Hinter irgendeiner der Wände hustet und lacht eine kleine Stimme. Eine merklich ältere, merklich müdere versucht Kinderlieder zu intonieren, verheddert sich immer wieder in Text und Melodie. Regen schlägt auf die Bleche vor den Fenstern, unvermittelt. Windige Stunden, unter grauem, zerklüftetem Himmel.

#outerworld #home office hours #stories of apppartments and encounters #where we are we are

Der Tag der Fluss die Weite das Rauschen. Drinnen wie draußen. Hunde des Viertels spielen über die Wiesen, Krähen und Raben begleiten Wandernde in sicherem Abstand. Sandige Ufer, Marken von Biberzähnen im Unterholz. Die Leere des Stadtsonntags zwischen zwei Brücken. Und die Suche nach dem Stillen, nach dem Schweigen des eigenen Lärms.

#outerworld #concrete city #sunday escapism #where we are we are

And then at some point silence becomes more prevalent and the mind is willing to let it sink in again. Another short stay at the back door, just to feel the air of night and collect a few sounds from the village surroundings. Lowlife in bushes, a distant car, the idea of a conversation somewhere out in the darkness but maybe that's little more than a side-effect of senses slightly overstimulated. Taking on dreams, one thought at a time. Sleep tight everyone wherever you are.

#outerworld #the village and the hills #where we are we are #stories of sleepy souls and restless minds

Evening, somewhere amidst rusty skies and rusty streetlights. Colours that kind of stayed the same ever since dusk went by. Taking a few more notes, all along the order of tomorrows business. Balancing between long, entwined phrases and pure, simple language. Unsure which of both is more challenging and more likely to be appropriate. Meanwhile below, the pub light flickers, leaving odd reflections on a still-wet sidewalk. Pondering temperatures, winter, frost and the appreciation for snow, after all. Halfway into dreams, wondering whether there will be sleep. Have a soft night wherever you are.

#outerworld #concrete city #the late hours #where we are we are #stories of rusty lights and pale skies

(Slowly warming up and feeling how much coldness crept in with the hours. Found a few more rocks for the office desk and there's a slightly confusing breach of context in this observation. Inside outside and an afternoon bright white.)

#outerworld #the baltic self #escapism #where we are we are #travel

9am and on. Appointments rescheduled moved canceled. Threads of communication cut or merged. Choosing music and a comfy blanket, and disconnecting for a bit.

#outerworld #concrete city #grounded #where we are we are

Closing in on 10pm, fast steps tired steps. A recap of the hours spent since morning. With the decision to keep track even of shorter periods of time, things get messy and confused and at some point the brain needs to look at something else. Swinging between a giggle and a sigh, noticing the evening lights across the street, that appartment that's not so empty anymore, the late dinner and these candles on a large table, just barely hidden behind the curtains of the balcony door. Too late for tea too late for wine and maybe the night is willing to settle still. Sleep tight everyone wherever you are.

#outerworld #concrete city #later that day later that night #where we are we are #stories of codes and constellations

Lunch break, deviations and a playful wind. Few snowflakes dancing above the concrete facades, in a pale light under pale light dripping from a pale sky. Pondering models, procedures, agents, accounts. Rewiring subsystems, cutting queues and waiting for things to reach a stable state again. Colleagues on and off for their breaks, a late call an unscheduled appointment and randomizing most of the hours between here and there. Wherever that might be.

#outerworld #concrete city #lunch break deviations #where we are we are #office hours

(Immer noch Wohnküche. Kernfamilien, innere und äußere Kreise. Eine Katze, heute in rotweißem Fell, beobachtet die Meisen am alten Schuppen. Der Kalender über der Sitzbank trägt das Bild einer nächtlichen Erde, vor dem Hintergrund dunkler Weite. Generationen, Eigenarten, Lebensumstände. Verständnis. Als allseitige, ständige Aufgabe. Und Schnee, wieder stärker.)

#outerworld #the village and the hills #where we are we are

9am and on. Bright mornings. The cold house, the one single room to be warm at this hour. Shared table, breakfast conversations. A slow start to a slow day, drifting through these hours. Like a lazy cloud, maybe.

#outerworld #the village and the hills #where we are we are

Lost in translation. Or maybe lost in transformation, unsure whether it's just about meaning that failed to find its way into words, due to the late hours and ones own limitations and shortcomings. Uncounted, unmeasured minutes spent gazing out at the dark night and its sky, at the different warm, bright, coloured, in some case blinking lights the neighbours wrapped around their balconies and terraces. Trembling even in warm rooms, not good at getting clothes right or perhaps just too sleepy for that. Slightly familiar silhouettes hurrying home from the bus, suggesting the breeze remained strong and cold for now. Retreating, disconnecting, nosetip meditation waiting for temporary dreams to take control. Sleep tight everyone wherever you are.

#outerworld #concrete city #the late hours #where we are we are #stories of lights and illusions

Slow down, late enough. Conversations in different settings, thoughts racing into and through different circles, spinning faster than one is used to. The unchartered territories. A dog barking in the street. The bartender standing in front of the pub, naked arms out of a thin tee and the very look makes one tremble and shiver. Taking a few moments to let the eyes get accustomed to the night. Taking a few moments to be able to see todays stars. Sleep tight everyone wherever you are.

#outerworld #concrete city #the late hours #where we are we are #stories of codes and constellations

Mittelgebirgskamm, andere Städte. Plätze und Gassen tragen die Namen alten Land- und Industrieadels. Sonne an anderen Kirchen, harte Schatten. Man ist allein, kreuzt keine Wege, die Mittagsstunde zieht eine kleine Welt in sich selbst zurück. Winter in Resten von harschem Schnee.

#outerworld #mountains and the world in between #where we are we are

Kaffee vor Vier. Immer noch Nebel. Alte Musik, alte Bilder, Sinnieren über Handarbeit und Kopfarbeit, über Dimensionen des menschlichen Wesens und Wertschätzung und Abstraktion und Zweck. Irgendwo, wieder, zwischen dem Hochstapler und der Empfindung der Bedeutungslosigkeit des eigenen Tuns.

#outerworld #the village and the hills #where we are we are #the winter in everything

Many hours later many miles southwest and finding oneself in that strange yet familiar balance, a fast and noisy week behind and still reconnected to the silence of the valley and its hills within winks of eyes. December weeks december lights and for just a few moment, time feels like passing slower out here until one realizes the years that went by, the age of the tapes on the shelf, the handwritten covers faded with too many small and big cycles of the sun, the scent and warmth of all these summers still somehow hidden within these walls, the clay, the straw, the wood. Relating. Belonging. Carrying stories around, and unfinished pictures in most of them. Sleep safe everyone wherever you are.

#outerworld #the village and the hills #where we are we are #stories of old #the silence of memories

Conversations lost track. Odd topics, contrasting needs. Torn again between the desire to have lightweight technology and being supportive when it comes to accessible tools. Ones own requirements and privileges, and the loneliness of seeing other demands first and foremost. Too many decisions and most of them aren't pleasant.

#outerworld #social technology #where we are we are

Another day another night and a blanket of early winter pulled all across the village. Standing in the open door, breathing that unique scent that hasn't changed much with the years. Imaginary frost on actual skin, a rough but vivid sensation. And the murmuring creek, invisible and old, under the ash and acorn trees disappearing in distant rivers. Trying to be a part of this silence, while the moment lasts. Have a soft night wherever you are.

#outerworld #the village and the hills #where we are we are #cold evenings cold nights

Somewhere later again. Briefly summing up the day, the week, reviewing mental notes taken along the lines. Agenda outlines, things that might be needed to do, looming deadlines and slowed-down responses. The evening in between the hills is dark and cold. Listening to the winds and whispers in the bushes, for a while, before turning down the lights and leaving things to themselves. Sleep tight everyone wherever you are.

#outerworld #the village and the hills #stories of late light and late minds #where we are we are

3pm and slowly on, heading out with the early afternoon flow. Different categories of early weekends, always in some state of hurry, drafts and edits and not worrying about missing passwords for now. The road again, instead.

#outerworld #always in between #moving on moving slow #where we are we are

(Schnee wünschte, eiskalte und fast waagerechte Regenschauer im zornigen Wind bekommt man. Alte Zeitungen und ein Pärchen leerer Plastikbecher tanzen über den Bordstein, die Hausmeister rollen Mülltonnen zurück in ihre Buchten. Übervoller Parkplatz, man kann sich gut aus dem Weg gehen, im Supermarkt streiken die Automaten weiterhin beharrlich, und ein kurzes Gespräch legt nahe: Die Technik ist weniger schuldig als die Prozesse. Warten auf Ersatzteile, Updates, Experten, Weihnachten. Bedauerndes, zustimmendes Kopfnicken, und zurück in die Böen und das Grau.)

#outerworld #concrete city #home office hours #where we are we are #sdgm #lunch break and weather

(Erwartete Handgriffe und unerwartete Stör-Impulse. Unterwegs zwischen den Etagen, in schnellem Schritt, kurz vor dem eigenen Treppenabsatz außer Atem und ratlos, welche Kraft diese Eile treibt. Genaue Tageszeit unbekannt, hinter milchigem Glas schwimmen bunte Punkte durch einen lichtlosen Ozean und man versucht das Gefühl abzuhängen, dass man eigentlich längst schlafen sollte.)

#outerworld #concrete city #early evening musings #where we are we are

Return of artificial stars to terraces and balconies with the year passing by. Neighbours engaged into disputes, windows opened way too wide to ignore. Once again. Monday in retrospect: An unordered collection of random sheets in what just vaguely resembles a book or magazine. A late pot of tea and a plethora of unresolved pending tasks. Progress but too little to be satisfied. Maybe tomorrow. Sleep tight everyone wherever you are.

#outerworld #concrete city #evening blues #where we are we are #stories of light and the memories it conceals

A flow of seconds minutes hours and a breath of wind in pale branches, reflections on old roofs, a dim light in a distant window and an empty glass to conclude the day. Late evening in between the hills, a distant yet close city, pondering virtual concepts in the real world: Contexts, environments, variables. Sounds of dialup connections, remote systems, slow lines, pixel aesthetics. And always that scent of the open fields, up there on the outer road. Mental images. Until thoughts retreat into an early state of dreams. Sleep tight everyone wherever you are.

#outerworld #the village and the hills #where we are we are #old homes #56k dialup aesthetics

Wolkenmond, kühler Glanz auf den Dächern, blasse Schatten am Grenzbereich zwischen Tagesphasen. Wein zum Abendessen, im Beginn der Woche, Sinnieren über Wurzeln und Verbundenheit und Gemeinschaft und den eigenen erweiterten Nahbereich. Ein skeptischer Blick gen Innenstadt. Und ein Lauschen auf das Summen, mit dem die Zeit ihre Absätze schreibt.

#outerworld #concrete city #evenings #where we are we are

Und immer wieder Ordnung als Prozess und Unordnung als Zustand und das Finden von Vergessenem und Verbanntem. Staub in der Luft, schmutzige Hände, vorsichtige Interaktionen neben den Verhauen und Waschmaschinen. Die Sonne schleicht unwillig um die Häuser, im Hof spielen Kinder. Jahre fühlen, Fragmente loslassen.

#outerworld #concrete city #where we are we are

Ending long hours after a short week, somehow. Heavy-headed, thin-minded. Looking at todays log, surprised by the amount of different aspects written into it, like a puzzle made of conflicting parts put together with more than just a gentle force. Unsure whether to examine gaps and overlaps. There has been enough analytics for now. Listening to the sound of the weather in the neighbourhood instead, watching late pedestrians walk their dogs and cigarettes and smartphones, and a few back room dwellers to head for the pub again. Quiet and indifferent. Sleep tight everyone wherever you are.

#outerworld #concrete city #the late hours #where we are we are