Wish Werner Herzog would come by the studio and narrate our work the way he talks about his films and art and the cosmos. In that soft, brutal, matter of fact German accent. Until then I’ll just periodically re-read the imaginary Herzog diary, below, to become more fluent in that Herzog postmortemese.
This morning Sarah said “Dear Diary: I am making a bag out of a trench coat. I find tissue in the pocket of the coat and think: someone has blown their nose in an alleyway. It was raining, so they wore this coat. It takes me three hours of work to realize the bag is quite pointless and, by extension, I am pointless. This does not worry me. A cat comes and sits on the unfinished bag. Nature is without sympathy, but yet I love it.”
The Occasional Diary Entries of German Director Werner Herzog
Friday November 24, 2006
Dear Diary: Calisthenics, shower, and breakfast. Then I water the garden because it is dry. After the water I put fertilizer into the soil. I feel the flowers growing stronger the more I talk to them. Accidentally with my trowel I kill a flower. The world is chaos. I am unsuccessful at crying.
Dear Diary: Today my car is stolen from the driveway. I am not surprised.
Dear Diary: Work all day, a short break, and then dinner. Routines please me because they put order into the day; without order, there is chaos and violence. But for dinner I make a cheese sandwich and I hate it. I want to spit on it and see what it does. But I eat it anyway. Everyone dies, but for now I must live.
Click below for the rest…