Evgenia had sent in some inspirations, this one made it’s way ot of the treasure chest.
Today was interesting – like every day, I was inviting to come what wants to come, to leave, what wants to leave and to stay what wants to stay … and somehow the tattoo did not stay. I debated with myself, if I could really let it leave. In the end I decided I could, with my freedom as an artist. Instead of that ink, I remembered a poem of Rainer Maria Rilke, and the black ink found its way to the paper (actually black ink on black ink):
God speaks to each of us as he makes us,
Rainer Maria Rilke, 1899 (Book of Hours)
then walks with us silently out of the night.
These are the words we dimly hear:
You, sent out beyond your recall,
go to the limits of your longing.
Embody me.
Flare up like a flame
and make big shadows I can move in.
Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.
Just keep going. No feeling is final.
Don’t let yourself lose me.
Nearby is the country they call life.
You will know it by its seriousness.
Give me your hand.
I also want to add its original in German:
Gott spricht zu jedem nur, eh er ihn macht,
Rainer Maria Rilke, 1899 (Stundenbuch)
dann geht er schweigend mit ihm aus der Nacht.
Aber die Worte, eh jeder beginnt,
diese wolkigen Worte, sind:
Von deinen Sinnen hinausgesandt,
geh bis an deiner Sehnsucht Rand;
gib mir Gewand.
Hinter den Dingen wachse als Brand,
dass ihre Schatten, ausgespannt,
immer mich ganz bedecken.
Lass dir Alles geschehn: Schönheit und Schrecken.
Man muss nur gehn: Kein Gefühl ist das fernste.
Lass dich von mir nicht trennen.
Nah ist das Land,
das sie das Leben nennen.
Du wirst es erkennen
an seinem Ernste.
Gib mir die Hand.
Coming to the dress the image of a pomegranate strongly appeared in my mind, so here you go:
and a close up on the poem:
I am tired today.
Thank you, Evgenia!
<3 Susanne