Dear friends,
(I still have to set up the newsletter program that will address you individually—everything is in flux…),
Here’s the new newsletter! I was thrilled that you all enjoyed the first one so much. Thanks for all the positive feedback, even though—or perhaps because—the topics weren’t all easy.
(Travel) Dreams: Always Georgia
When asked about your big (travel) dreams, the answer you often gave was “Georgia,” the tiny Caucasian country. I feel the same. The landscapes must be magnificent, the people unique, the food delicious.
Also, I have a feeling I should get my butt there while it’s still possible—Putin will be there at some point. Is this a kind of preventative disaster tourism? Voyeurism on the edge of a foreign abyss from which we can travel back to the safety of our homeland?
Maybe it’s part of it. Above all, I agree with Ted Simon, motorcycle legend and wonderful human being: we (motorcycle) travelers are also ambassadors and reporters:
Individual explorers have a great role to play in understanding what is going on in the world and communicating their observations. These personal observations, to my mind, are at least as useful as any media reporting that’s done these days.
Happy birthday to me!
I’m turning 50 these days—insane. Nobody gets that old, do they? Ah, the innocent thoughts of those under 30…
Some people don’t celebrate their birthdays; some don’t even want to receive birthday greetings. Of course, everyone has their own opinion—for me, I think my birthdays are great. They allow me to pause and reflect on what I’ve accomplished, experienced, and survived. I’m still here.
And I’m not just 50, I also have 50 (okay, 49), as the French say. All these years are mine. I’ve had so much to enjoy, so much to draw from, so much to be proud of. Sure, some of it was awful—but I own that, too. I’ve grown from it and made something of it. If that’s not a reason to celebrate… So: happy birthday to me!
Projects
What about something to listen to?
I’m currently considering offering my books as audiobooks—I’ve had enquiries about it from time to time. When I read that they’re the fastest-growing segment of the book market in the US, it’s naturally really interesting.
There are various options:
-
- Read it myself. Good: inexpensive. Bad: it takes time. I’m not a trained narrator, and bad audiobook narrators are terrible.
- Have someone read it for me. Good: a professional at work. Bad: it takes time and is expensive.
- Use an AI voice. Good: cheap and fast. Bad: It’s just an AI voice.
- Working with a voice clone. I provide a good sample of my voice, from which the audiobook is then generated. Good: It would be my voice, it would be quick, and in some cases, the production would even be handled.
Reading this, it all points towards option 4, doesn’t it?
What do you think? Would you mind if an AI read to you?
The Rest of Life
About hoping and waiting—and what spirals have to do with it
Besides preparing for the move—my apartment is getting emptier by the day—my foster dog Marta naturally takes up a large part of my days.
She’s been with me since September 7th—some of you have followed her progress on Facebook. From being a completely terrified dog I literally couldn’t touch for weeks, who didn’t want to explore the world outside my apartment, she has developed into a curious (albeit still cautious) young lady who sniffs the world around her and even enjoys a massage now and then.
While I held her in my arms for what felt like an eternity in the weeks in between (because the grass beneath her feet frightened her), or a little later stood beside her for just as long because the grass was okay now, but she still lacked the courage to take her own steps, I thought a lot about waiting and hoping.
I didn’t want to force Marta (or entice her with treats) into progress she wasn’t ready for—I could only hope that she would grow into her next step, internally and invisibly to me.
Waiting is the little sister of hoping—here you know something will happen. The key is to make waiting as elegant as possible. If you hope for something, there’s no guarantee it will happen. If you’re unlucky, you won’t even see any intermediate steps.
That’s how it was with Marta—I could only hope. Especially rewarding is that my approach was correct, since I have no formal training in dealing with dogs.
“We’re going around in circles,” I often thought as I carried her into the house after she’d just stood there shivering in the greenery. Although even the circle would have been progress…
What helped me was the thought (not mine, but still good 😉 ) that something that looks like a circle can actually turn out to be a spiral. You just have to change your perspective, and you suddenly realize that a development is taking place, round by round.
And indeed, now Madame also walks in circles—for example, when she circles her dog friend Picasso.
Tomorrow I’m meeting someone interested in adopting Marta—I hope he proves himself worthy of her.
I’m looking forward to your feedback—and wish you wonderful autumn days 🙂
Eva
