11 years younger

My Mimamai is born February 1959. February 11 years before  my mother gave birth to me. Since my very early childhood  marvellous women shelter my little life.

The female wonder world opens the eyes to my heart. With eyes from my heart the fantasy travels in a land of peace,  joy and relaxation and leaves the world and the mind with  quarrels and sorrows behind.

Mind attracts violent movies in- and outside. War and murder movies plus violent sport fights are the basic of my 'cultural entertainment' - not only mine I guess.

Mimamai opens up the eyes of my heart. Her energy writes through my fingers at night in our poor Bamberg holyday apartment.

Another report from my ridiculous life: Two little rooms in the last little house from of a tiny street in an dead end  road. No car, no bird disturbs the cold winter night. This picturesque romantic part of Bamberg was built before  several centuries.



Two little rooms in the last little house

Two little rooms in the last little house ...

 
...behind the Castle Concordia
My mind is not satisfied to listen to the heart beat at  night. Years ago my body was burning in desires. Mimamai  opened herself up even half asleep whenever these flames of  lust needed to burn down in sweating exercises. Her body  served as toy for mine to cool down my fiery fantasies. Her  joyful breath pushed up our body flames till all lust was burned. Finally the mind was silenced in an exhausted body.

Relaxed our bodies slipped into sleep again, filled with  each other in fulfilment. These years are gone.

Thankfulness and humbleness for her female power and  attraction remain. Once was sex the attraction to start the night. Now it's a luxurious glass of red wine or two.  Tonight a bottle of best beer unfolds the wings to ride on a  horse of fantasy.

Our life is rooted in a rough ridiculous reality. From these roots the life tree blooms into cosy creativity. Friends in  cyber space share their flowers and fruits of fantasy with  mine.

Mostly silent and left alone in real life our fantasies  connect with friends on a worldwide journey. We celebrate  rituals of funny fights and loud love.

Caroline down under burns up with Paramiti from California  her fire works of words. Love is felt from female energy  love is felt from all energy. But love is a four letter word  only. Reality in life is work, earning and spending money.

Is this life?



Thankfulness and humbleness for her female power and  attraction remain.



Like a robot my body machine supports her in this torturous time.

This life has no soul, because only a mechanical mechanism  feeds the body: inspiring influences, air to breath, drinks  and food. The body machine produces strange smelling  products after a while. From the sexual gum opposite gender  stay together for decades: 11 years now with Mimamai.

After several decades filled with pain and lust the body  machine is finished. Death is the end.

So called wise people console with imaginations like from 'Angels rejoice in Heavens, Devils suffer in Hell'. Other  wise men have experienced 'rebirth' after a careful caring life. Next wise ones imagine an 'unlimited consciousness in limited body'. The wisest ones found an 'Inner Guru' and want  us to join on an arduous path.

My experience is so simple: Soon the alarm clock commands to  wake up. My Mimamai has to work 23 days more daily 12 hours  in her little market hut. Like a robot my body machine supports her in this torturous time.



My Mimamai has to work in her little market hut.
Her friend Erika short visit from Munich.
When she opens the eyes of my heart peace is felt - even in  these sleepless poor nights. Thanks my Mimamai!

Oil of the robot machine is joy. Saturday evening: her shop  is closed. Mimamai relaxes with Harry Potter in the little TV set. Sunday she opens her hut at 10.00 a.m., so she enjoys the evening entertainment.

My robot machine finds some regeneration in Bath  Staffelstein, the most salty waters in Bavaria. Beer and  raspberry schnapps finish my ridiculous little Saturday  night fever. The Sunday joy should be shared with my  daughter in Nuremberg. My old robot machine runs with this gas oil called 'love'.

My daughter teaches strange lessons. She mirrors my energy. It doesn’t feel good. It would be better just to listen in  love to her tender soft voice. Her body has not yet fully  recovered. We had to learn hard lessons together this year.  And we did not yet have passed the examination fully together. The examination is life. A healthy life…..



Mimamai relaxes with Harry Potter in the little TV set.



Hand painted Bear Beaker

Town Hall in Bamberg 9.40 a.m. Sunday 12-01-2007



With my daughter in Nuremberg rail road museum:
'Adler build 1835''

back