PARETZ oder willst du mich noch einmal sehen

Als ich so in der Morgendämmerung an der Havel zu mir unterwegs war, trat Arno Schmidt aus dem Unterholz und ließ mich das Land anders schmecken: „Der Wind, der Wind: pflügte heran, den sausenden Büffelkopf tief, über Brands-Haide, über die befahrene Straße, hügelhoch über Blattloses: dann rannte er auf dem freien Platz, daß der Kies stob, an uns; aber wir standen fest, die dünnen Arme ineinandergeschränkt, Lore, ich, Grete.“

But why ARNO SCHMIDT? Now. When I think about what happened there. The wind. There was no wind. But words in the air. Like the story of three refugees and their tender try to settle somewhere in the woods. Far away from homecoming.

But the faraway seems nearby thinking of PARETZ and REBECCA SOLNITs whispering: “We think we tell stories, but often stories tell us, tell us who to love and who to hate, whether to see or be blind. Often, too often, stories bridle us, ride us, whip us forward, drive us to do something we then do unquestioningly. The task of learning freedom requires learning to listen to stories, to interrogate them, to pause and listen to silence, to name something and become a storyteller ourselves.“

More about our #storycamp in #paretz you find here: https://www.beyondstorytelling.com/blog-x/2021/9/27/paretz-or-do-you-want-to-see-me-again