Part 3

The escape

Like every night I stood up and went to the bathroom. I let cold water run all over my hands, before I sloshed it into my face. The chill of the water promised seconds of alleviation. I bent myself slightly over, braced myself with both hands at the sink and let the water drip off my face into the sink. I always used this instant, to find the courage to look into the mirror – to look into these empty eyes of a soulless body.

I see my face and don’t know who it belongs to. In former times there used to be an enthusiastic spark gleaming in my eyes, nothing was impossible, everything was reachable. A human being powered by passion can gain everything. That was my credo. But now, not even one single spark of passion or enthusiasm is leftover, only the pure emptiness. The loneliness of the monotony is banishing my soul more and more. Day after day I feel that there is a little part dying of me.

However, the monotone rhythm of everyday life is the only thing that keeps me functioning. Getting up, reading the paper, having a little breakfast, getting on my way to the gallery, making coffee, letting the first visitors in, having some customer pitches, spending lunch hour in the park, having another few conversations with some artists, closing the gallery, going home, having a little dinner, if I don’t forget watching a movie or reading a book, going to bed……

Every day the same procedure, the monotony is stifling on one hand but my only safety on the other hand, my only landmark. Not think just function is my new credo. The luxury of thinking and dreaming I allow myself just during lunch hour in the park. There I am usually sitting on a bench, not far from a playground and dream of how it would be, when my own children were playing there. How they would slide the chute or how they would sway or just simply play with the sand. And I would be sitting here on the bench and take care of them. And then you would hear the iceman and they would totally excited run square to me and shout: “Mommy, mommy…we want to have ice-cream! Please, mommy!” I would smile at them and give them loose change and follow their little hasty steps to the iceman.