Mother Money Manifestation
A sermon on writing | The Muse Letter No. 162
I write these words on a piece of paper not to forget:
Mother Money Manifestation.
Like a 19th century séance, hands flat on the table, a tense air around me: what to write? what to write?
It’s a channelling. Like anything in life, if it is not given freely, it is not worth taking. There is no settling in writing. At least not for me.
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I don’t want to write about my mother, I keep beginning, but what I actually mean is that I don't want to write about myself: where it gets dark, where it hurts, where blurriness enmeshed. How to write about a blind spot?
How to write about the things we cannot see?
“Nobody knows what's wrong with themselves, and everyone else can see it right away.”1
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“What have you learned while writing this book?”, someone asked me a couple of weeks ago at my reading in Berlin and it felt like a homecoming, like someone cutting through the midst to the heart of this story, someone asked the question that in itself is the answer.
Everything, I wanted to answer. I am…