Stephan and Dietlinde
Introduction
The subject of "Dietlinde and Stephan" is a furthering of the subject "swine"; grounded upon the book "A Manifesto for Animals" by Corinne Peluchon - a brief and plain account of the necessity for man to position himself at a distanced remove from the keeping of animals in mass. C.P. grounds her thesis along the philosophical history from Socrates unto this day.
Several cycles of pictures of mine, arisen under the influence of these thoughts as foundation: the beholding of animals from another perspective.
In the matter of "Stephan and Dietlinde," it is the change of climate that is the engine of the meeting of the two - for Stephan's island is swallowed by the rising of the seas. The tale might look somewhat as follows, told in brief points; herewith an offering to set the kindly disposed beholder aright in the matter of this wondrous occurrence.
Thus it may have come to pass
(Recognition) Not so very long ago had Detlef, Robert, Lucie, Clara, Dietlinde - all of them model swine of the land - observed that more and more of their larger companions vanished never to return. This did not sit well with them; they laid plans for the escape.
(Propitious Circumstance) As though their pleas had been heard, a thundering tempest shook trees and buildings in this village with such force that the timbers and the wall of the building gave way and the door opened outward, onto the little-travelled village road. Several of the comrades seized upon the opportunity and stepped out upon the way - away from this place - though without the old and wise, who had been as the knowing grandparents of old.
Once outside, the storm raged mightily; the rain was strange to them, and they scattered to all corners.
(Own Agency) Under cover of darkness the animals ran for their lives, they ran without heed for one another, in a feeling compounded of fear, courage, joy and new sensations: rain upon the skin, the smell of wet, warm, steaming earth, the rustling, rushing and raging of the trees in the wind, the alternately hard, soft and wet ground beneath their trotters. Thus they ran long into the morn. When the sun rose, Dietlinde lay herself down alone into a hollow and fell straightway to sleep.
(Intuition, Former Life, Karma) She dreamt of a way: long it was to be, and pointing over a mountain range, leading through cold and white landscape unto a harbour town. Naturally she knew not its name - she had, after all, attended no school - wherefore her dreams were reason enough to serve as map and as motivation.
Thus she walked by night and slept by day; nourishment was plentiful along the way. Until one day she espied in a newspaper stand a picture bearing a stable building much resembling the home stall and animals fleeing in panic every which way.
(Acting with Context) After mature deliberation she observed in the early hours of morning how buckets of paint were unloaded from a lorry before a bakery. Long story short: Dietlinde bathed herself in blue, for the purposes of obscuring her origins.
"Blue swine one does not eat," thought she - for had she not remarked in many a butcher's shop in the villages along the way scenes of unutterable horror. And so henceforth Dietlinde went about clad in a blue raiment.
(Outcome, Consequences of Action) Over the weeks of wandering she changed; she grew light, her form altered, and hair grew upon her all over, which kept well against cold and wind. She was now slender and tall of stature. It went well with her. Only she missed her companions. Heedless of this she walked on and on, up to and over the mountain range; the paths went ever upward, the trees dwindled, the air was different - thinner - the heart knocked with the effort, the way of stone like the road, only buckled and rough.
At some point it went no longer upward; suddenly and unawares she stood upon a peak, fixed in the stone, and gazed straight into the clouds - yea, even upon them. The sun shone golden-bright, and as far as her gaze reached she saw only mountain tops, valleys and the wide land, here and there a little brook falling almost headlong into the valley, and here and there a lake.
As in her dream.
Dietlinde lying in the mountains upon a tree trunk in the sun beneath a pine - a soft humming of summer wind about her - a thought, drifting vast as the universe, sent she forth light and love to her friends in the flat Münsterland building. A strange mood was upon her; this discrepancy is hard to bear.
Downward into the vale, further southward, through river landscapes past villages and towns. Grown great and strong through this journey, the face of the land now changed wholly for her eyes. She found herself in a city: many horseless carriages, people, houses and stinking air. There was also the smell of sea upon it. So sayeth the authoress: Dietlinde herself smelled salty air and horseless carriages without wheels that swam upon the water with great rags bound to poles (sailing vessels) - she saw that this way was at its end. Sitting at a quay wall, she looked out upon a glittering, sparkling water that would not cease, reaching unto the sun and beyond. A moon-mirror tale. Weary, she fell asleep and dreamt of a sun-coloured figure in the most beautiful music.
Ever regarding her blue skin, beneath which her body alters with vigour, she trots the next morning - in the cool freshness of mist and dew, mossy at the feet - further down the way through wild blueberry heaths southward, hearkening to an inner voice.
Whilst at the same time in the world of the oceans, far distant from the woodland glade, it came to pass that a great wave, ever greater waxing and rearing itself up, swallowed an island whole with all that was upon it; the gecko family it hath scattered, the harbour and the boats it hath rent asunder.
What proved the salvation of Stephan the gecko was this: that it repurposed a plank into a raft - sheltered from the sun by a small parasol of ice - and rested thus for many days, held in canvas, hitched to a cruise ship. A morsel of apple here, an orange there, now and then a slice of banana. Thus Stephan came through tolerably well.
One day the air changed; he dreamt of a blue colour - azul, azul, azul - it was altogether enchanting. Strengthened by the morning's fruited repast - it was melon today, watermelon - there sprouted in him an unbridled lust for life; he stirred and stretched his arms and legs, worked his handsome feet through and stood himself upon his wooden plank as though it were a surfboard. Stephan looked into the wind in one direction. Clouds, water and sun as far as the eye could reach - yet Stephan saw something other. Or better: he felt something in his breast like a flower opening, a fragrance rarely fair.
Great white birds sailed past the railing-window of the ship, angled outward, and laughed, laughed, laughed - up into the sun - and glided effortlessly fishing into the water.
Green trees, red and sand-coloured houses, many boats, walls and narrow lanes: Stephan espies upon the quay wall Dietlinde - and Dietlinde beholds Stephan …
The quay wall, the rope hanging down - Stephan climbed up onto the harbour wall and seats himself beside Dietlinde. They look into the sunrise.
Thus or thereabouts began the legendary tale of Stephan and Dietlinde. And when it is quite still upon the roads and meadows, one may hear them giggling and whispering.