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
