house with a high medieval garden
Call for nonna Alba & mention the title of the first book you sent me
She will direct you to the person you need

! don’t forget to bring the formula with you!

yours, J.

To create a space that is safe, … yes, but out of jealousy??
Let me say I’m curious about your explanation.
Btw, why did you refer to God as a male?

Dear Jeanette P.,

Pablo gave you an illusion of.....me.....?
How did I look?
Or did he mold it to your desires?
You enjoyed the illusion?
It's probably better then the real thing.

I go to V. as soon as possible and follow your advise.
Thanks for all the effort you made so far.

Read carefully: not 'out of jealousy' but 'to make other people jealous'.

The 4th sentence from the Genesis says:
God saw that the light was good, and He separated the light from the darkness.

Why would you see God as something else?

Are you fine?

yours,

Eric W.

Dear Eric

Pablo gave me the illusion that it was you that I drove to the station some weeks ago. From the early morning of 30/6/09 I thought you were the hitchhiker.
How did you look? ‘Ravisant!’ see the description from 29/6/09. Anything close?

It was a rather nice illusion, enjoyable for sure, first of all because it was such a strange way to meet... I happen to think reality is crazier/more interesting than any illusion. Do you agree?

Did Pablo mold a man to my desires? Well, he must have overheard Mia talking to Emmi about “ein klassisches Frauenschiksal”. He took that information to heart when he molded you then (luckily).

I try not to fill the black hole that you are with fantasies (like our host’s R. Mehlman once suggested)? I think I only have questions: how does your voice sound, does the way you move resemble the rythm of your words? I’m curious what you like for lunch and if you ever brew alcohol yourself. Silly things we never discuss. You have a clear picture of me?? (make me laugh!)

To create to make people jealous: do you have some examples?

If God created duality, God couldn’t be a man, because then duality (like male/female) was already created before God (and God wouldn’t be the creator of that). But that’s just logic.

In bocca ‘lupo at V.! Be carefull.

Ciao, J.

* Jeanette
-Yes
* I burnt the curtain
-Why, Pablo, why.....?
* To teach you ........
-
*
-To teach me what?
*
-
*
-
* Goodbye Jeanette.

Dearest J,

I'm sorry to hear about the curtain.
Don't worry I still have the book.
If we ever meet I'll bring it.

I'm happy the illusion was rather nice, even enjoyable
and I agree: reality is more crazier
but what exactly the borderline between reality and an illusion is....
if there is any.....

Your other questions have to wait, I'll think about them for sure.
Your 'if this then that' logic doesn't seem solid to me.
If I were God..........

yours,

E.

Caro E.

Thanks for your concern about the curtain,
Well what can I say, not only Pablo can create illusions,
if he is happy to think he burnt it, I'm hapy too...very happy indeed!

I would love to see the book you hold one day.
Can I bring Daniel twentyfive with me then, as a companion?

Where the line between reality and an illusion lies
is a good question. Sometimes I think there is no straight line, just some mingling going on every here and there,
maybe the border is more like a lot of dots than a straight line.

Shoot holes in my 'if this then that' logic if you want.
If you were God..........
what would you do/be?
This morning I thought the closest to Divinity I would get this evening was Frankfurt Airport...

a presto,
J.

P.S. Can you acces your private mail next week to look at some newspaper clippings?

* Pablo?
- Jeanette
* Pablo?
- Jeanette, 'maybe the border is more like a lot of dots than a straight line'?
* well....
- Jeanette, and then hinting that there is somebody else who can create illusions......in *My Theatre*
* I just.....
- sure, don't say it, I already know it.
*
- Goodbye J.P.
* Goodbye Pablo
-

Dear J.

If I were God
I would weep......

I 'm on my way to V.
I arrive at midnight.
There's a women with short blond hair
in her mid-forties traveling the same route as I am.
She wears black clothes, smokes a cigarette every 41 minutes.
Although she doesn't pay any attention to me I have the feeling she's follows me, or maybe I should say accompanies me.
As if she knows where I am (we are )going to.
Can't tell on which side she's on.
She doesn't look dangerous.

It's difficult to describe ones own voice;
it's a combination of somebody who never brew alcohol himself and who likes ./ for lunch.
The rhythm of my words and the way I move are one.

I have a very clear picture of you:
you are this summer-breeze that can come from all sides;
very often from the direction you think it should come
but once in a while you choose deliberately the opposite.
Your skin is dark, as is your hair.
Your eyes glow in the dark, during the day you cover them with black sunglasses.
Your legs are long and elegant, even if they are a bit hairy.
You like to wear high-heels.
You move like a leopard.
Running up a hill doesn't cost you any effort.
You have strong teeth.
You want men and women to look at you.
Why didn't you go to Frankfurt Airport...?

Do bring Daniel 25, but leave his dog at home.
I don't like dogs.

At the moment Pablo closed the door that gives me acces to my mail.
I'm not allowed to tell why........

are you going to V.?

E.

- Jeanette…
* Mhmmhm mhmm…
- Jeanette, …. stop that song!
* Why Pablo, you don’t like it?
- Well..
* Well what Pablo?
- You can’t sing.
* Yep Pablo, we can’t all come from Riga, I know,
my genes just travelled a bit further, that all.
- The lyrics, Jeanette.
* They are quite innocent Pablo.
- Jeanette!!
* 99 curtains of fish on the wall
99 curtains of fish
take one of
burn it all
98 curtains of fish on the wall
98 curtains of fish
- …..
*Night Pablo.
… take one of
burn it all…

Dear E.

You would weep?! Why?
For the beautiful mess people make?
And how many Kleenex tissues will do?

The smoking Black Venus…
Did you have a look at the title of the book she is reading?
Let her stay around, don’t make her go your opposite way.
Trust me. (Will you try to persuade her to reduce her addiction to 46?)

Eric, how can I know how a voice sounds that feeds itself on spaghetti and pees for lunch? Are you on some diet? At least I know how you move now, thanks. Very different day by day...
As for my description: you made me smile all evening. Somehow I feel you think of me as a black hairy version of Heino. (Do you like Heino?) High heels: that’s a right guess! They don’t go with hairy legs though, I have to disappoint you, sorry. An unpredictable summer breeze … maybe. Did you ever see Jan Wolkers commenting on himself in a short b/w movie where he compares himself with a leopard while walking to his bike in a park?....well, euh thanks...

I had a stopover on Frankfurt and luckily a woman that couldn’t find her ticket gave her place to me. Because of her I could witness that evening that In the beginning there was ‘red and black’. I can’t leave this week, next week I’m free as a bird. I’ll consider V. ok?

ys J.

say hi to nonna Alba for me, and try her lemon tuna if you have time

Dear J,

Heino?
It's not so much that you are black, but dark.
And you don't smoke.
(You really need to spend more time on what I write!
It's quite annoying to correct you for the second time within 4 days.)
In my world you can't shave your long, elegant, hairy legs, that's why.

I don't know the b/w movie.
Did you ever caresed a snow-leopard?

This afternoon I go to nonna Alba and I heard she's preparing a lemon tuna for me!
To skip the ./ for one time is ok.
I'm curious to whom she will direct me and what happens next.
I keep you informed and sent nonna A. your greeting.
Coming thursday I'm gone so we can't meet here.

Unfortunately the blond women dissappeard, I didn't pay any attention to her book (how did you know she was reading?).
Obviously she was just another traveler and I'm a bit paranoia.

yours,
E.

PS. Tonight before midnight I dreamed of Pablo.
He looked a bit confused (never saw him like that!).
He spoke, but instead of words, the finest music left his mouth.
Never heard something like this before: silver-thin and very transparent.
I understood that the door to my mail is open again!
I check the clippings a.s.a.p.

Dearest E.

You don’t know Heino? Maybe you want to keep it that way, I’m almost sure, if not: have a look (and no, it’s NOT my taste of music):
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yvPhW387LdE

I didn’t confuse the two ladies you mentioned:
*) the (ash?)blond in black clothes that I named Black Venus because of her black clothes, not because of the color of her skin.
**) the black Heino (that I never referred to as a smoker, did I?):
black as in black hair, in contrast to Heino’s white hair (but with the sunglasses and that leopard walk…)
BTW, I thought you like to correct people, or does it only apply to writers?

I wonder why you can’t shave hairy legs in your world. Do you shave your beard?
As a very young child I suffered a severe trauma looking at large forests of black hair hanging from the armpits of a female guest at my parents house. I decided never to grow up if that was in store for me too.

I can’t remember caressing a snow leopard. Did you or are you planning to? The most exotic creature I caressed was a South Pacific sea cucumber. That got into a sticky business when it defended itself. Watch for a big snail on your way tomorrow!

Maybe now you are enjoying your tuna. I hope nonna A. is of good help. As V. is not the place to meet something else will come up. The traveler will cross your path again. Very very very rarely I can ‘see’ things that happen miles away from me, like some one reading a book or typing. It’s of no use though, it’s mere curiosity I wanted to check.

Enjoy the city of V. I hope you find what you need (and more).

J.ours

I wished I could hear Pablo in the way you did…sounds marvelous, lucky you!

Dearest J.

I need to apologize really
and don't say I didn't had to do it.....
It must be the air in V. that always smells a bit like digestion
or the tension of the last weeks
I don't know

Not bad: Ja, ja die Katja, die hat ja........ Is he blind?
and yes she was ash-blond..... do you know more about her?

Nonna A. is a mysterious women.
Didn't talk at all, just made gestures I didn't understand and gave me the best tuna I ever had!!
Before she opened the backdoor, which was the sign for me to leave she handed me two small packages + a watch that doesn't work + a postcard of the Chiesa del Santissimo Redentore.
The packages have the size of a cigarette box.
One is deep-purple and the other one has the color of a Chrysoprase.
I know what to do tomorrow.......

I'm curious to hear about your ability to see things.
Did you know your clippings were stolen from my mailbox?
Now I understand why P. opened the door again.
I still didn't send you the package, shall I post it tomorrow?

Yours E.

Dearest E.

Am in a hurry, will try to get back to you today, just a short note:

your emailaddress was redirected to the Theatre... I just posted again.

if you want to send something today, wait for the snail and look for a code when you flip it over... if you can't find out where the code stands for you can use the old address tomorrow...

yours, J*

Dear E.

Apologies accepted, the tension must be wearing you out.
I think you’re on to something good, so try to keep concentrated a few more days if you can.

You found Heino’s girlfriend interesting?
Well, besides feeling her he saw her too.
A lot of people assume he is an albino,
but he has blue eyes and a disease that makes him protect his
eyes against bright lights. He runs a pub nowadays,
not out of financial need I heard.

The woman is quite familiar to me, yes (she had fire in her hair).
My friends from V. didn’t think it is wise for you to travel alone in this situation. On Thursday’s travel you could be accompanied by a girl called Johnny or Florence.

Nonna A. has been good to you then.
She tried to learn me how to cook Italian long long time ago.
The tuna-dish has a secret ingredient, she never discloses.
You’ll never taste it like that elsewhere.
Her gifts make me very curious…
The colors remind me of something, but what...?

To get to or from the Chiesa avoid getting into a boat of a guy
nicknamed ‘Salvatore’, he’s not worthy of his nickname, on the contrary. That’s all I can add for now. The rest is up to you.
You feel confident?

I’ll tell you a stunning story about seeing thing another time.
I don’t want our director to change my treatment.
his humor is one of the best medicines I encountered, I must say.

Good luck! You know where to find me...

Yours, J.

J.P.

As the broken watch pointed at 10.10,
I was at the Chiesa del Santissimo Redentore10.10 sharp.
The two packages in my pocket.
Nobody was there, it was all quiet .
There was some heavy incence burning.
I sat down and before I knew it I past out and started to dream:

from everywhere small children were coming with little knives and started to cut small shreds of flesh of my body.
It didn't hurt and didn't bleed.
The cut me until everything was gone except the two packages which started to glow intensely.
An old woman, who I recognised as the ash-blond but in a latter stage of her life picked up the boxes and started to unpack them.
One caused smoke on the water, the other fire in the sky.
In the middle of this scenery Silvio appeared.
He hit the old women with a black stick on which end it had a silver head of a hyena.
The women laughed.
He jumped upon her and it looked as if he started to kiss her passionately, but then I saw he tried to strangle her.
While strangling her, he kissed her passionatlely.
She didn't resist, she just looked at him with an intensive look.
The more Papi Silvio is closing his grip on her neck, the more smoke from the water gets into his mouth.
The more fierce he kissed her, more and more fire from the sky started to burn him.
At a certain moment it looked as if he wanted to stop.
But he couldn't.
The smoke and fire covered him completely.
I couldn't see anything anymore.
When the air cleared I looked into the eyes of the ash-blond women.
She was suddenly younger than she was when I saw her while traveling.
She gave me back the watch which pointed 12.17, lit a cigarette and was carried away by the small children.
I woke up.
Everything was as quiet as it was before.
I had the watch in my hand, it was running: 12.19.10
The packages were gone.
On the floor was Salvatore, the boat man.
Cut to pieces...........

E.
12.24.07

Dearest E.

Che sogno straordinario!
What an apotheosis.
So great!
How did the ash blond look
while walking out of the Redentore?
With Salvatore gone
the Pearl search will be more difficult,
but then again, he can’t claim fame
for finding a treasure.
You’re ok, right?
Is the book still in its place?

Yesterday evening I kept asking myself where I saw the
deep-purple/chrysoprase combination before.
Then I remembered: Eric D.’s shoelaces.

I took his R. Glover shoes out of the closet
and looked at the vibrant cords.
Pouring out some sand and long grass, I tried them on.
They were very comfortable, but this afternoon I noticed a rash
or rather flexible extra tissue between my toes.
A shower kept the itching away for an hour,
but then it got worse, so I took another.
I noticed the shower tiles were getting loose
and I managed to scrape one off
and a second :
it looks like there is a ‘veduta’ of some kind behind the tiles…

If the doorbell hadn’t rung for Daniel25,
I might have had a better look by now.
You are sure you don’t like dogs?
This happy fellow is such a cutie pie:
red and ivory, with glowing black eyes,
almost swanlike,
a lot of fire in it…

Ciao caro,
take care,
rest a while.
yours,
J.

J.

The ash-blond had a smile on her face that was both happy and tense.
Her eyes shot fire, full of hatred; but maybe I was still to drowsy to see it clear.
The point is that Papi is still out there.
Sometimes I think I hear him breath.
Something in the back of my head tells me that this trip was not to get Silvio, but Salvatore instead.

Well anyway, when I left V. I had an appointment with C. and we spend a wonderful inspiring evening near the city of U.
She took me afterwards to Rome where I met this strange man by the name of Anton Beck jr.
He lives in hotels, drives in limo's with driver and eats in expensive restaurants.
It seems that in every pocket of his trowser or jacket he has loads of money.
He told me that he is just copying his father.
When I asked him who his father was, he looked away pretending he didn't hear me.
Tomorrow he wants to show me some obelisks with special signs on them.
C. will take the train in a few minutes and I promised to bring her to the station.

E.

E-dear

The ash blond and fire is a combination I can relate to,
the ash blond and hatred combo is not known to me.
‘Salvatore’ is but a tiny fish. An ignorant one, but tiny.
You move to Rome when Papi is still around?!
Are you tired of life? Is Beck jr. taking you to obelisks to
look for one yourself? Is he a shy person by the way?

So nice you met C. again! How is she doing?
Still in the same project? Could I be the fly on your wall…
Hope to meet her one day. I invited M. for a small pilgrimage

Your package arrived in good condition.
Since you left out any instruction this time,
I wasn’t sure what to do with it.
I have to confess something….
yesterday evening I opened the sealed content,
it looked too tempting…so euh…
I tried one serving…
and finished all 19 by 16 this afternoon, I’m afraid.
It was just excellent, it felt like floating on waves.
Sorry!! Can I make it up to you?

Jeanne

Dear J.P.

You ask me if I'm tired of life.......I must admit, sometimes I am, but don't worry; I'm too much a coward to commit suicide.There are still some questions that need to be whom.You ask if the description of the illusion Pablo gave comes close to my appearance.I'm not sure, it does and it doesn't.It's as if you saw me according to your own desires.Did the illusion change during your ride?You write: "Some say we inherited the ability and desire to create, like we wish to take part in the on-going Creation. You believe in that? "Before I can answer: Inherited from whom?Could you elaborate on 'the on-going Creation'?On creation and jealousy: I can't give you a concrete example (i.e. a quote of artist x stating he creates a certain work to make artist y jealous). But the idea of making a colleague jealous is a good motor for inspiration. A way of taking revenge.Then you asked me if I'm a slave of Anastasia.I am, but only when I want too.I have to tell you more about this Anton Beck jr. (later)He is the most fascinating person I met for years.He's not shy at all.I'm happy you enjoyed the package.Make it up to me?For what reason?What do you have in mind?Your E.

Dear E.

Thank God you’re a coward in some respect!
Life is a rotating wheel. Whenever one get’s at the bottom
be sure the wheel is continuously moving, taking one up again
(but then again: down too).
Some wheels rotate faster than others.
Encountering Beck jr. sounds promising…

About desires and illusions:
somehow I have to see a person’s face before any desire decides to raise it’s head.
The structure of the face and body language of the hitchhiker
were very ‘foreign’ to me but at the same time very very familiar,
like I’ve known him for years. Did he change during the ride?
Not in my perception, but I was minding the road.
If he raised any desire I must have locked it up in my Gefühls-schranken. Although his crystal voice escapes from it, all the time!
What part of the illusion comes close to you, if I may ask? I’m curious.
For about a week Pablo sends me an image of an eagle and a snow leopard at some stone in R., just every morning, before waking up.

Yes, I believe in an on-going Creation,
even when one doesn’t always realize
he/she is busy taking part in that.
It provides massive energy.
If Creation was already fixed, man wouldn’t be free.
Inheriting it from God or the first amoeba around doesn’t matter, really.
Jealousy is a poison that will always flow back. Maybe the artist is able to create something exquisite in that way, but it’s likely it has it’s prize (a lot of artists wouldn’t mind paying perhaps).

Glad you’re not falling over me plundering the package. I don’t know what got into me. I felt I had to make up to you severely for doing so. Since you’re happy with it, I can give my darkest imagination a rest.

Enjoy!
love J.

If man is five
Then the devil is six
And God is seven

- Jeanette…
* Yes, Pablo?
- Did you see what you had to see by now?
* Are you referring to the image every dawn?
- Yes…
* Well, I understand I’m looking at a stone erected in honor of
the thousand suns of Ra.
- And…
* And there is an eagle around, circling ever higher,
in the end he sits at the top.
- Are you sure it’s an eagle?
* It’s nose is so elegantly hooked…
- As of so many birds.
* … and it’s the only bird that can look straight into the sun
- True, and…
* When he does, one of his eyelids falls down.
- Correct, and…
* And there’s something sweet dripping alongside the stone.
- Did you see what he is carrying in his claws?
* I tried to see, but the sun reflects too bright in whatever it is.
- Wear your sunglasses!
* You mean at night??
- … !
* Alright, alright…

Dear J.

It doesn't cost anything to believe or not to believe in an on-going creation.
I would say that if it comes from God or the first amoeba is exactly the point where it matters, where it becomes interesting....
In this respect we don't share the same opinion Jeanette.

What is your darkest imagination?

I'm travelling with Beck Jr. at the moment and the things he is showing me are brillant.
We made an obelisk tour, looking at Hieroglyph.
We went into the Vesuvius and did some measurements.
We build a sunflowerclock, we listen to music, we talk, we are just silent, looking at the stars, we dream about the tower of Babel, we discuss Semiramis, Herodes........the seven waves, Tarantino, colors, love, sex, love, pornography, Ice age, Armstrong, squash, love..........

yours,

E.

dEar

Seems you are following in the footsteps of Goethe and Byron, having a Grand Tour.
Taking your time to experience culture, getting absorbed by nature, talking about matters of the heart in good company... bloody marvelous.

Does it take long to get into the Vesuvius? What did you two measure? And how does one make a sunflower clock? Sounds like fun. In what way did you and Beck jr. meet by the way? Does he have a striking appearance? What’s his most interesting view on love?
Or yours?

I’ve cut my summer in periods of weeks, traveling with/to a friend one week, taking care of business the other. I thought it would make me restless, but somehow it fits like a glove. It makes me happy, among other things.

What do you mean with “it doesn’t cost anything”?
In your opinion, why would it matter for the desire to create to come from God or from an amoeba?

My darkest imagination,
Pfff…
well, as dark
wie das Meer im Blutstrahl des Mondes

y. J.

Dearest Jeanette P.

On-going creation sounds to me as a thought that comes to one mind while drinking a glass of cooled rose on a warm sunday-afternoon. The thought is disrupted by another thought: 'let's have another glass......'
'The desire to create', I'm not sure what this is in the light of this 'on-going creation'.........

It would really be worth something if I could hear your darkest imagination.
Do you have a price?

A sunflower-clock is made in the following manner:
1) have a sunflower with root placed on a rond piece of cork in a large round basin with water. On the cork 'A, B and C are written'.
2) the sunflower moves itself automatically towards the sun, so the cork will turn
3) Around the crown of the flower you place an iron ring with the appropriate numbers. A pointer through its center indicated the time on the inner side of a suspended ring.

It's good to hear different things are making you happy, even put a smile on your face!
The coming week, days I might be around.
Maybe we could exchange........

yours,

Eric W.

my dearest E.

Good morning to you.

Another glass of cooled rose on a warm Sunday afternoon is recreation, not creation, but I see one could easily be preferred above the other.

Do I have a price?
Sure I have, as everyone does.
It’s more interesting to know what you can afford.
Will you let me know?
And will show me the working of that lovely clock?

So, you’ll be traveling up north soon? Great!
I’m on a tight schedule.
It’s a long story (tell you about it another time),
but I accepted an invite from Papi
to meet on any neutral ground of my choice.
Since I’ll have to collect a new Ericsson at headquarters, before I go trekking with sIl in a country neighboring that of a well known back-spitter, I’ll meet him on the middle of a large Northern bridge next Friday.
I’ll give you my new number: 06 - 31.07.12.08,
the other number will function a few more weeks.
If you can, contact me as soon as you are getting closer than let’s say 400 miles.

Save journey.

yours J.

Dear J.

"Another glass of cooled rose on a warm Sunday afternoon is recreation, not creation, but I see one could easily be preferred above the other."

Are you kidding me?

yours,

E.

dEar

Kidding you? Not to my knowledge.
Do you have a morning temper?

y. J.

you dodge the question.
A morning-temper at 12:56?
You know it's not about creation or recreation, but on your thought about this 'on-going creation'.

I heard Emmi and Leo are together.
Isn't that sweet?
Will it last you think?

An invite of Papi........
will you watch out!!!
Beck Jr. has met him several times,
received generous gifts from him.
Beck told me that he can transform himself into a snake!

How is Daniel 25 doing?

best wishes,

Er ic

Dear E.W.

I’m ‘springerig’ sometimes, but I’m no fan of dodgers,
you might know that. Maybe we are at cross-purposes?
Could you rephrase the question?

Emmi and Leo a couple: wie süss! I thought her pretty long relation with Leo’s System Manager would last. She’s some persevering and straightforward lady, isn’t she. You think he’s man enough to handle her? It could work, I think, but then Leo might have to throw out her pc first. And his own. Do you think they will last?

Well, Papi …. I’m not afraid to meet him.
I’ll take two escorts with me, just in case…
Daniel25 helped me to excavate the ‘veduta’ in my bathroom.
His dog kept barking and barking at it. He wouldn’t calm down.
It looked like a Canaletto, so I brought it to Christies to have it checked.
The expert told me it was authentic, but somebody ruined it:
the microscope revealed a tiny figure that didn’t belong there:
dressed up like Napoleon, it was Silvio, waving from a bridge.
Same night I was called by an assistant of Papi, and the meeting was arranged.
Does Beck jr. have some proper advice? And what gifts were presented to him? Did he accept them?

Daniel25 is pretty wrapped up for a comedian.
Won’t ask for anything but salt but sniffing at the Papa Song cookies I took home. His dog made friends with two black Labradors living next door. Their owner is willing to dog-sit, so I think of taking Daniel25 out soon. See if I can interest him for something else than staring at his double I-pod.

Tonight I will celebrate a mind-blowing compliment I got on my last case and go salsa-dancing! Ever been to the Caribbean?

Te otro biaha, J.

P.S.

Eric, I figured out the right price for my darkest imagination.
You can easily afford it and it would be of the greatest value for me!

Jeanette

Dearest,

we were talking about your deep philosophical thoughts on creation, of which I replied that:
"On-going creation sounds to me as a thought that comes to one mind while drinking a glass of cooled rose on a warm sunday-afternoon. The thought is disrupted by another thought: 'let's have another glass......' "
Before this I wrote that the thought doesn't cost anything, i.e. it's priceless, like shouting along with U2 to make this world a fairer [??] place and after the concert go home in your Hyundai or BMW and sleep in your comfortable bed in your comfortable house.
Either you value your own thought, which I asume and hope, and you try to defend it with your life.....
or
You don't value your own thought, you just said it like: "Hon, I'm out...it might be late, don't stay up for me!" (and you were kidding me)
After that: "'The desire to create', I'm not sure what this is in the light of this 'on-going creation'........."
So what does it mean?

Dear J., don't confuse my quest for understanding you with anything that even comes close to a 'morning temper'.

Emmi straightforward, yes she is, but mostly for her own benefits.
As long as she can tell Leo what to do and what not to do, she's a real mother......
What she forgets is that language is limited and certain things, especially things that doesn't involve clear action of herself, can't be solved with one mouse click.
But she's a fine lady, challeging , sharp and good-looking; I would say that Leo is exactly enough man for her (also not to much of a man).

Beck Jr. got a lot of money from Papi, cash money.
In envelops, briefcases, pizzaboxes and paper bags.
Papi will get specific books in return.
The question is when Beck will finish it, he's working already quite some time on the project, like his father did.
It is said that Kings are willing to pay 50.000 per book....
I'm happy you have two escorts with you, can they become invisible?
Last time I told you that Beck told me about Silvio's ability to become a snake.
Now I'm doubting if he didn't say that he has a snake.
I'll ask him the next time I see him.

I pay the right price, even without knowing what it is.......

yours,

E.W.

- Jeanette.
* Pablo, you here, at this hour? You await me in other people’s houses too now?
- I’m here to help you.
* …?
- You forgot to pack something.
* I did?
- What did you see till now J.?
* You mean before dawn?
- Yes…
* Well, it’s confusing.
- Speak up Jeanette!
* The Eagle is holding a shiny drinking device in one claw, it’s half on its side and filled with a dense golden fluid, it seems to refill itself automatically.
- Did you see the outside of the cup?
* I did. What’s engraved on it doesn’t make any sense: L = M.
- You have to realize where you’re standing.
* I know Pablo, I know, but translated to 50 = 1.000 doesn’t help!
- You’re close J., very close, but you have to focus, think sharper.
* Pablo, I’m incredibly tired, I hardly sleep 4 hours a night.
- I brought you your sunglasses ... sweet dreams Jeanette…
* …
- 50 = 1.000, it’s easy.
* Did you just caress my hair Pablo?
- You’re dreaming Jeanette, just dreaming.
* ...snore...

dearE

Now let’s see if I understand you now. Are you trying to say that you wonder if my remarks on ‘on-going creation’ are ‘gewauwel’, ‘borrelpraat’ ‘zonder consequentie’, in which I don’t take myself or you seriously?

You ask if I would defend my thought with my life. To me, taking a thought seriously doesn’t imply I have to defend it with my life. On the contrary. A thought is a ‘point of view’. Every point of view has its horizon. Defending a point of view with your life is not allowing yourself to check if your point of view is still valid, if there isn’t another (perhaps better) point of view, a different horizon. If you don’t check your point of view regularly, if you’re not willing to adapt it when the occasion rises, perhaps it isn’t that good, at least you’re not taking yourself/your view seriously. Defending a point of view with one’s life to me means staying put at one place, rigidly. But of course this is also a point of view…so please, you can take me seriously if you want/have time, and shoot on it!

I’ll shoot at your U2 comment. You give me the impression you think that shouting along at a concert ‘to make the world a better place’ is free, without consequences, when the visitors drive home to their comfortable places. Nothing changes right? I don’t agree. People visiting a concert are not fighting/killing at that moment. Shouting along/listening to music can give people the possibility to let go of their (excess) emotions, it can be a means of ‘purification’.
It’s possible some line from a song keeps repeating itself long afterwards and people get inspired to actually do whatever they think might help to make the world a better place. The organization of concerts gives people work. It’s easy to name negative effects too, but in any case it’s not without consequences. It's not 'free'.

Now back to your question. I wrote ‘Some say we inherited the ability and desire to create, like we wish to take part in the on-going Creation.’ I read that on the day I wrote it to you, never wondered about it before. I find it an interesting thought, as a starting point. Today I’m thinking this: if Creation isn’t fixed but something on-going, the desire to create isn’t enough. One needs the ability too. If there is only the ability but no desire to create, nothing happens to it too. Where *do* both come from is a next question. If you see any point in thinking about these things, please share your opinion. Sharing a virtual glass of cooled rose instead is fine with me too, no kidding.

I like it very much (to say the least) that you are prepared to unconditionally pay the price I have in mind. Come to think of it, you might like paying the price better than what you’ll get in return for it… Where can I send my price to, so you can start paying?

So much else to talk about, I’ll hold the thoughts, while baking strawberry cakes with my hosts kids. Hope you have a lovely day, E.

Yours,
J.P.

J-love,

Finally, you woke up!
You still beat around the bush, but I can't have it all at once can I.
'Every point of view has it's horizon';
sure thing, an open door,
but not to be used as an argument in a discussion.
Like: it's just a matter of taste.
Also not done.
At least if you want to discuss.

And I must say , I not very much impressed with your arguments pro U2 fans (or any other group, artist) clamming 'to make the world a better place'.
'People visiting a concert are not fighting/killing at the moment'.
Wauw, what a relief.
'The organisation of concerts give people work'
How practical.
A lot of things give people work: cutting trees in the Amazone, killing whales, torture people in Iranien prisons....
The question is how far will the howling crowd go in taking 'consequences' for a better world.
Not very far I guess.
Maybe it's not completely free, but it will never cost more than their own comfortable life allows.
Which is, by the way, ok.
Hey, were only human.
But this 'inspired' singing along (in the case of U2) and to have strong opinions of how to save ..... (fill in a subject of your liking) the next weekend drinking with your friends in the local bar (and curse a bit because the price of your favorite beer is raised with 0.10 cent) or at a political gathering is quite damaging.
Probably more damaging then a good fight,
like they have once or twice a year in Sienna.
Mentioning Siena, now I'm so close I might go to the palio-races.
Were you ever there?
Siena, a city that doesn't exist in a book without an -e-.
But than again, you and I also wouldn't excist.
(you think Coen = Pablo)

Send the price as soon as you have catched the next pigeon to attach it to.
The door is open.

Love,

E.

Dear Je

Beck Jr. told me Silvio *has* a snake.
A nasty on, if I believe Beck's description of it.
Quite different then a sea cucumber.
(or a starfish)
So, watch out!!

ic

lovelE

Horizon an open door, sure, an invite to pass through.
Could have left it out, I agree.

You agree that the shouting along has consequences, it’s not free. (What you call work btw I call engaging in a criminal act, but who’s completely innocent these days?)
Let me ask you: what does a person have to do to make the world a better place in your opinion? Go beyond his/her comfort zone? If so, why? Or should he/she not even try?

You think Emmi is manipulative? First time I got to know her, I found her pushy, ‘opdringerig’, going way too far minding Leo’s affairs. Then it struck me it’s just a pose under which there is a very insecure Emmi, begging for Leo’s attention. Which is understandable looking at her marriage out of pity to a sack of beans. I see Leo as the more mature person in the relation. On the other hand he needs Emmi too, to learn how to bond, not running away everytime a woman get’s close.

I went out to buy pigeon-seed this morning and spread some of it in my backyard. Now I have them sh****** all over the place. I can’t even sit at my favorite spot to read. Thanks! Hope to catch one of the little fellows soon, to bring you your message.

So Beck helps Papi to get his hands on special books. Did he try to obtain yours? I missed out what you mean with Kings. Can you tell me a bit more about that? What was his most special catch/hunt? I just found back part II of “An Egyptian Hieroglyphic Dictionary”. Would he be interested?

Thanks for warning me about Papi’s snake. Can your friend instruct me how to handle it?
It looked like Papi tried to reach me this morning, but he hung up on me. My knees were suddenly shaking like a willow. Bad omen you think? My escorts have a talent to disappear beneath the surface, at least that’s something.

Mention Siena and I get a spontaneous tooth ache, in need for a dentist … badly…
Went there several times when I lived in V. Did you see it? Did you eat at the heart of it/climb the tower? Seen any horses?

Dein J.

400
380
360
340...

Dearette

Beck Jr. gave me the following procedure:
Papi's snake seems to become friendly when you look for eye-contact first.
Don't look away.
Let the snake come to you, let him touch you.
Let him play with you.
Even if you think he will strangle you.
Then talk to him, whispering.
At some moment the snake will be your friend.
Or at least will act as if he's your friend.

Beck's books are of a very different nature then my book (which is still hidden safely).
Actually the books are not written by Beck himself but by K. who he admires fully, which I understand, although I never read a K. book.
Beck wants to produce a special edition of these books (his father couldn't finish the project) and sell it to Kings and Queens.
Beck told me that some have already agreed to pay the 50.000 per book .
Beck has the Hieroglyphic explanations of K.
He told me that everything else doesn't meet the standard of K.

Don't go beyond your comfort zone!
The world leads it's own life, regardless what we do or try.
The outcome of what we try or do is unknown.
Stop pretending.
Read Qohelet.
The world can, in the end, do perfectly without us, she doesn't need us and doesn't ask for us.
Certain things people do/pretend, I would call hypocrite.
Instead of howling along with U2 and pretent you make the world a better place, howl along with U2.
Be nice to your cat (if you have one).
Be nice to Papi and his snake.
But kill him if his attention weakens.
If you want to give your money away, don't hesitate.
If you want to give money to me, I give you something in return.

E.

PS. I received the starfish-flower. Is that the price I have to pay?

Dearic

Thanks for Beck jr.’s advice, I highly appreciate it.
Does Beck jr. think of me as the new Elle Driver of the DVAS by the way? I do like her style, especially her black suit.
I’m asking myself: will I have enough courage to hand over the wheel when the moment’s there? I could easily forget the bridge, take a plane instead and gaze at the clouds…
Interesting task Beck jr. has set for himself. He works so hard, does he suffer from Insomnia? Was his father’s job interrupted by something?

I’ve tried on my hiking shoes, but the tissue between my toes has grown so wildly, that the shoes don’t fit anymore. That’s a major setback. When I look down and spread my toes I feel like I look just like a duck.

The world you are referring to is the world of ‘das Mann’, men in general, with its multiple comfort zones. I’ll read Qoholet if you read Heidi.
You warn me not to go beyond my comfort zone. I’m afraid your advice comes too late.
You don’t like hypocrites. I don’t like people using that word. What I also don’t like is my gravestone to say: “she was nice”.

Are you about to finish your Grand Tour or do you have some last inspiring spots in mind?

Ah, you received the starfish flower. You like it? Will you believe it’s 10 years old? It comes from Fiji. It’s not my price though. That is something you can’t buy or find, you’ll have to put your personal effort in it. I’m close to catch a pigeon. I’ve spotted a suitable one (who’s facial expression reminds me of Adorno btw). I’ve made a nice piece to clip the message on, two silver rings with a colorful stone in between. So you know which bird to look for when it comes your way... maybe tomorrow, maybe the next day.

Jeannette

You want to give me something in return for money???
What's your price?

Dearette,

"Elle Driver of the DVAS", I don't know; does he have reasons to think about this connection?
Do you like to wear black suites?

The thing with Beck Jr. is that I never see him work!
He always talks about work, but spends his time in expensive restaurants and driving around in hired limousines.
His father's job was interrupted because of some scandal.
I don't know the exactitudes, but after this he became a mild old man who died at 81.

You don't like people using the word hypocrite.....
Interesting..... are you one yourself?
You like to howl with U2 and think you make the world a better place?
Another reason?
Would you like your gravestone to say: 'she was a hypocrite (but don't say it out loud)'?
By the way, I didn't say I don't like hypocrites.
Most of them probably not, but I know a few that are quite ok.

You don't have to read Qoholet if you don't want to.
You are already tired of the discussion?
No ammunition left?

Glenn Gould playing Bach makes the world a better place.

My Gran Tour (as you call it) ends when I die.
Since I'm planning to become 107..........
(do you think Coen is Pablo)

I don't have a fixed price.
I'm like a curtain: you pay per meter.

love E.

Dearest Wander Er

Why think about the Califonian Mountain Snake herself?
Because she knows all there is to know about snakes, f.i. the Black Mamba.
Ask Beck jr. if you will. Did his dad leave anything special to him when he died, to be able to complete the task?

Wearing black suits, that’s me, dark grey ones too, with a nice shirt.
Watch Elle’s visit to Budd to know what I like. Dark ruby is my color for anything else.

I don’t like (people) using the word hypocrite, cause most of the time it’s just labeling, being judgemental without asking to that specific person why he/she does what he/she does. Too often it’s a closed door. Would I make you happy to state“I’m a hypocrite”?

As an epitaph “at least she pretended” is preferable above your suggestion, but Eric, why not find me one that’s more interesting or one can laugh about? “She played - she won, she played - she lost, she played…” or “Come over here, I’m fun to be with”? And what do you like on your stone, if you were to have one? “Yours”?

I don’t howl with U2, but I howl with the Cult f.i. with ‘Brother Wolf’ . Gaat tenminste nergens over. When was the last time you howled?

You talk about ammunition, while we are just at the stage of choosing weapons.
I’m incredibly tired, but for another reason: one of the escorts cut a toe outdoors in a very awkward way, causing a lot of pain, so that kept me busy all night. It gave me time to sort out some old Youtubes in between, finding an interesting instruction-clip for Papi.
Listened to Gould’s Bach from december on, and keep coming back to these three recordings.
Why does it make the world a better place? Because it makes it more beautiful…?

Coen could be Pablo, perhaps. He finally made me see what I had to learn: less = more, less = more...
But that doesn’t apply to curtains I believe. What’s your price per meter?

* J.

Adorno is on its way. Open your door.

J.

To label somebody can also be an invitation to start a conversation.
When you are not afraid to talk.

Howling along with U2 and because of that pretending you've made the world a better place.
How would you call that?
Naiv?
Or is that a label too?
And when do you stop asking and start labeling?

At the moment i'm indifferent if you call yourself a hypocrite or not.
It depends on the context I guess.
The last time I howled: yesterday evening.

At least you pretended what?
I want an empty stone!
Even better: burned and burried underneath a tree.

J. you move slow (sorry for the toe and broken night, hope your escort is a bit better again), still choosing a weapon.

I just figured out that there are two Pablo's: a Pablo and a pablo.
If Coen if one of them, who is the other?
And did Pablo, pablo or Coen teach you less = more?

I'm taking another flight tomorrow and see where it will bring me.
I need somebody who can read Latin.
My price per meter depends on the fabric. At the moment I'm working on a rather simple curtain of ± 2 - 2.5 mtr. which costs ± 550,-, which is fairly cheap.

J. get some good sleep, nice dreams and stop searching for weapons.
Be nice to your companion(s) and everybody who is dear to you.

Yours,

Eric

Dearest J.

Coen isn't Pablo.
Do you believe him?

E.

my dear

I had a good rest, waking up asking myself: did I do something that offended you?

Labels:
- for those U2-fans: robbed from their money
- as an invitation: yes, some are more inviting then others, but yes if that’s the labelers aim and is willing to talk beyong the labeling, yes.
What made you howl yesterdayevening? I'm very curious.

What I pretended shouldn’t be on the stone, makes the epitaph something that tickles the imagination of horsemen passing by. I’ll have your ashes for one of my trees. See how it grows on you. You’ll be in every leave for years. 107 you said… Couldn’t you send a sample before?

I move to slow to your liking?? We just chose our weapons. You’re not pulling out now, are you? The escort is up ‘running’ and looking pretty again. Ready for the confrontation. The other one is more enticing I must say. They will be traveling in the region the next two days, to do some more research. I found the solution for my shoes: I’ll put on Eric D’s. He wouldn’t mind, would he? The poor soul. It couldn’t harm me, could it?

Well that Pablo, he’s too clever in his ways to be just twofaced/twonamed. He could be using other names on this blog, him being omnipresent. But Coen? Nah. Very recently I had to loose the dot behind my name, to have my comments accepted. Very strange.
Which Pablo teached me my lesson, I don’t now. Before I fel asleep he told me he’ll be back to instruct me to look at another part of the image again and chased away a snake in my curtains. When he get’s that friendly, I can’t help wondering when he’ll show me his other side. Maybe he won’t this time, but I’m not sure. I finally grew to understand him a bit, and his good intentions with me.

Your current curtain is quite affordable. How do you pick your tissue? Will you think of making one for me? Or a veil?

Good flight, don’t forget to look out your window from time to time.
I’m gonna refresh my Italian.

tlc
J.

E.W.

This morning I received a ‘token of appreciation’ by mail of no one less than dr. Goose! He’s back in the Pacific, looking for teeth I presume. Goose says hello to you and is interested in your whereabouts.

Within the hour the postman rang again, leaving me a small box with a gift from Papi. He wants me to wear an Italian dress on Friday. It’s so not my color, but I tried it on, out of curiousity. Pfff, it’s looks, well, what can I say….it looks pretty good, like the taylor knew every line of my body. It doesn’t go with Eric D’s shoes though, and I feel I need to wear them. So what to do…

Why do you need someone who knows Latin? Does it have to do with your next destination?

smiling J.

Dear jeanette p

Offending me.........

Don't be afraid of Papi, the dress seems a positive gesture.
Were you aroused by his present?
How does it feel to have the dress resting on your skin?

I understand your curiousity about my howling........

I'm happy your escort is back at full strength, your not going to take a third man with you?
Just to be sure?
Eric D. would be honored when you wear his shoes.
The dress - shoe problem goes beyond my expertise.
You'll have to ask somebody else.
Coen?

The latin has to do with the books of K. wich are wonderful to look at and to imagine what he is writing about.
Beck Jr. says he's willing to help me, but I'm not sure.
When I need him, he's gone.
I even sometimes start to doubt if he can read the books himself.

My next destination is a tower that reaches the moon.
Five women are waiting there for me.
They promised to sing for me.

love,

E.W.

Dear j p

PS. you have a third man?

Dearest E.

You howling triggers my mind for some reason.
Did it include any pretending, before, during or after?

The dress keeps my mind busy too.
The inside fabric is soft as silk, like someone caressing me while moving, the skirt ‘ritselt’ while walking:
makes me feel like a summerbreeze…
you know what I mean?

But do I want to please Papi by putting it on?
Like the first score is his when I adjust to his expectation, vanity taking hold of tactics.
I’m not too good in pleasing. On the other hand why reject a nice gift? A small bottle of perfume called 'Euphoria' fel out of the box yesterdayevening. It has a delicately sweet smell.

A third man will come to the scene after one week. He agreed on travelling to the city of S. with my friend I. and take the escorts home, while my friend and me hike up north. I think he'll have a hell of a good time with them....
You think it’s too dangerous to be out there just the three of us?
(I. knows Latin and New Greek by the way)

This week I had to think of a South African handreader I met on a party in Belgium 23 years ago. He told me several things about my past that were true and about the future that have become true by now, leaving me with his voorspelling that there will be two men in my life after a certain age. Know you talk about a third man, funny.

Your tower sounds very good,
a place to feel at home, be happy.
The moon being feminine too,
you’re missing out on one more woman
to get a perfect seven.

Is Beck still around?
Have you seen Adorno by the way?

x J.

Dear jeanette p

About my howling:
I don't know.
I had to think about it every other minute today.
Sometimes I thought 'yes' or 'sure' but then corrected myself with a 'no'.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I will try to howl on a more concious level next time and tell you about it.

I can't advise you about the danger-level of your trip, sorry.
About the three men:
I had a dream that I forgot about until it visited me again last night.
You were there; kind of flying with a man.
Each of you carried a small boy.
The four of you were just flying around.
When I had the dream for the 2nd time, you were flying alone, carrying both boys.

Beck Jr. is in Germany at the moment, settle some financial business.
And Adorno didn't show up.
I got a message to look at some door, but there was nothing to see.
So I got drunk.

tomorrow is the big day!
Can't wait to hear your story afterwards.....

Have a safe trip!

yours,

E.

Dear Eric

Now you got me even more intrested in your howling.
Please do continue your research,
and present me with your outcome at your earliest convenience.

I asked Coen some advice on my dilemma what to wear when I meet Papi tomorrow. Something tells me to wear a black dress...

Remember the words that were written on my wall when I had to shovel all the sand out:
“Paradiso, this way” with an arrow pointing to the front door and “Inferno, this way” with an arrow pointing to the bathroom?
I found out where Paradiso stood for, but the Inferno kept puzzling me. Yesterdayevening I saw the answer was staring me in the face. I looked again and again at the venduta that I have to bring tomorrow and realized I hadn’t looked at its back or behind the frame of the picture, and there it was……
my my, that Papi knows what he likes pays for, but will he be in for a surprise tomorrow…

Some dream you had!!
I wish Johan Schokker would be around more on this blog to help and explain them, him being an expert. Pablo told me dreams in the morninghours behold a prophecy.
I had an incredibly disturbing dream about you some nights ago. Horrific.

I almost finished packing and asked Daniel25 to accompany us. He prefers to stay at home, he just discovered some French Cinema dvd’s. Currently he’s watching ‘Ma Mere’. You know it?

I hope Adorno turns up at your doorstep/window soon.
Why not spread some seed to manouevre Adorno into your tower or try calling him.

Whenever you get drunk again, always leave a few drops in your glass, will you?
I’ll get back to you soon, to tell you the story. If Papi doesn’t finish me, I’ll be looking at the stars or clouds in the wild every night, thinking of ….
oh well, what the hack...
thinking of you!

Yours,
leopard-Jeanne

Dear E.W.

Am in a hurry,
barely (literally) survived meeting with Papi,
started out OK
put on his dress
and E.D. shoes

His assistents received me
in a green+white striped square tent
in the middle of the bridge
There was a cook named Henri who preparing the most delicious chicken and a priest called P. (who had the gift of looking for 20 miles with one eye). He put a serene atmosphere in the tent.

Suddenly Papi and his Mastino*s (the ones Can Grande della Scala used to rip apart prisoners in his castlesquare) came in. I hadn' t heard a car or chopper or even a horse ...

He was most polite and we had lunch together and then it all went wrong, herendously wrong....

shoot ...

I here his dogs howling,
must go now
we are at the beach
no time to loose
we' ll run for the forest

your J.

Dear E.

Today we arrived at a wood just outside a very small and smelly Viking village. R., the daughter of the chief found us while wandering the woods. She gave us milk, bread and berries and promissed to tell no one about our whereabouts.

Well yesterday isn*t out my mind yet.
Papi asked for the painting and I was so curious what he would do once he found out the Dante's kinky version of l*inferno was missing.
He gave me a painting of Adam and Eve in return, rolled up like a scroll. Looked like one from the Ufizzi, a 16th century one.
Nothing wrong yet.
Then he told me he knew about Dante's canto*s missing.
He put them there for me to find, to be sure I would want to see his face on returning the emptied frame.
He said the Dante wasn't important, no work of art is, he only was interested in my spiral and wanted to see it.
Of course I refused, and then he got angry and pulled out his black stick, the one with the double headed hyena on top...

While Papi was rubbing the top with his hand my dress started to itch and gave me a burning sensation. Then I saw the fabric was making blisters on my flesh where it touched my skin, so fierce and so painfull, I had to rip it off...

... Ah, there is R. coming to grease us in with wolves_fat so the Mastino dogs won*t be able to smell us...

C U you later...

tuo J.

Dearest E.

While the escorts where minding the priest (should have instructed them better) Papi just stared at the spiral
grabbed his black stick and pressed it so hard into the center of it
it almost made me vomit.
´We'll make it work, with our without your cooperation', he said.
but the spiral refused to start turning.
´I want to know where Eric has hidden his book, the reflection of the spiral will show me, I am sure', he said.
He pushed the pole even harder, without any effect but an agonizing pain.
Then my shoelaces undid themselves, all deep-purple and chrosoprase, starting to produce smoke and and fire. Papi hadn't seen them before, and he went into hyperventilation, only uttering ´ajuta me, ajuta me´.
I saw a change to push him aside, grab the stick and run for the exit of the tent.
Henri was waiting outside: ' I just hate Italians' he said 'don't worry about the escorts, the priest will take care of them, now jump!'
I looked down and felt dizzy.
Then I looked up to the two towers of the bridge.
'Jump Jeanette' Henri urged again.
I had no choice, so I jumped, head down, Henri taking the free flow next to me...

Down by the water we saw Silvio's boat, the tissue between my feet came in handy for the first time, I could walk to it, put Henri and the pole inside and pushed the boat to the shore.

Henri says we have to go way north
to a perfect place to read on location
there we should meet priest P. and the escorts again
Somehow I trust Henri,
don't ask me why.

We'll have to get ready to leave,
R. will lead us to a canu at midnight
the moon is bright...

*J.

Dear E.W.

Have you found out what is behind the door yet?

And how is your research on howling developing, any interesting findings you want to share?

Today was the second day on the water.
The canoe turned out to be a kayak, which asks for different skills. Since Henri isn't the muscular type, but has soft shoulders and the concern to take care of his delicate hands, I'm the one who does allmost all of the peddling. It is though but great fun. One more week and I'll look like a Rugby-player.

At night we get on the rocky shore to find a place to camp, prepare a campfire, go fishing, eat dried elk-meat and look for berries.
It's quite tranquile where we are staying but there are always other campers you can hear at a proper distance. The beauty of the lakes and the surroundings areas are rather impressive.

I use Papi's scroll as a blanket and dream in rich colors, after listening to Henri, talking about chicken, chicken and chicken, war, chess, Voltaire, men about women, women about men, men with women and vice versa, Wickie the Viking and chicken.

The blanket looked different this morning, but I haven't found out yet in what way. Adam and Eve are still on it, and the snake, but the composition looks different somehow.

How is your curtain by the way?

x
J.

Dear E.

Where are you wandering around lately?
Did Beck jr. and you meet again to travel some more?
Or are you staying at your tower?

I came home at last, after an exhausting trip.

As we didn't make it in time to get to reading-on-location spot,
priest P. left a note for us there, telling us he would bring the escorts to the third man in time and wait till we could join my friend I.
Unfortunatly she didn't turn up: a bad case of swine flu, but priest P. offered to accompany me to the north, riding together on his horse.
He urged me to take the Adam & Eve scroll with me, so I did.

He was very good company, telling me all about the book of "Revelation" and repetition. Equally interesting were his stories about what he could see with his eagle eye.....: while the church in his parish was filled on sundays with ordinary sinners, he could see the ones who where "too ill" to make it to the church, making love from 5 to 10 miles away, whether in front of a window, in some alley or in free nature.
He said he prayed for them....
.....
to amuse him again next week!

He suggested to sleep under the painting together.
A priest can be trusted, right? So I agreed.
The first night was strange but comfortable,
the second night kind of relaxed and nice,
but the third night....
well, I'll have to find some words
that can describe it properly...
the advice from Beck jr. on snakes was very very just!!

drop a note will you?
so I know you're ok,

cordialmente
J.