Liebe Blog-Besucher/innen,

Dear visitors of my blog,


herzlich willkommen in meinem Blog! Welcome to my blog!

Like I have told you guys, I had to undergo another upper spine-surgery on Friday 3rd of July after my stupid fall the week before. 

I knew this would be much more challenging than the 1st surgery had been ... . Both implants had to be taken out and be substituted by metal cages, plates and bone-substitutes. My vertebral body had to be restored as well.


I still have problems talking/singing/swallowing/breathing ... will need another check-up on this next week. It definitely sucks!

Meanwhile I work on my new album "Sounds from Somewhere" which I hope to complete before I have to go to Rehab. I am in the process of rearranging and remixing some of the key-based compositions. And there will be some new stuff, of course. Right now I am working on a "Requiem for the Element of Water" with Vocoder/Synths, (real) Kalimba/Sansula and some spoken words in Kiswahili, the latter being another of my favourite languages ... 


It would be great, if you guys could support my compositions and survival with a donation!

More than ever I do not know how to pay my upcoming bills, as due to Corona and my spine-surgeries I was/am not able to perform live-music, -poetry and -rituals nor give readings ... but I do have a lot of additional medical bills to deal with. Therefore I'd be grateful if you could support my album-production and survival! 

Please send your donation via or via the button below:


Thank you!


Photo © Ann-Uta Beißwenger, 25th of July 2020


Please support my work ... stream my music ... on ...:
iTunesSpotifyApple MusicTidalAmazon ... 
Click here to find all links together, including some previews ... .




Lyrical: Weg oder weg?

Blog-Wise >>


Weg oder weg?


Ein Hauch von birkenblättriger Ignoranz

versüßt das bittere Abendrot

in der kalten Windigkeit

einer versch(r)obenen Zeit.


Der Tau eines verblichenen Trostes

schleicht sich durch’s Geäst.

Ich sehe dich, wie du zu mir



Der Duft schwarzer Federn

und weißen Fells

singt einen Vers,

fliegt gen Himmel.


Trunken vom Moment der Ekstase

die alles entrollt

inmitten des eisigen Feuers

der trauten Einsamkeit.


Schwebend – tanzend

Hände reichend.

Dich entführend

ins Zauberland.



© Ann-Uta Beißwenger 2016




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