It's really hot today. So hot, I think my brain must be starting to melt. I find myself standing up to do something but as soon as I move I wonder what it was I wanted to do ... thinking takes a long time at the moment. I've just read that it's hotter here in this part of Germany now than it is in Brazil. Almost 40° C. Then again, isn't it winter in Brazil now..?
Outside everything is calm and tranquil, the streets are empty, deserted. Talking of streets ... the asphalt is beginning to melt, too. They had to decrease the speed limit on some of our main motorways to 80 km/h because the asphalt sticks to the tires.
Everybody seems to be in some kind of coma vigil. Here but not really here. Awake but not really present. Communicating is a bit strange as well right now. Life in slow motion. Somebody opens the mouth to say something but more often than not you'll just wait ... and nothing else happens. You look again and the other's mouth is shut again and you're not sure if anything has actually been said or not ... but somehow you feel unable to ask. I'm not even sure whether I like this heat or not. Thinking about it seems too complicated as well. I guess the children on school holidays are rather happy with the situation. The open-air baths must be crowded. It must be nice to be in the water ... in my bathroom there is no cold water anymore. So you can't really take a shower to refresh yourself. You turn on the cold water tap and think you have made a mistake. The water is warm. Then you try the other tap. And the water is boiling. The only place below 27° C is inside the fridge. I don't really care anymore. I just turn off both taps and try to remember whatever it was I was doing before I went into the bathroom.
When I went to work this morning the air seemed to be crisp and cool (for current standards). And suddenly, just before I reached the studio I had some kind of brainwave. Thinking came almost as a shock. My head was so full of thoughts and ideas, everything came up at once. Clarity. I had it all there, the greatest verbalizations. The clearest insights for weeks. I knew exactly how to put into words what has been lingering in my mind for so long. Just I couldn't exactly stop and ask somebody for pen and paper, sit down on the sidewalk and forget about work while writing down those new revelations. So with a shrug of my shoulder I went inside and took care of some photos. And while the temperature inside the studio started to rise, my mind started to shrink. When I was finished, everything was gone. Those brilliant ideas had disappeared into the yawning abyss of my summer amnesia. Though I must admit, I even lacked the energy to be disappointed for more than a moment.
I overhear a conversation between an old and a young woman beside me. Complaining. About the heat, of course. How unpleasant it is to sweat without even doing anything. How highly unnerving. The poor trees and flowers. What an effort it takes to water the garden these days. They sound desperate.
And suddenly I think how decadent we all are - including myself - how sick this is. To really look at this heat as a major problem. It's all we are occupied with right now. While there are thousands of people caught in Lebanon, trying to save their lifes. While hundreds died in Asia in the recent Tsunamis. This heat is making us so indifferent, so apathetic, it's startling in a way. We just don't care, do we? As long as we are not concerned, we put our minds on stand-by and let things happen. Saving our strengths for the few important things we think we have to do. Watering the garden ...
Sure I don't have a solution as well. But I can't really get it out of my head. Imagine to be there. In Beirut. Imagine how it will be hot as well, people caught in the bombings, in a town that only a couple of weeks ago was alive with people, enjoying themselves in the sun. Now praying to get out alive, out of the country, many of them leaving everything behind. How much do they care about the temperature? Every nation has it's own news about the "crisis" in Lebanon, counting their own citizens, counting how many are still left in Lebanon. What about those who are at home there? Who's counting them? Where do they go? This is all so confusing. This is a sick world in so many ways. I wish somebody had the answers. And I wish we all had more compassion left for those in need, even if we do not have the answers. What makes politicians tick? How do they manage to be so cold, make decisions that lead so many into disaster and misery, causing so much grief and suffering. Are they still human? Are we?
This heat still kind of paralyzes me. And I guess it's time to go. Strolling through the internet seems to be just the amount of effort one is able to make. And maybe I find some answers somewhere.
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