I'm very serious about this race between education and catastrophe. I'm very serious about the connection between critical thinking and consciousness. I'm very serious about dim sum and laughter and not taking this whole thing so very seriously.
// August 19th, 2007 // No Comments » // Travel
The Last 48 Hours Of Single-Handedly Rocking Istanbul Has Been So Damn Incredible It Deserves To Be Capitalized. I Just Traveled Between Two Continents, Danced To Midnight Reggae On A Roof Terrace Cityscape, And Saw A Throne Taken From A Moghul Emperor Defeated In The 16th Century. It’s 32 Degrees And I’m Fairly Sure I Will Be Watching The Sun Set From The Hotel Pool Overlooking The Sea Of Mamara.
// June 15th, 2007 // 2 Comments » // Art, Music & Poetry, Travel
And
For no reason
I start skipping like a child
AndFor no reason
I turn into a leaf
That is carried so high
I kiss the Sun’s mouth
And dissolve
AndFor no reason
A thousand birds
Choose my head for a conference table,
Start passing their
Cups of wine
And their wild songbooks all around
AndFor every reason in existence
I begin to eternally
To eternally laugh and love!
When I turn into a leafAnd start dancing,
I run to kiss our beautiful Friend
And I dissolve in the Truth
That I Am.
// April 24th, 2006 // 3 Comments » // My Personal Journey, Travel
“Yesterday slipped away, it cannot be filled anymore with meaning. About tomorrow nothing is known. But this day, today, is yours, make use of it.” – Anon.
Recently, I passed a milestone- 25 years, the quarter century. And this milestone was marked with some celebration. It was a most perfect day and one I will happily recount when further quarters fall and I stop to take stock of where I once stood.
My first morning in Berlin marked this anniversary but the days roll into one series of experiences and I recount them as so. We were staying with one of Monika’s childhood friends; a most interesting character and protagonist upon his own stage- a Vietnamese German, Artist and Designer- Troung “Wicked Tao” Ngu. A softly spoken man with a reservation in his face that tells me he is trying to judge whether those around him are any saner then he. He seems to be of his art and I will say no more than I was most grateful for his company, connections and the platform upon which he offered us his Berlin.
I have already written some of the Rain and Fire, the darker times that began the downfall of Berlin’s cultural heart in Nazism. Of the jail that was East Berlin under the German Democratic Republic, I know little but hear the grip of Socialist Realism pressed harder here, clipping the wings from the precious bird of creation and drowning the daughter of beauty.
But this is already long ago for many and Berlin is in its cultural Spring. Life is burgeoning from the cafe’s and art houses that line so many streets. Each individual seems a pronounced expression and one imagines many of these walking canvasses are the pinnacle of their own creation. From the Indy fashion chic, to the self-aware artiste, to the punks and their remarkably pleasant dogs, the Berliners seem a different kind of German- a sentiment they seem happy to reinforce.
Icon’s, like the Tacheles I visited, are abundant here. These institutions seem to grow and change with the new life, to be reincarnated in the next manifestation of cool and culture. From institutions to individuals fullness can be felt, in so many dreams and discussions art is brewing. It is a naivety that takes on a seriousness- so different from the serious masquerading as the naive that we find in so much of Western Europe.
Some post 30′s I met, mentioned that Berlin was already gone, or going fast. Perhaps it is, or has, but the flame here is stronger and less fragile than these early moths might fear. What is now, stands unique and will fuel the hearts and minds of generations yet. But true, nothing can match the space and simple opportunity provided by reunificaiton; in which huge swathes of East Berlin were abandoned as people rushed West leaving ground for those who wished to sit and wonder why and what if, and all the art in the world that follows.
I saw three sides of music here. I vibed with Bonobo, one of my favorite down-tempo DJs, as he threw down an incredible subterranean set. I watched the launch of the electro-metal experience of Shaka Ponk and thought back 10 years when I would have been moshing in the middle, all blue haired and swathed in band rags. And I went to a “funky club” in a tower overlooking East Berlin- and felt the empty smell of money.
I ate incredibly well- like UN well. Vietnamese-Japanese fusions, top-range Italian, delicious doners, it was all there and to be had and so it was consumed with nothing less than a smile and the slightly awed expression of someone who just doesn’t eat this well. Damn.
And of course I wandered the streets, blessed with a girlfriend who doesn’t think I’m crazy for not taking photos of the Brandenburg gate or the Reichstag, but stopping before every second tree in search of that perspective where the simple beauty of entwined branches against the blue yields us a precious glimpse into the perfection of reality that lies below. To share in this freedom is truly beautiful.
And so this milestone was filled upon every surface with pleasure and happiness, such as can only be known with the full sun upon your back, glowing within your heart and standing by your side.
I have yet to rest a while by this stone and take stock of where this path has lain and where it now finds itself; this vast field of desire and despair, life and longing, tragedy and transcendence- a wonderful rhyme in an ancient tongue that I’m slowly beginning to comprehend.
// April 18th, 2006 // No Comments » // Travel, World Issues
Friday afternoon, 14th of April 2006, a quarter century after my birth. Cloudcover masks the sky as Monika and I beat our way through the wind and rain across the Bebelplatz in Berlin. The Humboldt University, St Hedwigs Cathedral and the German State Opera flank the paved square.
I steal a glance through a narrow gap between the umbrella, which is wedged at a horizontal into the wind, and the rainsoaked pavings. A small plastic window comes into my acute view- the only landmark in this open area.
“This is where the Nazi’s burned the books in ’33″, Monika tells me. May 10, 1933; Nazi youth groups burned around 20,000 books from the Humboldt University and the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft; including works by Thomas Mann, Erich Maria Remarque, Heinrich Heine, Karl Marx and H.G. Wells.
The rain sinks deeper into my coat. I’m lost in a vision of a dark night, of rain and fire, black smoke and echoing anthems.
I peel back the black and return to the grey, now staring through the plastic window into an almost featureless chamber below- a underground chamber cloaked in an off white, featureless except it is lined with massive bookshelves. Rows and rows of empty bookshelves. They are not graves, they are not remains, they are not even nothing- they are lost.
Another couple battle across the square and look into the chamber below. “It’s beautiful” says the American woman. I don’t know if she doesn’t get it or even if it could be beautiful. I feel revulsion. I want to get away and think about how it could happen- how a civilisation can destroy its essential treasure, its value, it’s offering to the future. I want to think about why this touches me more than murder.
“Dort, wo man Bücher verbrennt, verbrennt man am Ende auch Menschen“, “Where they burn books, they will end in burning human beings.” Heinrich Heine, Almansor, 1821.
// February 28th, 2006 // No Comments » // Travel
This morning it’s snowing just like it used to in 1642.
Photo from Monty Taylor’s Project Amsterdam Snow.
// December 5th, 2005 // No Comments » // Travel
It’s Finally Final. I will be touching down in Sydney this Saturday morning. I will be flying via Tokyo, but really I think it’s been an elongated trip home after leaving the Netherlands over four months ago. Rotterdam to Sydney via Budapest, Cairo, Alexandria, Brussels, Bonn, Hanover, Rotterdam, Praha and Brno. I hear the bells calling me back- the ships to the shore. I long to see my family, my city, my friends, my Yum Cha restaurants. Beaches. Sweet, sweet Sydney Summer.
Three wonderful weeks Oz-side before I begin the 2006 Amsterdam Experience!
For all those heading home for the upcoming holidays- and by upcoming holidays I am of course referring to the Zoroastrian celebration of Divine Spirit Vohu Manah. As the Sages teach us- May your inflight movie not involve Paulie Shaw and your meal refrain from undercooked fish, chicken or pork. May you travel on an Asian or Gulf Airline where subservience and hospitality co-mingle with piles of untaxed cash. And may the universe conspire to deliver you safely to your loved ones. PEACE.
// December 2nd, 2005 // 1 Comment » // Travel
Around the world there are a couple of houses so incredible that they become institutions of their time. I lived in one such house in Ditton Avenue, Jo’burg; between ten and fifteen people from all over the world whose various journeys crossed paths in the surreal experience of living together. This morning I woke up in another one- unsure of how exactly I got there. Club Andel is a trainee house in Praha, an institution no less. Various generations of the residents have left their mark and messages upon the walls as testament to their countless adventures here, a combination of emotion and scandal that a year in Praha certainly offers.
Anyway, enough context. As I said I woke up unsure of exactly how I got there. Last night I was partying with some Club residents- and partying in proper Czech style. Now I’ve been living in Egypt for a while and Egypt falls on the opposite end of the beer spectrum, so the effect of several delightfully delicious beverages was somewhat amplified. When I awoke I had to begin the process of regeneration starting with a long hot bath and the search for terrible food. One of the Club residents returned home and regaled me with a story of the previous evening. Apparently (and in accordance to some vague memories I’ve managed to keep) I burst into his bedroom at around 5:30 AM and started looking around on the floor. Startled, he asked me what I was looking for. I replied, and I quote myself here, “I’m searching for the connection between Socialism and Materialism”. He replied that he didn’t think I would find that right now. I shrugged, chuckled to myself and responded, “Don’t worry man, Ill be quieter than Socialism ever was” before bowing and leaving the room.
This wasn’t a topic of conversation, in fact I don’t think I’ve ever thought about this before, or at least not in those terms, so now I find myself provoked by myself to even contemplate an answer, thus fulfilling my early morning inebriated prophecy. Life is hilarious, cyclic and wonderful. And now… A tram party.
// December 1st, 2005 // 1 Comment » // Travel
Praha is an old Czech fairy tale I’ve never read but have always somehow understood. A dream actualised against all probability, I can only float in pure awe and wonder as I lie emersed in this other-worldly magnificence. I am filled with happiness to know this place exists and I have begun to experience it. What a world we share!
Many thanks for the kindness and hospitality of LC Praha and the Czech MC.
“Youth is happy because it has the ability to see beauty. Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old.”- Franz Kafka.
// November 2nd, 2005 // No Comments » // Travel
I’ve been living very nicely in my North-African abode, fronting the Mediterranean and contemplating the metaphysics of ancients. I would use the world hermit, except hermits don’t usually go in for weekends partying in Africa’s biggest city- Cairo. Nonetheless, compared to the previous years things have been pretty sedentary.
Until today that is, the second of November and anniversary of the maiden flight of the Spruce Goose, when I was told that the next stage in applying for a position I’ve been after is an interview in the fare city of Amsterdam. This put me into a spin.. A spin only to be redoubled when later today it turned out that I would be chairing a leadership conference in Germany around this date and would thus need to leave even sooner. In less than a week the Wonders of Egypt will fall into a kindly kept memory and high held hope of return.
Copyright © 2010 reframe. All rights reserved.
