I was so looking forward to this: Gustav in concert. That Viennese girl that rocks the understanding of being an Austrian female. And then I saw what keeled me over last night. She is visibly pregnant. Now, that is something nice to see. Normally. One would think. She occupies the stage, opens her mouth and starts to do her thing. Rebellious music, intelligently hidden amongst intellectual sounds. Sharp cynicism in her lyrics, clouded over by the sweetest vocal expression a woman can produce. Dancing away, as her creations flip her into performance mode. Her bodily situation a screaming contrast to almost everything she stands for. In my mind only, maybe. But nevertheless. Come track three, I start to lose it all together. To this moment, I couldn’t tell you, what it was. I cried uncontrollably for the duration of the concert, most of the way home and almost into my sleep. Ok, I could give you some factual reasons for my – to put it mildly – weird reaction. But I think it more helpful for myself to describe what I do recall from all that inner havoc I went through one by one: portentousness, enragement, outrage, speechlessness, voicelessness, emptiness. Then came the envy. And in the end the sorrow. Now, I know, this is a somewhat odd litany tonight and I better had just quote Esau75’s comment on my early morning entry : “Aaaaaahhhh!!!! I saw her on Friday in Jena and she got me, too! That pregnant beast…” Which also sums up very nicely what I had witnessed. But I also want to mention one gesture that had the power to console me last night. A song played to me, stilling my sobs, allowing me to fall asleep. Thank you, my love.
Greta Keller, Wenn ich mir was wünschen dürfte
floatsome 