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There are a few things that stick out from my childhood, my dog “Shatzi”, my father coming home in his battle dress uniform [B.D.U’s] after flight training, my basement from 116 Conestoga Rd, Chuck E. Cheese when I was 7, a yellow “Transformer” Beatle car I lost, the Summer Heat and time spent with my “Oma”.
My “Oma” was a little German lady, arrived to America in 1940 and retired from her public teaching position in time to help raise my sister and myself. The background is important only for the feeling of loss and emptiness I have when certain memories trigger emotions, some good and some bad.
In my Oma’s house, there was a picture hanging in her dining room of The Bamberg Horseman auf Deutsch ‘Der Bamberger Reiter.’ This image was instilled in my head from as long as I have memories as it was not only above the liquor cabinet which was always frequented during parties and family gatherings, again a tangent but this is a reflection.
I would not know how much this picture meant to me until my Oma passed away in September 2003. I learned a lot from my Oma, we travelled together, she taught me how to count in German before I learned to in English. She calmed me when my father was in a foul mood, she lived through Nazi Germany, lost all but her brother to the holocaust, my father lived through Vietnam as a helicopter pilot and when he watched “Platoon” it was my “Opa’s” bed I slept in. My Oma taught me how to gamble, how to play cards, she saved me countless times in Germany from angry German’s yelling about me “doing this or that.” There is a saying; I do not know the origin “Mother is god in the eyes of a child.” For me my Oma was said ‘idol.’
The reflection of my Oma and Der Reiter is one and the same, when she died and the house was packed, cleaned and my sister moved in…my mother asked me what I wanted from the house…it was too late my sister already claimed the picture hanging above the liquor cabinet. I am not one to start family drama, especially after a death, the family is small to begin with and my idiosyncrasies have been known not to aide recovery. Years later I would bring up how I wanted the picture and one day my mother showed up with it, packed in her luggage. I guess my sister wasn’t going to miss it?
Der Bamberger Reiter has been slotted to be one of my tattoos, envisioned to take up my entire back, waist to neck, shoulder to shoulder. The ‘Reiter’ is interesting for a few reasons. It was sculpted by an unknown/anonymous person and no one is 100% sure who the ‘Reiter’ actually is, there are some educated guesses, Saint Henry II or maybe his brother-in-law Stephen I of Hungary. This anonymity in both artist and sculpture fascinates me as it acts as a conduit of past, present and future memories.