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My windland

 -Windland –



I live in a landscape that holds the material of which it is said that mankind was created from it. The people in my area have lived from and with this material for centuries, it has shaped their daily lives and has become part of their culture. The material I mean is named loam or, as we commonly call it nowadays, clay. The earth in this landscape still holds this valuable resource. 



Here is the stuff that pots are made of ...


 ... hidden beneath one hand of soil.



The potting culture however which made a living for many people and even for entire villages in the old days has irretrievably perished. I live at the bottom of the Windland (Westerwald); a landscape which is commonly referred to as poor and meagre (mainly relating to the people who used to live here). The area however, hardly touched by tourism, is livable and lovable. The spirit of the plain ceramic which originated here, now almost forgotten, rests in the display cases of a few collectors.

A cup from which nobody drinks, a bowl from which no soup is ladled, is not pervaded by the things which add so much to the “instantaneous life”. Only use fills and pervades such ceramic with life. It was only through a long spiritual detour, if there is something like that (studies of Japanese philosophy, Japanese ceramic and art as a hobby, judo and last but not least bonsai), that I started to understand that everything which I had longingly and admiringly searched for in Japanese culture, has the same meaning in the landscape and in the people immediately around me. ZEN, meaning instantaneous life, as well as ceramics, bonsai etc. can only persist in the fresh and unencumbered “here and now”. Today for me tradition and present, living in keeping  and developing, is a symbiosis of Eastern and Western elements which makes life worthwhile HERE and NOW.




 … IMPRESSIONS … from the Windland  (Westerwald)

The Windland is not a region with giant ragged mountains and dark ravines that frighten the human soul. Hills and plains touch each other in a harmonic mixture. In graceful alternation there are many hundreds of hills, mounds and lakes lying in a dense coat of forests. The climate is rather rough and bracing. The winter is long and frosts can occur until late spring, often up to the end of May.



In summer the spacious meadows and fields with dominating shelter trees lie in bright sunlight. The air is excellent, clear and healthy. The slopes of the “Hauberge” are blue with blueberries in early summer. It is lovely to walk here in the silent stroking breeze of a bright summer day. Mystic places invite to meditation, soul and spirit come to rest.




Here the soul is released.



Shelter trees have been offering cattle refuge for decades.



A small village, hills and plains touch each other in harmony.






An enchanted place with a well in the middle of the woods.




A bewitched place in the mist.  





Peter Krebs


Photographs by: Hans Seehak and Peter Krebs.


Translation by Heike van Gunst


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