Das erste Jahr Babybuddha jetzt auf:
http://www.hanser-literaturverlage.de/verlage/hanser-box
Our baby’s hand reaches for everything (at least that’s what it looks like, that is how we interpret this hand’s ever resent readiness to reach and grasp; and a corollary that suggests itself is that for everything also means for the whole, as though our baby did not know the difference between the particular and the whole, as if the particular were just as much the whole as the whole is the particular and only the act of reaching for it makes this abolished distinction visible, and without the reaching and grasping everything and the whole, along with our suppositions about it, remains vague and pale). And we? We are, for the baby, the barrier that comes down (not without regret) to prevent misfortune and damage. Of course this makes sense to us, our baby must not reach for razor blades or the knife or the candle flame, but it is precisely this understanding that blinds us to that which we barriers are beyond the limits of necessity. We believe it is no exaggeration to say that our baby, who comes from the whole, is prevented by us (and we cannot do otherwise) from remaining in the whole. (Here our mind reels before the power that is using us to carve out its path, we let the baby reach for the unbreakable bowl and swing it around until it slips from his fingers, performs a tight loop and then crashes against the small tiles of our kitchen floor where, to our surprise, it breaks into two parts).
BabyBuddha 