Maybe it was my name that took part in making me the one I am, my name and the place where I come from. Christine Blum (,Flowers'), from the Lenzenberg (,Spring Hill') at the southern slope of the Kaiserstuhl - somehow it sounds like a fairy tale of spring and summer. But it was autumn I always liked best: the time when the days get cooler, the time of the grape-gathering, when my home village Ihringen seemed somehow original and homely, with a touch of a long-ago past or a dream.
I also always liked music, and I am grateful for my parents allowing me to have a try at everything I was interested in - recorder, piano and guitar lessons, the school choir, a jazzband, then even singing lessons. And when I, being thirteen, wrote my first song (which I would never ever show someone today, no!), this was also part of that wondrous, enchanted time of tales and music.
Only shortly before the Abitur I came to know the big, wonderful ,story' that has been with me ever since: fantasy roleplaying games. From these days dates my first presentable song, Lucky Those, as well as the nickname Crystal - actually rather ,Christel', invented by my brothers!
Maybe because I had heard that dreams have little hope to come true, I began studying medicine in the town with the tale-telling name Giessen (a word that means also ,to pour with rain'). But how strange, it was this place where the dreams became more tangible - by way of incredibly good friendships, night-long roleplaying and intense conversations ... and through the revelation that there was a word for the things my songs express: filk.
Slowly I realized that stories and human dreams are what really concerns me, and I discarded medicine and took on literature. I visited places where dreams lie hidden: France, Ireland, Russia, Spain. All this has mingled with the grape gathering, the past and, maybe, also with my music.
Even today stories make up the major part of my life - I work as a freelance literary translator in Karlsruhe, City of Law, between the dreamy Kraichgau and the brooding Black Forest. Together with my best friends, Sandra and Volker and their Little Jon, I journey to foreign lands and unknown places or hunt for geocaches, and my cat Eleftheria is responsible for the occasional excitement at home. And although often my music is in danger of being drowned by my work, it is never completely suppressed, and the tale of Summer & Fall continues on - we'll see where it leads ...
The following text has been written by Juliane Honisch, fellow filker, poet and friend. Showing it here means a tribute to her as well.
Autumn leaves turn the shade of her hair, a bright fire. She is a small and dainty flame, focused, warming the world with incandescent creativity. Once, she would have been a healer, but she prefers words and songs, dealing them out like a theriac. She wears the old garments of ages gone by as if they proved her irresolvable connection to the time of legends. She is an integral part of those legends, and for all she does in this reality like translating Russian novels she always seems to be deeply rooted in that other place. There be dragons but we like dragons. And if you sail on beyond the rim and past the sirens calling, you will find her and her music.
You wish to depict her with the ancient Greek gods cornucopia. Among the autumnal fruit and flowers streaming from this source of plenty are instruments, guitar, flute, saxophone, clarinet, mandolin, metallophone, e-bass and probably even more that just linger to still come out quite unexpectedly some day. One might think of double sided harps, foot-played cymbals, mind-strummed psalteries. Those too, she will undoubtedly be able to play probably without much practising for she is almost annoyingly versatile. All you have to do is sit back and listen in wonder.
Words are her treasure. She has collected them as other people might collect gold and riches. A loot of expressions and expressiveness. One language is not nearly enough. She writes her poems and songs in German and English, in Russian and French, aligning the colour of their sound with the mood she wishes to paint on her harvest canvas. Almost you can imagine her on her September Island where a treasure chest of lyrics is hidden for the music-lovers, the freebooters on the ocean of legends. The journey is exciting, never boring.
|Железный престол||Iron Throne|
|Petit Charlot / He Longed For The Sea|
|Wie ein Räuber||"The Highwayman" by Talis Kimberley|