A poem by Paul Celan: MIT WECHSELNDEM SCHLÜSSEL Mit wechselndem Schlüssel schließt du das Haus auf, darin der Schnee des Verschwiegenen treibt. Je nach dem Blut, das dir quillt aus Aug oder Mund oder Ohr, wechselt …
The oddest thing on packed on my bike is my fiddle. There is no doubt about it.I brought it along with the vision of being a better fiddler and an …
It only seems that way, rocketing down the two-lane highway into Liezen with Julius. Julius is Pam's Austrian husband. I'd only seen Julius when he visits Seattle in the summer. He …
Actually, unfortunately there are. They are the Austrian Alps.Currently, I am smack dab in the middle of Austria enjoying a few days rest and real towels at Julius' house. He …
