Das erste Jahr Babybuddha jetzt auf:


A sudden spark in our baby’s eye (he’s lying the changing table, that strange and unique place, a kind of altar, comfortably accessible for us, thanks to its height, so easy on the back that we hardly need to bend down; a place of intimate encounter, which we visit several times a day, first to take care of necessary business, then to linger in a mood that may contemplative or boisterous; often accompanying our activities with talk or newly found singsong; our baby stretches his body under our hands and we think again: how he has grown, his feet are already reaching the edge; this place is sparsely furnished: a towel, a little drawer for diapers and oil, paper napkins and a bowl with warm water off to the side on the windowsill; when we return to this place, it’s as if we had never left it; a holy place that could not be more profane; over all our being and doing there hangs the heating lamp, its orange light behind a grid seems undecided between the reddish glow of dawn and of dusk. It will probably take us a day before we truly notice the spark in our baby’s eye. Once again here: a good place for it).



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