Editorial: Conformity vs individuality
Were live in constricted and regimented times, with little room for otherness, not even in the comfort of our own home. Each posse or group, large or small, has its own uniform, the young, the hipsters, the successful, the nerds, the good mothers, elegant society, the bums in the park. At home, we work at keeping our body fit while having our mind set on the right furniture, clothes, diet, reading, series, shows, holidays. We work hard to belong, to be able to reassure each other that we are not mistaken, chose the right path in life, determine our own lives, are moving forward, spiritually, emotionally, physically, materially. The countryside as well as foreign countries are our escape. People are more conservative away from the big cities, but there is more room for singularity as well. It is not people, however, that make country life attractive but the immediacy of nature in all its glory. Mother Earth surrounds us, carries us and strengthens us. The moment we venture abroad, we become paying guests. Our hosts indulge us and keep an eye on us, so we may act for a brief moment as if we lived in a fool’s paradise. At least we manage to escape the conformity of our daily lives from time to time this way. Though there is more individuality in the world than ever, individualism is in high demand. Everything is integrated, no matter how consistently you follow your star. Lucius Werthmüller did not to follow fashion or fall prey to groupthink. He stayed true to himself while his lifestyle edged from the fringe towards the center of society. I think of him with deep regret. Kind and competent, he has become a role model for me through his unexpected death, earlier this month. If only he were just Luci, like before.
We miss him very much.
Sadly, yours
Susanne G. Seiler
Late Echo
Alone with our madness and favorite flower
We see that there really is nothing left to write about.
Or rather, it is necessary to write about the same old things
In the same way, repeating the same things over and over
For love to continue and be gradually different.
Beehives and ants have to be re-examined eternally
And the color of the day put in
Hundreds of times and varied from summer to winter
For it to get slowed down to the pace of an authentic
Saraband and huddle there, alive and resting.
Only then can the chronic inattention
Of our lives drape itself around us, conciliatory
And with one eye on those long tan plush shadows
That speak so deeply into our unprepared knowledge
Of ourselves, the talking engines of our day.
John Ashbery