Dear Chopsy,

Take a look at this guy in the rear-view mirror. I mean he's not in the mirror, but he is in my perception of what this mirror is. The mirror to me is this guy, but not to you. But take a look at him. Don't turn around, he'll know that you're watching. Now that you look at him in the mirror, my mirror is your mirror. It is the mirror in which you can see this guy, if you are looking at him all but directly. A visual field in front of you that includes something that is not in front of you is a protracted form of reality, subjective, and therefore a protracted form of yourself. Of oneself. And this is something I can share with you. Among other entoptic phenomena, the most overlooked may be purely eye contact. This I attribute to the subtle intensity of the gesture; a concept easily misunderstood and underestimated. We are not talking about looking back on things.

Sincerely,
Psycho

P.
S.

I'm starting to see things in the noise of things that are not the things themselves.

Sunrise Villa: PE in the DR

I realize that having a blog is a responsibility, to take care of a living, breathing organism that is social relation. I don't very much dictate my life to those around me, or reiterate it to myself, and I can only pardon the gaps in my story. I award only moments, momentous or not. But what else can an instance be? I cannot capture these things with my camera, but perhaps with words I can convey a sense of where I have been, and where I have come, without much lengthy extrapolation. Experience takes time to assimilate, and I cannot be pressured to dictate. Perhaps all you will come to understand out of reading someone's blog is that they have been sitting down to contemplate the words to translate a life experience, or to create one.

In any case, I am not responsible with my relations. Whatsoever. Ironically, it is for that reason that I find myself out of Europe and in the Caribbean.

I bounce around the world, airplanes, trains, buses, bikes, slippers, whatever gets me around. How can I keep up with all of this? In the past month I have gone from Berlin to Holland (Utrecht, Amsterdam, Delft, Rotterdam) to the bottom of my glass and the inside of my head, back to old New Jersey, found some New Hope in renewed friendships, and here I am in the Dominican Republic, three and a half hours from home, with even less of an idea of what home is to me anymore. A perfect Sunrise Villa directly on the clear ocean, my family and I swimming in swarms of lizards, sea urchins, and gin and tonics. It would be hard to convey the perfection of this place. The hot sticky air is perfect. The spiny urchins like so many sea mines threatening to explode upon contact, thrilling all the same. Yesterday I swam with a remora fish as I wondered if I should take its presence as an indication that sharks were nearby, and if so because of the fresh wound in my side from scraping the ancient corals that make up most of the coastline. I love it. And last night, sheltering myself under coconut trees on the beach as the bonfire fought bravely against the rain, and local musicians cowered in a cave in the name of Merengue. Snorkeling today I saw cuttlefish, a spotted eel, and a whispy sea star among other wonders in the beautiful setting of this island. I've been buffing up my chess game and my tan, trying new fruits and Dominican cuisine, relishing in the languor and strains of life, all positively ecstatically elastic.

And modernity has come down to playing beach resort videogames at a real beach resort. Somehow fitting, somehow mismatched, somehow disturbing, though it brings comfort to some. We are all content with fantasy. We all have space to be filled, collections to amass. I'm getting off the internet now.

Sempervivum

unrelated irony, or, unironed relations

I found myself at a loss of the word 'acronym' moments ago, yet I am now set to graduate from my university (of the Rutgers New Brunswick variety). Transcripts are in, I'm calling myself a winner.

Now, a BA means BS to me, and those aren't acronyms anyway. And the omniscient spellchecker is contradicting my contractions, so screw it. My brain-loss can probably be attributed to the past five days I spent at Fusion Festival, in Lärz, Germany. It was a total adventure into partyland; magical forests, crazy structural installations, glowing things and people of all kinds (but mostly of the cool variety) infiltrating the music, non-stop all hours funshow.

Well, it's all still sinking in and I'll be wishing I had more pictures, but check out FLICKRFUSION2009. It's not as if I could showcase how awesome my time was. Best of all, I must say, was the incredible surprising good fortune I had to get a chance to see Ratatat perform, so I may as well have died happy and been reborn ecstatic as I left that sweaty room. And I did, and I was, and I stayed up and partied all through the night, into the light, unlike the advice from Poltergeist.

The graduation thing is taking time to sink in, too. I won't have a diploma until October, and not even a ceremony (I don't want any ritual observances from Rutgers, please, God). I'm just looking forward to celebrating with my friends who went through it with me, and those who must yet persist in their educations, and for those whose life is education, as we all live and learn through anything if we persist (and insist, and desist [from intravenous drugs, please]). And Rutgers taught me shit that a non-flying ape could have thrown at me. It hasn't made me a man or a mind. I am both of those anyway. And so, we make this work.

~electro sizzles

P.S. I wanna give a shout out to Michael Jackson, although he won't hear it.

The Dirtiest Night In The City

Check out the digital version I posted a few entries ago, and compare to the work I made today. FINALLY, after sitting on this for so long, I set it down for good, on wood. The background is made of cigarette carton foils.

Celestial Bodies

I made this painting as Friday's night stretched long into Saturday. I got some samples of curved wooden postcards from a design gallery. The circles are a printed pattern, and I did the rest.

I write, last night at Cross-Continental Spirit, with Ray Blues on his sax:

"Like the ebb and flow of a river, free, pure music finds cycles and streams, runs up against obstacles and around them, too, and swirls along its course. An endless cartography of terrain to cover. As each drop of water contributes to the whole of the river, so do the notes of a session get caught up in progression. A quick view of the tumultuousness created in a moment, in every moment of living. Sounds and liquids mix up the colors of your reflection and sHape you as something infinitely greater than that which you know you are."

I'm reading a book on the biography of "the New Music" of the 60s and 70s, influences of John Coltrane and Ornette Coleman and the like. As serious as your life, by Valerie Wilmer.

----------------
OTHER NEWS!! NEW NEWS!! ONE NEW TWO NEWS!!
Check out a slideshow of my project ||Pu|Blic|| on Flickr.
Do it to it!

Outer Frills

I offer myself a toast, a post, some toast for breakfast? I ate breakfast already. Müsli and joghurt everyday. I'm trying to save a bit of spending money for when Deva comes, only three more days, and I'm hella excited to blow my load on her. That was contextually appropriate, so I had to say it. I recently moved into an apartment in Kreuzberg, which is a much more happening neighborhood than Schöneberg, while remaining closeby for bike rides. Since the last post my former bike was stolen and I've inherited the most ridiculous set of wheels. I look ridiculous on this thing, and it moves so slowly, but I'm not so worried about accidents, at least. I'm finally healing from my spillage, and settling into new context feels good. The flat is well-accommodated and I have nice roommates, too, while most of my friends have left for America or travels elsewhere. Befriending Berliners, I feel more welcome in the city, I learn more about what the place really is, and maybe I find how I fit here. I can't stay forever, and I find it an interesting notion of what might someday really hold me down somewhere. I am still exploring life, the world, life in the world, and the world as it relates to life.

I gave a presentation the first of the month of my project on public space in Berlin. I didn't have a lot of time to develop a thorough project, so it was more of an exploration and an evolution at the same time, of my approach to photography and my experience of the city. I was offered very constructive comments on the presentation, material, and ideas, and I want to put together a portfolio of the work accordingly. It by no means embodies a completed investigation, but I am unsure that I will continue making work in the same vein during the rest of my stay here. Initially coming to Berlin into Lexia's program, I had expected a whole semester of focused work on a single project. It turned out to be only the last month of studies devoted to an independent project and a relationship with an advisor. I am very grateful for the experiences I've had, all the places I have been, and the many notions or people that may have inspired me.

If man is conscious of every step he takes, how will he ever learn to run, to feel the wind rush past and fill his ears and eyes and nose and mouth with white noise, and leave his skin to tingle?

-Styles

Bike Accident of the Week! (BAWWWW)

I've decided, from now on this blog is devoted to exciting wipeouts, accidents, and other ridiculous shit that happens on my bike! Check back often to find out how long I can go without reflectors or a headlamp! When will I finally get the helmet that Nate has promised to me?! When will a car finally run me over when I skid along these super busy city streets!? Check out the awesome photos of Leipziger Str embedded in my elbow! I really love my bike, and I've even written "Ode to Torpedo."

-~How I love thee, let me count the ways. Three weeks I've had thee. You are shineless and black as night, and so make me invisible to the speed demons who scour the lonely streets at night looking for prey. Without reflectors you emanate your love for me. Twice, today marks, you have thrown me from your grasp as your pumping chain skips a beat from the tenderness of my touch, which arouses your gears to spin free. You get on your weakened knees and you beg me to take me with you, when you break down and squeal. I know I've let another nurse you back to health, and it cost me. Still I try to pull you back together, stretch the boundaries of hesitancy that keep us from exploring. Yet when even all fails, you give me golden wings to make believe I am flying with you.~-

E bandaged-strictly

Trippins

This deserves a post on its own, since it is post-dated. Here are pictures from the trip to Budapest and Transylvania, by my friend James Wetzel and some guest shooters. Particular subjects may be somewhat biased, but he's a good photographer and captured some of the great sights which I was unable to.

Parts that work, and parts that don't

This is the first collage piece I made this semester, recently reworked and edited. My idea is that I collect pieces I can make a physical collage from so that I can have one original piece and then more fancy editions on the computer. Something about there being a difference between original works and.. original works. I realize I'm stealing material to begin with.

It's self-titled.

In other news, I've been recovering from a crazy bike accident from which I'm intensely lucky to have come off relatively clean. A few scrapes and bruises, but I'm astounded I didn't have a concussion or at least a broken nose or some misssing teeth. My wheels have have granted me the freedom the get around town above ground and breathe the air and take in some exercise time. On the negative side, I lost my wallet a few days ago while I was riding; it just slipped out as I was pumping my butt muscles along. Fair? No, I don't think it's a matter of fairness, but I feel fairly stupid. That incident has been subjugated to the immensity of my luck. Two days ago I was riding and my chain came off the gear, I completely bailed, my bike went sliding across the cobblestone road, I hit the ground and my face slammed into a concrete pole sticking out of the sidewalk. I got up with a short headache, checked to find out the situation of my face, no bloody nose, no teeth missing. I hit on the bone just under my right eye, barely missing any more serious part that might crack easily.

Take things in stride. I'm not being hasty, but I'm not going to waste my time.

Cram it

Springtime welcomes me back to the dismal city of Berlin. Two months of relative sunlessness are over and everyday shall be in celebration from now on. Until it starts raining. Ah but I had a nice break from city living while traveling through Romania. With the whole crew of Lexia students from Berlin, and the addition of the two students from Krakow, the trip started with two days in Budapest. A short time to see such a beautiful city, yet full of great sights of the hills rolling around the Danube river, the parliament building on the bank of Pest and the royal palace atop the hills of Buda. Yes, once it was two separate cities. I could try my best to give a history lesson about Eastern Europe but that is not wholly my intent. following Budapest we spent a week bussing through Transylvania (which makes up 50% of Romania, and no, Dracula does not have a castle), traveling the Carpathian mountains to stay with Hungarian families and experience traditional life in small farming villages. Seven days on a bus was tiresome, and bumpy, especially for me in the backseat, but the view was unsurpassable. I spent most of my time looking out the window or giddily drinking a two-liter bottle of beer (the thing was too ridiculous not to buy!) from one of our frequent gas station stops. I'm sure I saw no less than a hundred churches with copper or silver roofing. We visited a good number of churches ranging from the 1300s to more modern and reconstructed ones. Mostly the population is Orthodox so it's very traditional and some of these places have amazingly fancy ornamentation, mosaics, silver chandeliers and huge altarpieces. Some terrible misfortune of poor overseeing led me to leave my camera at home, so my only evidence can be found spread throughout various cameras of my friends (I have to gather those), or in the souveniers I bought. It was kind of a relief though, just to be able to take in the surroundings, but I wish I'd been able to capture some of the striking views. I bought local specialties like hungarian salami with paprika, and

My favorite moment of the trip was staying in Torocko, an old village set in the valley of some beautiful mountains. This morning of the day after I arrived I woke up at 5 from a dream about waking up at 6 to go walking in the mountains. It was a surreal experience because just before I awoke I was watching magnificent colors shooting over the peak of the mountain as the sun refracted in the sky, with the night's expectations of what I was going to see in the morning. So I woke up and it was still dark, and I set out on my journey. I'd spotted a nice outcropping of rock on the way into town the day before, but I didn't stop just there. It was so rejuvenating to keep walking, to keep climbing, to breathe in the fresh air and listen as the town came to life further and further away, the sounds of the roosters and sheep echoing off the treeline on the mountainside. Conquering nature early in the morning makes the rest of the day seem humbled.

Each day was bookended with home-cooked meals, fresh jams and wines made by the families, and copious amounts of sumptuous soups and meats. I'm terribly saddened at the loss of a half-liter jar of rosehip jam I bought from one of my hosts, as it was confiscated at the airport at the end of the trip since I didn't think to check it. Jam is a pretty suspicious substance, I'll admit. Most of our events and group meals were welcomed with shots of Palinka, high-proof alcohol. Maybe no-proof. There's no proof it won't kill you. This stuff is moonshine and it burns. Even though I couldn't really speak with anyone they were so gracious to share their homes and their food. I had some help in translation from the group's guide Haigny, and the driver, Laszlo, who spoke some English.

In the end I'm only glad to be back in Berlin because it is nice here, everyone is outside in the park and the cafes are overflowing into the streets, and people start taking their clothes off. It's time for progress and activity, time to have fun and get work done and find a confluence of the two. I have a lasting niceness from my vacation from this larger vacation which is life in Europe. I don't agree with this word though, which takes root in some absence. To vacate? Get the hell out of here!? No, it's nice to take breaks though, to change scenery, to breathe air you've never tasted before. Then again, I miss some familiar sweet tastes that are far away across oceans. Oh, my Jersey produce, the kind that grows in my heart.

I bought a bike today.

~Elijah, On the other side of the woods.

Babylegs

I've been making collages lately with collected images. It's fun to organize them on the computer before setting down the actual pieces. That way I have a physical object but I also have endless possibilities after the fact. After gluing down, sealing some definitive edition. Also reusing pieces has it's benefits. I like building up materials and constructing from parts.

This is a piece about sharing. Sharing is Sexy.

In the waves of waking

I'm thinking about the effect of place on art, as place influences art. The place creates of itself. Inspirations of Heironymus Bosch's delightful garden of twisted creatures and revelry, here where embodiment is as well a dream, it teaches us to live, and maybe more than once, that we have many influences set upon us. Either we draw the strings to make motions or we see ourselves a puppet on a stage.

-Skimming through Vision

Posty Post

Toasty roast. Psychosomatic tomato fantastic. I really don't want to update this now that I've begun. I wanted to write some of what I've done lately, such as Krakow. It was awesome what I saw some of the time a bit crazy, a bit of spinning out of control if you would compare the flushing of a toilet to the flushing of a whole people, of people as a whole because the world was really going to shit whenever someone thought there was a difference between you and I.

Between the cracks in our minds we slip little notes rolled up and get smoked like the barren earth from which we're birthed.

I'm all in for personal expression so here, but hear, you can't project your expectations on the space between sentences without sentencing yourself. Maybe you don't hear yourself, that other people should know already what you have to say. You don't have to. You don't have anything to give if you don't already cherish that someone is willing to take from you. Giving forth and relinquishing are quite opposite, but consider it giving or giving up. Synonyms of antonyms distinguish this. I find lately the curious equalizing of the word have to mean must. Possessing something is not to be taken for granted, though it may have been granted to you. That is a privilege. What the fuck be so frantic for? You only realize the value of time when that's all you don't have left, in the end. By that time you are not ahead of the game because it's not a game, and there is no winning.

:S/V:

Wash your shadow off the wall

Hey it's ME-lijah, let me date you. I mean keep you. I mean keep you up to date. I mean I'm just looking for a good time. No promises, and don't rely on me, but you can lie here all you want. My hair is getting longer, my fingernails never. My desks are amassing with paper cutouts and slash marks and my computer doesn't have room to let me work.

And I need your lovin like the sunshine.

It helped me barely make it through the winterstilte until I realized it was my heart that had stopped. I wonder what life-support is. I don't think machines can really guarantee your life. They don't come with a warrantee to say the least. I do believe you can leave your mind and your heart will go on beating, but not the other way around. Once you give up on the pulsing in-and-outs of life you cannot readmit yourself, admit that to yourself.

Man I've been gone over a month now. I just hit six weeks today, I just checked. I have a lot of space to myself, even though I have a small room and a small program with only a few kids I like and even then, I have my reservations. But really a lot of space to myself. The whole world. Sure, it's everyone's to share, everyone who's here now and past and future, but there's so much empty space. You really have to look across distances to get any of it. Maybe some things you bring a little closer to inspect, but that's not even necessary. There is enough room for everyone to distribute their wealth and their worth and there's never a reason to feel there is none for you. The poorest men are those who cannot see past their own dollars, while perhaps the richest are those who feel the weight of change in their pocket.

Well where I was going with that was that I am trying to reach my arms across oceans and into small crevices to find loose change and affix it where things are broken. Enough of that metaphor. Change, we all get it. I'm loving the German language because sometimes it makes so much sense and it even helps me understand (and possibly accept) english a little better. I had a substitute teacher Claudia for a week who was great at talking in approachable German and I was completely on level with learning through her exposure, rather than Anemone who likes to play simple games and gestures at learning. Either way my five weeks of class are over and I'm about to set about on travels for the next month before coming back to Berlin to focus on my semester project 100%, or 90%, or I'll figure out how much I have to subtract for sleeping time. I'm taking a train to Krakow on Friday. While I'm there I'll see how the Lexia program is there (there are only two students and I hear it sucks) and I'll be going to Auschwitz. That's going to be intense. My seminars have been mainly cultural, relevant to Germany's coming-to-terms with itself, and historical. I've had a wide scope of topics in art, specific movements relevant to the cultural context and society, which puts into perspective even contemporary art to some degree. I've been having ideas of my own, or at least having the idea of having ideas, or having the idea of having ideas become more than ideas. I have less to complain about my coordinators and certain instructors because it's simply not worthy of my time to think that way, or to bond with the other students in talking shit. However, I do talk about shit often, since there are so many dogs in the city and no regulation on curbing. Maybe the dogs here are so obedient and seemingly awesome because they just shit wherever they like. Think how much nicer people would be if they weren't obstinately pushing their way through a crowd simply because they'd been holding one back all day. There's value to the phrase anal-retentive, as in fact it comes from the irritability of human societies because of their reservations with bodily functions.

I have a decent amount of work due after Krakow which for sure will distract me from concentrating on the camp. That's not so well-organized. I need to just get the work done though because break is soon after and I will be seeing my father and stepmother. Free time (Freizeit) in Berlin will be nice because there are things I want to see and do yet haven't found the time for. I'm hoping I will procure a bike by April especially so I can ride to Grünewald. I'm making plans to reconnect with an old friend in Munich for a few days before the end of my break and then I head for Budapest and Romania with Lexia. Though I don't quite know what's in store I'm glad I get a chance to travel while I'm here. I've been thinking about traveling in May when I finish with Lexia because I will really be on my own when the program ends and most of the kids go back to the states. I'll have a few contacts left but I think it would really be something to get from place to place on my own and maybe stay with random people or see who I might be able to meet up with. It would be really great to hit up contacts in Amsterdam or Spain or Italy before vacationing with the family in the Dominican Republic in August. That will be really nice, but it will also be the biggest culture shock; visiting a region so rich in a culture I know little about, am intrigued by, but staying only on a private American-owned estate. Privacy... I hope to go someday with my friend Lis Mery to get a sense of life there. While I'm here I should be having more of a Berlin nightlife and trying to establish German relations.

More important things that happened lately were
A) trip to Dessau to see the Bauhaus school of design, directed by Walter Gropius as the heyday of modernity and sleek functionality. It was cool to be there and think about how it would have been as a functioning facility. The craziest thing was learning how it changed, was destroyed and rebuilt and overrun by the Nazis for a time. I think the Bauhaus had the whole ideal thing down pretty well, so it's weird that the Nazi party criticized its nature (but still took over the building after only minor changes). Also in Dessau is the Federal Environmental Agency which is housed in a fantastic and inspiring eco-building which provides 50% of its own energy. The building curves around itself to form a walking-space between two walls of offices where there are tropical plants and even a pool to give humidity to the office environment.
B)erlin's Fuβball team Hertha against Gladbach. Hertha won by the time I finished my liter-cup of beer. The Olympia Stadion where Hitler held his speech at the 1936 Olympics is an impressive stone fascist construction in a complex of arenas and fields. Rather eerie, but it was interesting to be there.

I wrote all that last night and I was expecting to continue but I'm not in the mood. Deutschkurs ist fertig! It was a lovely day out and I got to exercise in my favorite park and I ran into this Frenchman named Matthieu from the language school and we sat outside at a cafe and talked about life and the world and relationships and photography, and much on my mind. Earlier I went to see the Eastside Gallery, a large remaining section of the wall that is covered in artists' work with murals of reunification and some inspiring things, given it's taking back the eastside after the wall came down.

~Beeline Smilah

P.S. I want to see Prague.

clear-eyed fiction

"Photography is not an art. Neither is painting nor sculpture, literature or music. They are only different media for the individual to express his aesthetic feelings… You do not have to be a painter or a sculptor to be an artist. You may be a shoemaker. You may be creative as such. And if so you are a greater artist than the majority of the painters whose work is shown in the art galleries of today."
-Alfred Stieglitz

Delicious Berlin Ale

This is the 59th annual film festival in Berlin. I have an accreditations pass to see most of the films for free, without waiting for tickets, or at least I am able to see any others I want and get tickets for free. Friday night was a kicker opening and all the affiliated establishments and theaters everywhere around had free wine. The films I am seeing for class, and truly the more interesting contributions to the festival, are the Forum films, of which this is the 39th anniversary in the Berlinale. These are mostly independent foreign films (with english subs at least!) done low-budget and perhaps a bit overshadowed by the big commercial films (and the presence of their cast and crew) which get most of the press here in Berlin. Friday I saw a documentary (called Defamation) about anti-semitism which left me a bit unmotivated but it was well-done for the most part and the director of this film handled his interviews intelligently and wittily. He was really searching for answers about anti-semitism as he had never experienced much of it while living in Israel his whole life.
I had a great start to my Saturday waking up still drunk from the previous night of revelry in the streets in order to see a 9:30am film which lasted 237 minutes and blew me away with constant enthrallment. Love Exposure by Japanese director Sono Sion is about a perverted son of a corrupt Catholic priest who sins in order to have something to confess to his father's demand that humanity isn't good enough. The actors are convincing to a scary degree, as the film is at times scary and graphic and perverted and twisted, with a great soundtrack of J-pop and religious music, hm. A cool feature of a film festival as large as this is the attendance of directors and actors who are glad to talk about their films and respond to the audience. Sono Sion seems like a funky dude and seriously genius. After four hours of this movie I only wanted to see it again. Piecing the movie together are really creative interplays of light-heartedness and intense drama and in the end of things Sion uses the nature of man's erection to reach out to the righteousness of living and loving. "Love between two people cannot create war," he says, while love for one's country certainly does.
I saw two other movies this day, only one about which I care to expound. One was just shitty, American, and shitty. Shitty acting and shit, and shit. But there was one good song and the cinematography was decent. Otherwise shit. But then I saw this film Mann Tänker Sitt, a Swedish film but a Norwegian saying as the title which translates to something like "Man Thinks It's Own" but which was presented as "Burrowing" to the english-speaking audience; the story of a boy Sebastian finding himself in the world at the young age of pre-pubescency, observing his small community and venturing into nature while venturing into his own mind as the place where decisions are made and life is created as it should belong to one's own. I want to see this again before the end of the festival to pick up some of the lines which were so philosophical and prophetic. Referenced in the film are Thoreau and Whitman, to give an idea of the standpoint here. The young boy narrates his world and the film is beautiful throughout. So beautiful. The soundtrack is impressive in elucidating the emotions of characters who have little dialogue except to point out inadequacies and faults of their own understandings of life, which Sebastian is very keen on picking up himself.

I know you're still there

I don't have much time for an update right now because I have to leave the studio to meet an artist, but I have a few important things.

Language class is going really well. It's easy and enjoyable and the teacher is nice and helpful. The language school is really diverse and I like seeing all the people in the cafe nearby on break because people have come from everywhere (yet everyone needs coffee). Not everyone in the city speaks English but I hope to acquire some handling of a means of communication, and I can do most things I need to.
Tomorrow is the start of Berlin's annual film festival, the Berlinale! For ten days I'll be going around the city to watch lots of movies, mostly in German, and to write stories and take pictures. I'll try to update about movies I see because as of now I know nothing about the schedule.
I've been having classes in the Gemäldegalerie which has a huge collection of original prints. Today we looked at Goya's "The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters" and Edvard Munch's "Madonna," as well as pieces by Gustav Klimt and Max Klinger. It's great to work with originals and really impressive, I might add.
I met an artist Loredana Nemes yesterday and I'm going to see her again to check out her studio and talk about being an artist in Berlin and what it takes to get where you're going, and if that makes any sense. It doesn't, but it's good to talk about things you don't know with people who know other things, and she had really nice photos and nice things to say about them. I'm hoping to make good connections with working artists and curators!
Das is alles for jetzt.
-Elili Jango

Holy Shit February, and the past few days

Last night was the lange nacht der museen, an event that happens twice annually in Berlin in which most museums accept admission through a single ticket and stay open until 1 or 2am. Special busses take huge crowds of people all over the city to the numerous museums and exhibits that may be going on and berliners and tourists celebrate. My first stop was the Altes (old) museum for its show of egyptian art and the bust of Nefertiti. For some reason they had pieces by Alberto Giacometti attempting to represent ancient egyptian-style figures through his crude metal sculpture. I thought it was the most absurd thing and their presence almost would have detracted from the fine beauty of the egyptian sculptor's style if not for the utmost disparity and lack of inspiration. The most fascinating pieces in the exhibit were Roman style portraits from egypt which were undated but made me very curious.
After the Altes I went to an exhibit in the Deutschland Historisches museum covering art made between the WWI and WWII, impressions of the war and the nazi and socialist parties. Some of this stuff was truly incredible. Paul Weber made the most powerful prints, foreshadowing events 30 years in the future as critical artists and activists at the time knew to be inevitable given the state of affairs at the time. Scathing commentary and incredible depictions of terribly grim nature.
Sculptor Anish Kapoor had an installation at the Deutsch Guggenheim. The piece, "Memory," was a huge steel oblong object in one room with a window to the inside set into a white wall in the opposite room. With no lights on the interior the incredible whiteness of the wall pulled out the incredible blackness within. It was full of tourists poking their heads into this wall and ruining the effect by flashing it up, but I can imagine it's impressive power on a person in solitude and quiet which it reflects.
The last stop of the night was the Gemaldegalerie to look at classical paintings. Supposedly the gallery was featuring a comparison of Giotto to Rothko but there were no Rothko pieces and I'll have to see if that's elsewhere in the museum because I have no idea how the two could be related. I did spend a good deal of time with Gilles (an art history major in the same program as I) to cover the entire gallery which houses some terribly famous paintings by Carravaggio, Rembrandt, and other painters I appreciate like Watteau, Ruisdael, and Rubens.

I'm actually writing this blog in reverse from today which is Sunday back to Wednesday since I want to cover the places I've been if not just briefly to convey a sense of how much there is to do. Time goes very fast and very slow when you enjoy everything you do and are not settled into a scheduled routine (which will start tomorrow with 9am class everyday for five weeks), but even then time gets distorted in different ways for different reasons, not all of which we understand or care to put together so much, but at least I'm attempting to keep it together by writing about some solid things. Later in the semester is when I get to open my valves all the way and get into working my creative flow. I drip every now and then but it doesn't leave a trail I can trace back. I wonder if it evaporates, or rather becomes part of wherever it lands, like an oil stain which you may polish over but only further engrain.

Friday 30.1 was dinner my house with the cool kids I've befriended, James, Ariella, Ian, Gilles, and Ryan (my roommate), mostly the coolest of the bunch of Lexia Study Abroad students. We're a mix of the visual art kids and architecture kids and we've been bonding more than the others. People develop preferences, it's only natural when you want to have fun. Anyway we cooked a wicked dinner of Gnocchi and Tortellini with mushrooms and pesto and drank several bottles of wine and ate copious gummies all in preparation for a long night of clubbing. It was some of ours' first times clubbing, others seasoned veterans of the dance floor war (it can be scary out there). Truly too expensive to get into a club which was too small, is all I have to say. It was fun though going and coming and in-betweening. I thought I locked myself out of my apartment since Ryan broke his key earlier in the day and I was sure my key was in my room. Not until traversing town to James' place did I casually pull my key out of my pocket like it was nothing and just stand in awe for a half a second before laughing my ass off.

Wednesday and Thursday I visited cemeteries, Wednesday the Jewish cemetery and Thursday the memorial for Soviet soldiers in Treptower Park in East Berlin. The two were impressive in entirely different ways and encompass entirely different mindsets while approaching. The Soviet monument is a citation of power and honor in a time of most difficulty for the Germans, while the Jewish cemetery recalls a mass defilement of a race in a place meant to honor their presence on the earth. The resting places of the dead say a lot about the times. I think I'll want to return on my own some other time, as I've always had some kind of attraction to cemeteries and their whims.

Early to rise

28.1.2009

Monday was 9, yesterday was 8. I’m up at 7 this morning. In the instant all I knew was I was now awake but had just been dreaming vividly, then I realized my need to micturate must have risen my awareness. Yeah then I began to remember what I was dreaming of, though it slips away so easily once you find yourself on the cusp of the day. Matthias is an early riser now so I found him with coffee and the amazing notion of reading to wake up! Reading always puts me to sleep at night and I can barely accomplish any, but I can see this works much better . If I go back to sleep I’ll surely just waste the hours, though I do need my rest. An early day will help my schedule of exercise in the morning, or it might be that I am already regulating myself to the day. That’s what I would prefer, to be in touch with the day as it rises and falls and to keep myself in check and stimulated. Speaking of that, the windows of the apartments facing my room from across the street are gratuitous squares into a person’s morning life. With the night yet but lifted these early risers who flip their lights make themselves vulnerable to their reflections, subtle forms behind transparency awash. There is something beautiful about humanity when you are not sure and all the same it does not matter because it is so blatant as to be naked. We want only our imagination but accept being faced with stark truth because it is so pure. To be filthy can be so pure if one purges oneself (or especially if another) of the layers of obscuring dredge.

In any case, vouyeurism is a keen mind and an eye of equality.

Potent

Today began what I hope is a routine to get me back into better physical health, which is always accompanied by better mental energies and I am excited for that. There is an amazing playground nearby my house which I jogged to this morning to use the exercise equipment. The U.S. doesn't have any public exercise machines because it's totally not safe and people are stupid, but I'm so glad I'm in Berlin. I have to photograph this playground though because I cannot do justice to it's awesomeness in description. I don't know the measurements but it consists of a giant net dome structure sealed all but for one section, so you can climb on top into a second chamber about 30 feet high, or play in the ground level area like you are in a big cage. I want to get a soccer ball for that! It overlooks a train platform I can use to get to the Lexia Studio after working out, though I'm not sure how I'll jog with all my stuff. I guess I'll have to adjust my routine, maybe not do it everyday, but either way I'll be improving my wellness. My writing has been inspiring me and I met my photography instructor yesterday. This guy Mark Simon seems pretty good to work with and he's teaching a few of the other returning students a master's level class which I might take if I can fit the hours. Last night I went to a jazz club called A Trane which has free entry mondays and late night jam sessions on Saturdays. There is so much music to be heard in this city. I'm really happy to have established so many good things so early on, as this is the last day of my first week. Exhilirating.

Find me on AIM and we can videochat when I'm online!

Damn Pots

Okay so I must do some backlogging. It's hard to keep up with the internet when I have so much to do and so much on my mind. You'll notice the dates on which I post entries do not correspond with the dates I include at the top to indicate when I have written and when the details may be prevalent. I'm in the studio for class right now so this is a live update woouoouou.

Firstly some business. MY ADDRESS, here in Berlin:

Elijah Snyder-Vidmar
Bei Matthias Forster (my host)
17 Blumenthal Strasse
Berlin, Germany 10783

I won't post my cellphone number until I look into my plan. If perhaps I can receive international calls for free then I'll leave it up to y'all to call me. If you do, keep in mind I am in various classes at various times, out for expeditions, taking language class, dancing at crazy clubs, or trying to find some time for reading all the class material I have (which I haven't worked into my daily schedule yet).

I want to give a quick update on Sunday's trip to Potsdam with professor Helmut Franz again. Background on Helmut, he is the most amazing character, so full of knowledge and energy and life in his old age, he constantly impresses and amuses. He's lived in Berlin since 1967 but travels most of the year except to spend the Summer in Berlin, which he tells me is one of the loveliest places to be. The next scheduled trip with him is in April but I plan to meet with him more often on my own. In Potsdam we toured the old Dutch tenement district which was built by the Prussian king Friederich the Great and offered as an enticement for outsiders to contribute their resources to the town. The Prussians didn't have much to work with but the knowledge of what they needed and how they could get it. It's a charming town, but really astounding is the royal palace of Friederich II which is so prevalent in the town. A Huge complex of palaces and gardens, every tree placed specifically, amazing views from every walkway. I was impressed by the attention to aesthetic beauty in the culmination of nature and architecture, the sense of private life the palace instilled and how that compares to publicity. I'll definitely be going in the Spring to see all the trees and flowers in full bloom, the palace in all it's splendor, as many of the outdoor statues were boxed up to protect them from the weather.
Friederich II was a strange character with some simple pleasures in life, evident in the way he planned out his royal grounds, the private buildings and palaces he had built, and how he chose to be buried next to his greyhounds not any of his family. He also only saw his wife once a year on special occasions, probably as a formality since it is thought he was gay. What a life. I can only imagine discrepancies between the power and responsibilities and freedoms that come with being a ruler and a man just the same. It makes me want to take greater control over my life, to seek what I want and live how I want and that's a very individual thing sometimes. I realize that I give certain courtesies to people without addressing how I truly feel. You really have to feel able to be honest in everything you do, balance the good and the bad, the nice and the not so nice, as long as you are true to yourself you can be a decent person no matter what.
-E

24.1.2009.
My day didn’t go exactly as planned. It’s five AM Sunday morning while I’m writing this and I have to be up at 9 to go to Potsdam for a long tour with professor Helmut Franz, with whom I went to Schloss Charlottenburg today. The palace belonged to Friederich the great and Friederich II and we talked about the change of leadership from one ruler to the next and about the architecture and the art within through time. Friederich II was very progressive in a sense in abolishing slavery and mandating institutions of schooling for the public. He saw himself as serving the state of Prussia and not as the ultimate figure. His father was regarded as highly as the sun; his waking each day was celebrated. Some decoration in the palace was highly worthwhile though the Baroque style of architecture seemed redundant and boring. After this I got pizza with Gilles, Ariella, Ian, Dani, and Ryan. Later this evening I went to Hamburger Bahnhof to see the Joseph Beuys exhibit, though the museum closed before I could cover half of the main exhibit and permanent collection. After this things started to go wrong. I had an awfully nerve-wracking experience with the (electronics department store) Saturn employ who accused me of stealing, and I had to remove all of my personal items on me, which number quite a few at any given time. Perhaps I looked suspicious when my lens cap fell from underneath my large coat, wearing leather gloves (which I bought at a flohmarkt [fleamarket]), black bandana, and numerous electronic appliances. In the end I had to buy an iPod charger they accused me of stealing though I needed one anyway. I’ll return it if I can to get my money back and get a cable from a friend if need be. Fucking ridiculousness. I got fries and drunk and made some crazy art for several hours just being silly and special like I am in order to ward off the bad vibrations. Speaking of bad vibrations I had only a waffle for breakfast and drank much coffee so I was shaking during the tour of the palace at Charlottenburg. There is a neat market nearby my apartment Wednesdays and Saturdays and right near that market is Baharat Falafel which I mentioned earlier. I was craving all day but everything everywhere is so good I can’t be resorting to staples already.

My foot just fell asleep while writing this and I have several assignments tomorrow.

Written 22.1.2009 Donnerstag

Today I met Jacquelyn, the creative writing teacher. Fuck, I can’t believe it’s my second day here and how good I am feeling. Jacquelyn has a nice apartment built by the jews in the 1800s, lived in by nazi wives after the war, college students more recently, and jacquelyn and her family for the past 20 (zweizig) years. We looked at the architecture and the deco and then she told us (the visual culture and German area studies students) what each room originally functioned as and we got a sense of how it had been appropriated by each character that inhabited the space. I am excited for the first two creative writing assignments which have us going to a flea market and a graveyard to write stories.

/I was just tapping on the floor and realized I’m in an apartment building. They can probably hear what I’m doing, because I could hear saxophone downstairs yesterday. I just got back from Joseph Roth with Matthias, his friend Tobias, and the flatmate/fellow student Ryan who are all here tonight; Tobias as a guest for the night, and Ryan until May. Matthias has been in this apartment for three, maybe four years, seven in Berlin total, and I don’t know where home is for him. He is my kind host, if you didn’t get that. He cooked risotto for dinner with his friend Tobias and myself while I was exploring the first German supermarket squandering over broccolis and spinach. I’ll cook some other day, and I bought porto wien and some spice strangely familiar as it comes to be (mugwort? Wtf). J.R was a charming bar down potsdamer strasse commemorating the famous author, where ransom quotes adorned the walls and sweet jazz adorned the airspace. I’m glad we went there tonight instead of the tranny bar around the corner. Some other night, okay?

I didn’t carry my camera with me today, instead lugging my computer for the free internet at the studio space. God forbid when I want to put this on the web tomorrow I will take both with me and be forever burdened by my strained shoulder. I must fix my posture and strengthen myself so I can carry my god damned electronics with me, since I can’t rely on my own processing. Barely. Hardly. I’m not as drunk as last night, I couldn’t even write, but still feeling goody goody because I’m loving this place and just so excited to be learning and developing and building. Much of the other students are in the architecture program so they are really building, but I am learning Visual Culture. Why is culture important? Why is art important? Why is art visual? When culture is visual it gives you something to look at as evidence of, in support of that culture. Germany strongly promotes its culture and therefore its art, spreading it around the world, and within the system providing funds for artists to create, to do what they do and do it well with resources they might not have on their own. But to have an idea, a vision, to make it visible for others is sought as important in this world. This country at least. My idea of the world at least. My idea of this country at least. Maybe I like this country, this city, because people share that idea that art is important, and maybe I just didn’t realize it back home, at Rutgers when I was so distracted by everything that fell into place, everything that I put into place and didn’t realize I was doing, everyone who saw a part of me and I let wonder who this boy is and could never tell. I could never tell. Myself, or anyone else. I never had the words, just thoughts and wonders. Great wonders of the world if only I could bring them into existence before forgetting them. Forgetting then forgiving myself because I am so brilliant, but so ignorant, no, stupid, that I could let go such great things as love and lust and beautiful women with so much care for the world and for me that I could just leave them for this. But I know they will do well for themselves and learn by my not being there, as I am learning myself to be without them is to see something in them I never saw because I was always so close, always touching its cheek, whichever one, and never asking for love and maybe never accepting it. I was open to love and lust and freedom and I was so confused and so disparate and with nothing to hold onto even though my hands were constantly grasping, for a fine buttocks or breast, a hand to hold, a mouth to kiss, and my eyes were intense, sometimes fleeting and closing because of some place as far from the digits, closer to the mouth, but still with regard to relations of space.

Who will understand this? But I’m glad I’m writing.

I love those who will understand this, but I won’t want to talk about it. This is just coming out of me like a fountain of blood from my fingers, cracked bones from my body which cause me to wither and shake and worry and destroy. Fierceness building in a weakened shell fighting itself from both sides with no middleground to coast on, like running from waves on the coastline. You want the water to take you over so you keep from the waves, not caring that the sand is yet wet, it is not water so you allow this game of chase, of temptress to the waves who want your eager feet but you don’t realize that. You only think about coldness, and it comes from within you.
Beauty and greatness come from within me and I am shy of it. No one can be amazed all the time. So I cannot amaze. I cannot inspire always and so often I am empty. All or nothing. Good or bad. Fuck or hope to someday find someone as beautiful and loving and amazing, and even then you still missed it. Anyone is capable of loving you so much as long as you are honest with them, so just be. JUST BE. Fuck. Just.. fuck. Just FUCKING BE.