Tuesday, August 25, 2009
(excerpt from vagabond: burning shoulders)
The dependable heavens had emerged with a spare bedrooom in Friedrichshain. My new friend Ariane from PAF connected me to a massive 5 bedroom with tons of light and a balcony. So, after one night in the A&O hostel, I manhandled the metro and arrived at Samariterstrasse to meet Arthur. An intense lifesaver. Walking around that place enforced that throwing my coin in the life's fountain does continue to bring fortune, I just have to be patient enough to receive it.
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Unfortunately, little Bessie, my 5 year old Powerbook is slowly failing me and I was unable to connect to the Internet. That news was earth-shattering for me and I had a mild panic attack. I didn't have a phone making the Internet my only way of communicating. This was never an issue, until I was suddenly out of the wire-free country and plopped back within schedules and meeting places did I realize that it can be a necessity. And I was late to meet Joanne for lunch. Arthur gave me clear directions on his map, but I was flustered and cloudy and turned left instead of right and arrived SOMEWHERE. That afternoon won't be forgotten, just stored to remind myself that I do possess raw emotion and hopefully more sensibility.
So so lost.
The next day we hit the flea market on Bohxaneger Strasse and I bought a leather doctor's bag. We sat in the park amongst the unleashed beasts on two and four legs and did some brainstorming on a project.
My first solo day in Berlin needed to begin with errands. My hair oil needed to be replaced because I had to chuck it at Paris Orly. 100 ml... I packed a lunch and begin my morning with coffee and the quest for African hair products in Berlin. Spontaneity is a necessity and the key to life’s thrills and learning, but an impulsive nature can produce foolish and easily prevented sacrifice.
Key city ingredients: lush parks, affordable access to contemporary art, supermarkets with a decent level of variety, good coffee, smiling locals
Warschauer Strasse and the park at the Eastside Gallery
I am enjoying creating my own story. Chapters inked by uncertainty and stress and the rewarding exhale of arrival based on instinctual orientation. Cerebral architecture.
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Digging the relaxed post war vibe. Serene explosion. Dispute on the inside out.
My writing is bursting bits here--confined, but it's happening. I am marveling at the ease at which I've been welcomed into this apartment. I've been trying to not disturb and draw minimal attention to myself.
A new place to work, a new place to work a new place to work a new place to work
After the Eastside Gallery, I took the metro to Tiergarten, Brandenburg gate, the Holocaust memorial. And on my way to the National Gallery to see some Max Beckmann, I found the Bauhaus exhibit and opted for that instead. Art school fantasies.
photos from TAKT open studios and my visit to golden parachutes, next.