Speech by Alexandra at her vernissage

Spoken on 11/20/2008 at Haus der Frauen

 

I am very pleased that we are getting together today on the occasion of my first exhibition. I don't want to name or greet anyone special, but say it with one sentence: I'm very happy that you're here today. I would like to start with a song, so I will briefly introduce the band, which not everyone knows: We have been singing rhythmic masses together about once a month for about 15 years at the family service in St. Johann Church. The first song is called: Let my light shine bright.

 

So today I have the opportunity to tell you a little bit about myself, and I'm taking this opportunity. On the one hand I would like to report on how I got into painting and on the other hand say a little bit about the way I paint and what painting means to me. The music will contribute its part in between. I won't talk too long because the pictures and text can actually speak for themselves.

 

My pictures, which are exhibited here today, were all created in the last two years and I'll tell you a little secret right away: There are no others from immediately earlier times either. Although you all know me and the knowledge of my illness is also present in this room, I want to mention it now because it belongs to me like everything else. I would like to remind you of the fairy tale Sleeping Beauty, where the 13th, the so-called evil fairy, is not invited to the celebration of the child's birth. But then of course she comes to the party and presents a bad curse as a “gift”. I thought to myself, my 13th fairy called Disease, it may seem malicious to many, that's how she completes the group of fairies and she really didn't deserve to be excluded from this day, which is so important for me. So I invited her too, I'll bring her into what's happening and now I'd like to tell you what an important role she plays in my life.

 

A good two years ago I fell ill with cancer, which meant a big turning point in my life so far. During this very difficult time for my family and myself, I started looking for a way to continue living; for a path that seemed coherent, feasible and worth living. In this search I was helped by those activities that have always attracted me: painting and writing. Despite all the suffering, the time I was ill also gave me the chance to live my life differently: to let go of the old and dare something new. My illness gave me the impetus to start painting and writing.

 

The search and the openness to what is to come have paid off for me. I have the feeling of being on the way - into the middle of life. Over time, I realized that I was following an inner drive with my paintings, or a call, as I like to call it. So then my pictures literally “tumbled along”. The painting itself was usually so easy that I often surprise myself. The organizational question was more difficult: When do I paint, so when do I have time for it? But since I have remained stubborn, above all towards myself, solutions have also been found for this.

 

Now an outsider is sure to ask: where does this call come from and who is calling? From a friend and companion comes the sentence that has constantly resonated in me for these two years and that I would like to express here because it is so important to me: We are inhabited by God. That's where the call comes from from within, from the heart. I may say something unusual now, but it corresponds to my deepest conviction: The path to God leads first through one's own soul and only then further. And the language of God is at first only a whisper and comes forth in dreams, in longing, in wishes and in hopes. And it keeps calling when you pay attention to it. This attention to myself is again thanks to the 13th fairy, my illness, which, as I said, is also invited today.

 

So I followed this call on a journey to myself, always with questions in my luggage, with enough provisions and accompanied by dear people. If someone goes on a journey, he can tell something, said Matthias Claudius. I encountered all sorts of things on my journey, which now speaks from my pictures. For example, a Red Fish swimming against the current and a creature calles Ruhmbold meditating in the middle of the landscape. I was at home and at the sea, was accompanied by angels and met elephants - all of them waiting out there in the aisle can later tell you their sometimes somewhat strange stories.

But the call to courageously delve into one's own story, into one's own soul, can be done much better with a song than with words. This song is called Down to the river to pray. This old American song whispers in a few words: “Let's go down to the river and dip into the soul stream to pray. Let's connect with God deep down there. Come on, sisters, brothers, fathers and mothers, let's go down.

I would like to say something about the paintings, or rather the style of my paintings. I have noticed that some viewers are often alienated by the way I paint. The predicate childish then hovers in the air and I have recently decided not to take this as an insult, but rather as the highest praise. The quote from Pablo Picasso: It took me a lifetime to paint like a child. It seems to me that I can understand what Picasso means by that: My children have been great teachers for me for many years paint like a child. Namely with this dedication of a child at work, this impartiality, this desire, this love of creating, this matter of course because there is nothing more important at the moment, this way of seeing and representing the world, and ultimately this connection to God and to himself. And if all of this speaks from my pictures, then this is the highest praise for me and I am more than satisfied with it. I owe more than that to my children. They inspire me. I copied many a motif from them and they were never jealous of it. That means they've never threatened me with copyright until now.

 

Regarding my texts, I would like to say that when I was writing the texts for the pictures, I only noticed towards the end that the picture and the word now form a whole for me. As if two parts would come together. It was a feeling for me as if heaven and earth were touching. Ultimately, this made me very satisfied with my work. That's why I'm showing my work here today - it's going to go wrong.

The next song is also about the fact that heaven and earth touch each other and therefore it is the right song for this evening. In love, in trust, in forgiveness, heaven and earth touch .

But I'm not walking this path alone. And now the time has come for me to tell you that I am very grateful for your companionship, for your friendship, for the multiple help, for your existence. On the one hand, I mean your going along on mine, or one could just as well say on our way; On the other hand, I would also like to thank everyone who made it possible for me and helped me to celebrate this evening in this form.

I would now like to read a poem of mine, it can be found outside next to the picture with the title: Life. It is told of a pine tree bent by the wind that grows near the sea.

 

life is today

today is life

summer is given to me

I am connected to the earth

it warms me when I'm cold.

My needles and fruit

I'll give her again.

The wind and the weather

my tribe bends boldly,

but my crown that flies

towards the sky.

At the dance of my needles

I look out at the sea.

it whispers to me

it encourages me a lot:

life is today

today is life

the summer is given to you

 

Before we can devote ourselves to the buffet here in the parish hall, which the children in particular are already waiting for, I would like to say a few things. The images and texts that can be viewed in the tour, i.e. on the left and right of the building, are not for sale. Johannes, Peter and I, however, we printed maps and made a little book that contains all the pictures and texts from this exhibition. These items are available for purchase while supplies last. But now I've finished talking and my song of thanks comes to you and it says: "Don't walk the path alone"