Thin Skinned Darkness Has emerged for us on earth. How are we going to ride it? Paradoxically, as a child, I experience thin-skinned darkness in the majestic pathless unpeopled forests. The canopy of tall trees, whispering high above to each other in secret languages. Leaving us humans on the moss-covered bottom in the dark. Soft bare feet. Mama in her wide long light-blue skirt, smiling Papa, little brother, little sister, further off, invisible and yet present. Family is spread far apart. I know their presence. Der Wald ist dunkel, und schön. Durchsichtig. Transparent. Dünnhäutig , thin skinned. We each – sammeln Beeren – collect buckets of berries, blue and red, in pregnant silence. Blaubeeren, Walderdbeeren, Waldhimbeeren. Blau und Rot. Food to be transformed into a simple dish, berries with milk – heavenly. And jam or jelly for the winter, our vitamin supply. The fifties in Bavaria, Germany. Post war. Our displaced small family. For me as a young girl, time...
