Lately sleep takes more than only an essential part of my existence. I always sleep until at least twelve…then have a tea and go to library late in the evening. Don’t miss out on the two hours afternoon nap.
Apart of the wild dreams…it seems that I am confronted with teenage experiences. Yesterday I read an anthology, also with the first poem I ever read in English (in fifth grade): Robert Frost’s ”The Road Not Taken”:
And next example comes from music. When I started learning English by intention (and not school) I used one particular album by Green Day ”American Idiot”. Sure, all the swear words are nothing for a learner, yet it felt so much they sang about me (just without the love part).
Yesterday I also went to the French musical ”La Boheme”…and with a big sigh I must say ”Theatre is not what it used to be in Shakespeare’s time”…or well, I am in the wrong time.
With the beginning of this term I could not believe I find my way into poetry but…am working on four drafts of poems and found myself tending to surrealist poetry.
No doubt I always adored Dali and other surrealist painters…and it probably also had a reason why I found myself in a lecture about German surrealist paintings last week. However, it scares me a bit…to put myself into this category…into any category. Why…it burdens me to bring surrealist poetry to a new step…the archaic say …to a new era!