Das erste Jahr Babybuddha jetzt auf:
http://www.hanser-literaturverlage.de/verlage/hanser-box
Your way of cultivating large emotions may be different from mine. And so, while you are at work again (the rich city was covered with snow overnight), we (the baby, I) have a look at the painting you lingered in front of in a dream (as if spellbound, captivated, stunned). The picture does not show anything unfamiliar: the flight from Egypt (the mother and the baby on a donkey, which is being led by two cherubs, the father walking a little behind, the bag with their wherewithal slung over his shoulder, a cloudy but not sunless day, a wide, bluish landscape in the background). Maybe it’s the canopy, which another three cherubs are spreading over the mother with her child, that held your attention captive. It appears to be heavy and has swelling folds, yet this weight does not threaten to drag it downward. It’s like half of a roof and seems to be pushing forward more quickly than the two on the donkey, whom it is protecting from the sky. That’s it, we think (no, only I think this, the baby does not think it): this protection from the sky must have released a big feeling in you! But I cannot follow this, any more than the father in the painting (completely in the light and completely roofless) is able to follow his wife and the child (and may conceivably fall behind). (Then the baby on my back lets me hear his voice. No, this is not a dream.)
BabyBuddha 