One of the things that I love most about my life in Berlin is sitting on my
balcony. So I sit here tonight wrapped in an old black coat that my
nephew Sam once told me looked like the fur of a teddy bear. I feel
warm and I feel quiet.
My street has some big leafy trees that finally now in early May are full
and green. These luxuriating boughs have something calm and floating
about them. I sit in my chair and experience a feeling of peace. The
building across the street is a deep purple brown color and my corner is
strangely quiet even though I am in the middle of the city. I look over
the tops of the trees at buildings that were built before the war and the
roof tops are filigree with stucco, arches and ovals that surround
windows and framed balconies. The neighbors have an assortment of
different flowerpots and trees and candles. People come out for a smoke
and talk in the twilight flicking their burning ashes. The air is fresh,
birds sing in celebration of the dusk and the coming of summer. Spring
brings them out as it brings out the leaves and the blooms that appear
gently over the metal holders that line the balconies. On the corner of
the building across the street, the face of a woman is looking out like on
the bow of a boat. Her regal nose and lips in profile like an Egyptian
statue or like the face on a totem pole. On top of the roof of the building
is a small cupola that almost looks byzantine and it has a light. Where
did this come from, this strange mixture of style and ornament. Low in
the distance I hear the hum of traffic but it is so soft that the sound of
the city is pleasant. A cacophony of birds singing and a distant
accelerating motorcycle mixes with voices that pour out of someone’s
television. It is city living but with something not like many other cities
that I know. It feels like a breeze that one feels in the country, a
freshness in the air.
This year I planted some lavender plants and when they are moved by
the wind or jostled as I walk by they let out their aroma. I don’t know
why this spot in my wicker chair that traveled here with me from
Bremen makes me so happy. I love a quiet night at home where I can let
my mind stop and regenerate for the activity of my daily life. Though
often torn between the need to be alone and the time that I must have to
let my body rest and the desire to be with people, I think that I love
these moments on the balcony because I feel whole here. I don’t mind
being at one or being just one in this moment. I dream, I think, I feel that
my creative battery charges. I have no pressure, to look at my computer
or listen to music. The city is my music and my muse. Inner peace is
hard to come by when running and moving. I had to learn how to do find
this, I had to discover the joy of this peace over years of traveling alone
for work. Being at home and having this is the ultimate luxury knowing
my books and paintings and the comfort of my own sofa and bed are
just through the door.
My voice has taught me to look for that calm. My voice demands that I
learn to be in the moment. My voice asks me to find myself and to be
true to myself. My voice requires that I be honest and this makes me
true when I am on the stage. Today I rehearsed for the revival of an
opera that I have not sung in years. This morning was a new role in the
opera that I never sang and when I made my entrance onto the stage the
director wanted me to have a moment where I take in where I am and
what it is like there.
Each day I would like life to be as that moment. Enter, look around,
smell, see and breathe. Berlin gives me this gift, Bremen gave it to me
before. Far from family and old friends, near to new friends and the
possibilities of a life not yet known. There is some fantasy awakened
and some hope that I feel lurking in the sounds that I allow my ears to
hear. A door closes, a buzzer rings and a car drives by. The neighbors
put their lights on where there was only a lonely candle 5 minutes ago.
Life goes on and I am part of it, sitting alone on my balcony with my
lavender and with the bark of the dog next door I know it is time to go
in.