story, written on ice


My story and yours
still separate, frozen
are starting to melt:
Letters flow away,
sentences gather in puddles…

Our story, one slow current,
trickles into new patterns,
seeps into the ground or evaporates
save for a bit of dust,
and falls down as rain, somewhere.

story, written on ice. photography. Ines Seidel
For the series of photographs “story, written on ice” I wrote on a bloc of ice with Indian ink. I chose two different fragments of German text, one from a family saga by John von Düffel, whose writing usually has to do with water. The other line is from a poem which is better known as the song “The miller’s joy is wandering”. Here are the translations:

Impossible to say, how often I thought of these rivers, how often I dreamt of them, how many nights I was drawn to them, when I was passing through sleeping towns, dry, riverless towns, on the search for water, on the search for the movement of water,(…). My translation from: John von Düffel “Vom Wasser” (On water).

The water teaches us to move, the water. From: Wilhelm Müller “Wandering”
story, written on ice. photography. Ines Seidel
story, written on ice. photography. Ines Seidell

walls from words

walls from words and stories. Ines Seidel wire houses, with or without a concrete base. Wrapped in spontaneous text written on tea bags, sealed with wax.

(house 1, in the picture above the second house from right, translated from German).

walls from words and windows from soft words and doors from stories and walls from words and windows from soft words and roofs from half sentences and stairs from laughter only the light is simply here. And you are here. I am here.

In between walls from words, windows from soft words, doors from stories and unspoken cellar rooms and you are here with me. We talk walls to each other.

In between light falls through walls from words and roofs from half sentences and stairs from laughter, windows from soft, thin words, doors from stories. You hear here. Here.

And roofs from half sentences and walls from words and everything can fall apart if we don’t catch a new word, but light is simply here. And you are here and I am here and doors from stories, if you believe them. Stairs from laughter, cellar rooms from unspoken words. If you believe them. If you believe words, you are here with me.

walls from words and stories.. Ines Seidel

(house 4, the smallest one, with English words)

Living inside stories, written on the walls oft he world that has your name on it. Telling you where your limits are. Spelling your name.

Living inside stories. Telling you: You are here. The limits of your name echo from the walls. The story about limits.

Living inside stories written on the walls of your name. If you believe in limits. If you believe in stories, how much room does your name need. If you believe.

Living inside stories, as if they were your skin.

walls from words and stories.. Ines Seidel

ice cold stories

meeting of two cold stories - Ines Seidel

Your frosty smile –
maybe the tip of an iceberg that is melting.
it can only be cool, the invitation
to follow the trace of your mammoth.

stories of the mammoth - Ines Seidel
After I have been conserving stories in wax I naturally moved to ice. Frozen water immediately starts melting at room temperature – that fits very well to the stories that are also constantly changing their state. Keeping memories frozen must cost a lot of energy!
book in ice - Ines Seidel
You can find more pictures of ice cold stories in this flickr-set.
ice cold story by Ines Seidel

The astonished book

The astonished book - detail
The book
Got older
And into the cellar
Nine years of hope
Motionless, in yellow
End abruptly with a yearning
for simplification:
To rip out pages
Separately, in sections
Wordwise, folding the cocoon
Nine months or hours
Later, with the first sun ray
Opens slowly
The binding und releases
A tender and still unguarded
Little letter
The astonished book - Ines Seidel
The poem from March 2013 led to the astonished book which had a different name before its transformation.