13 May 2011
Global Dumbing
In order to effectuate greater justice to the world we should militate against those who try to mitigate global warming through any means which will invariably harm an established ecosystem in favor of our race's own obstinate disposition. Human's are headstrong. That is a strength and also a weakness. Mother nature can't stop, won't stop. Bring the flood. Smite the fools, be they educated or not. This world needs people who care about the world, not people that care about the people. Imagine running headfirst into a brick wall, expecting to break through it. How about some adaptive reasoning? Let's fucking evolve.
28 February 2011
"The woman smiled with a royal calmness, her instincts of conquest, of ferocity, the entire heredity of the species, the will of seduction and ensnaring, the charm of the deceiver, the kindness which conceals a cruel purpose, all that appeared and disappeared alternately behind the laughing veil and melted into the poem of her smile . . . Good and evil, cruelty and compassion, graceful and cat-like, she laughed . . ." - A.Conti
31 December 2010
18 August 2010
Sewing Factory rm 409 / 106
roughly 1900 sq. ft. / $1417 per month
This place seems like it's nice but the block is actually kinda sketchy. The regulations on building inside the rooms seem to limit the possibilities, i.e. no building platforms or second-story spaces. Not a ton of room for the price. It could fit 3 but that's 475/mo. Out of my range. Poop.
Room 106 is 2200 sq.ft. for $1583/mo. Has three bedrooms built already. Large enough rooms to divide further between more people, and enough space to have another sleeping area outside of the portioned rooms. Nice windows and floors. Sorry I don't have pics but the guy showing me around must have been a robot and I had to move on quickly.
This place seems like it's nice but the block is actually kinda sketchy. The regulations on building inside the rooms seem to limit the possibilities, i.e. no building platforms or second-story spaces. Not a ton of room for the price. It could fit 3 but that's 475/mo. Out of my range. Poop.
Room 106 is 2200 sq.ft. for $1583/mo. Has three bedrooms built already. Large enough rooms to divide further between more people, and enough space to have another sleeping area outside of the portioned rooms. Nice windows and floors. Sorry I don't have pics but the guy showing me around must have been a robot and I had to move on quickly.
Milk Depot rm 206
2300sq. ft.
1800/mo asking price
Old dairy processing building with a lot of new steel work added for aesthetic
First room
Two-story unit
Second floor with separate entrance.
Here is a link to the drawing/plan for the room that shows how it sits in the building.
Okay so this is a huge room. You can see the first room which you enter is pretty big. Up the ladder (stairs will be built as well as railings) there is a second floor. Tons of space, could easily fit four people with enough room between them, though five might be pushing it. Temporary partitions can be built but nothing heavy-duty in terms of construction. There is a neat courtyard and roof access. A few artists and musicians live in other units but most of the building has not been finished. This particular space might not be ready until October but it depends how soon someone is willing to rent it out. The guy who owns the place even said he'd pay for materials and put in the labor if anything specific needs to be done to bring the place to our liking. It sounded like he didn't want to rent to a bunch of non-professional people but I think that was only because I sounded like I am trying to cram as many people into the space as possible in order to cut the cost p/p. I am ready for a place like this if I get enough good people on my team. At least it's a dream, whether I realize it next month or in a couple years. Let's hear what you think.
1800/mo asking price
Old dairy processing building with a lot of new steel work added for aesthetic
First room
Two-story unit
Second floor with separate entrance.
Here is a link to the drawing/plan for the room that shows how it sits in the building.
Okay so this is a huge room. You can see the first room which you enter is pretty big. Up the ladder (stairs will be built as well as railings) there is a second floor. Tons of space, could easily fit four people with enough room between them, though five might be pushing it. Temporary partitions can be built but nothing heavy-duty in terms of construction. There is a neat courtyard and roof access. A few artists and musicians live in other units but most of the building has not been finished. This particular space might not be ready until October but it depends how soon someone is willing to rent it out. The guy who owns the place even said he'd pay for materials and put in the labor if anything specific needs to be done to bring the place to our liking. It sounded like he didn't want to rent to a bunch of non-professional people but I think that was only because I sounded like I am trying to cram as many people into the space as possible in order to cut the cost p/p. I am ready for a place like this if I get enough good people on my team. At least it's a dream, whether I realize it next month or in a couple years. Let's hear what you think.
20 February 2010
Yoga, Good Eats, Not Enough Sleep
It's coming in real clear to me that change has got to come. I'm not waiting for it, but I have been for oh so long. I've known for years and still I denied it, and now it's no wonder that so much has troubled me along the way. I don't take care of myself anyway or anyhow, anytime, not then, not now. My brain does this thing where it's part of me. Get that! It's more than doing, it's being. "Me being who I am" is a concept that has existed mostly in my head and rarely extended its truest form to the world, let alone other people in my life. Yes, in my life or not in my life, I hardly act upon my intentions, my ideas, my insights into others or even myself, and they do not manifest. They infest my brain, rather, tormenting me and separating me from the things I wish to be closest to. I am a fool for thinking myself capable of understanding while going the whole time without focusing on myself. Perhaps I thought of myself in selfish ways, but never in a helpful light. Never in a way that I could interact with this world. Never first.
The requirements of life are so simple and easily tended to, and when you take care to satisfy them you are then able to manage more complicated requests and procedures, to further your life and the lives of others, to step beyond any limitations, and truly, simply, to just be fucking happy. It's not everlasting happiness that we need, since the ability to feel is itself enough. If we can't feel, then we can't feel happiness. If we can't feel, then we can't understand pain. We can't know how much we hurt others or how much we please them or how good it is until we just letttttt goooooooooo. Let life flow into you. BREATE IT IN. I fixate on things like I am a junkie and my mind rots whenever I am not escaping into pure animalistic bliss, because otherwise I let the simplest things become a burden. I have overcomplicated my nature, and in its fucked-up, sub-par, and malfunctioning state I tend to think I am something other than the very simple creature I am; in this something other with its hesitations and insecurities and QUESTIONS to things for which I know where lie the answers, the mind controls the body controls the mind. I want to reach out and kiss the face of every pretty girl I see, I want to swing from every street tree, and get to know every good man and woman on earth. I want to be at equals with the earth and all its power and glory, not in the eyes of mankind but of life itself, as a product of it, and to exude it. If our closest neighbor holds any sway over us, it is not the moon, not solely the great forces of higher beings, but of the greater nature of ourselves and our loved ones, the fellow in man and beast and rock and soil, all the elements in unity to promote wholesome oneness. What is there to feel apart from but the isolating feeling of separation from self? We can make only pretense in our lives when we deny ourselves and what we have, even if what we have is arrived at by pretense thusly. Such a simple mistake, to want to live and not to do it. To want to inspire and only ruin. To want to exalt and only demean. To want to create and not be overtaken by creation. To want. To want. to want. Intentions are dimensions of dementia that lend to you a tension of declension.
The requirements of life are so simple and easily tended to, and when you take care to satisfy them you are then able to manage more complicated requests and procedures, to further your life and the lives of others, to step beyond any limitations, and truly, simply, to just be fucking happy. It's not everlasting happiness that we need, since the ability to feel is itself enough. If we can't feel, then we can't feel happiness. If we can't feel, then we can't understand pain. We can't know how much we hurt others or how much we please them or how good it is until we just letttttt goooooooooo. Let life flow into you. BREATE IT IN. I fixate on things like I am a junkie and my mind rots whenever I am not escaping into pure animalistic bliss, because otherwise I let the simplest things become a burden. I have overcomplicated my nature, and in its fucked-up, sub-par, and malfunctioning state I tend to think I am something other than the very simple creature I am; in this something other with its hesitations and insecurities and QUESTIONS to things for which I know where lie the answers, the mind controls the body controls the mind. I want to reach out and kiss the face of every pretty girl I see, I want to swing from every street tree, and get to know every good man and woman on earth. I want to be at equals with the earth and all its power and glory, not in the eyes of mankind but of life itself, as a product of it, and to exude it. If our closest neighbor holds any sway over us, it is not the moon, not solely the great forces of higher beings, but of the greater nature of ourselves and our loved ones, the fellow in man and beast and rock and soil, all the elements in unity to promote wholesome oneness. What is there to feel apart from but the isolating feeling of separation from self? We can make only pretense in our lives when we deny ourselves and what we have, even if what we have is arrived at by pretense thusly. Such a simple mistake, to want to live and not to do it. To want to inspire and only ruin. To want to exalt and only demean. To want to create and not be overtaken by creation. To want. To want. to want. Intentions are dimensions of dementia that lend to you a tension of declension.
15 January 2010
Time flies when you think you're having fun but are really ignorant of everything going on around that would slow you down in life
I really do not know how to stay in touch
touch?
yes, I do that
I feel my way through life
I taste
I sample
touch?
yes, I do that
I feel my way through life
I taste
I sample
how
something so sweet can leave a bitter taste in my mouth
I know not why I attach myself to such repulsive acts
but find the comfort in vulnerability
the maddening comfort
I reach out my hands and grab what is in front of me
half the time
half and half
only I drink my coffee black
the other half my mind does the grabbing, the groping, the
slipping up, and it is well lubricated track of thought
my mind reaches but my hands are still
silently ticking
my hands long to encompass yet the factory gates are
closed, or all the workers are on lunch, a smoke break
perhaps
you will never get a job done that way
half-heartedly
left-brained right-brained wrong-brained
and this idea of what it is wrong to think of
the automaton could satisfy itself endlessly
until consciousness comes in and shuts down the whole operation
all those moral lessons that sounded so good
do nothing for you
because no one told you the fairest of all morals are your
god-damned own
my hands and mind would like to be in perfect unison
but I have two of a kind and one of how many?
and no idea what to do with them
how to control myself, my direction, momentum
or any understanding of how anything external controls me
yet it happens still that I am caught between the divide
neither lesser and no greater
I know how to work the parts but I am still reading between
the pages of the manual for something that I will never find
a truth never written
only made to be upheld
upheld to be made true
declaration of independent thinking
06 January 2010
26 December 2009
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.
Sincerely,
Psycho
P.
S.
I'm starting to see things in the noise of things that are not the things themselves.
11 August 2009
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
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
29 June 2009
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.
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.
08 June 2009
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.
07 June 2009
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.
06 June 2009
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!
"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!
17 May 2009
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
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
26 April 2009
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
E bandaged-strictly
21 April 2009
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.
11 April 2009
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.
05 April 2009
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.
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.
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