curi·ous {Old French curios} Drawn to investigate, prick up the ears, ponder for the sake of pondering. Enticed by mysteriously labeled bottles.
vo·luptu·ary {Late Latin volupturius} A lass devoted to the pursuit of pleasure. An unabashed epicurean, hedonist, libertine, sensualist, lotus-eater.
We hosted a party this weekend and I was quite impressed by the turnout, given the subzero temperatures and inches of lumpy, slick ice (presumably the result of plummeting temps followed by thaw followed by freeze again?) covering the ground. The path carved below, for example, is not stone but thick, gray ice. Which is [...]
“I’m going to take you on The Walk of Boredom.” is how Alfonso introduced our miles of hiking through the snow among the conifers and betulaceae. What he meant was “You and I will create new and splendid memories of one of the more dreaded walks of my childhood.” And so we did. We’ve seen [...]
the point where our U-Bahn line goes underground, stones from our street.
our local Café Einstein on the last Sunday of white wine weather.
buildings in the west: Viktoria Luise Platz, Schoenburg, Charlottenberg.
KaDeVe, the absurd shopping center. Here you can find any foodstuff you can think of, or a wedding suit (as Alfonso did) and then treat [...]
I’ve noticed what seems to catch my picture-making fancy these days are buildings and trees.
There are variations, naturally: leaves and seeds, lobbies and porticos, clouds and fish and water. Atmosphere permitting, the true subject is always light, but practically speaking, mostly it’s buildings and trees, and today is no different.
The building in question [...]
We hiked ten miles today along the Havel river, from Charlottenburg to visit our friend Jochen at the American Academy in Wannsee. My first visit to the Grunewald (Green Wood).
It was a good walk, traipsing through the underbrush of my honey’s childhood, gathering acorns and pondering the invitation to fall into “play” that a natural [...]
The past is never dead. It’s not even past. ~William Faulkner, 1951, Requiem for a Nun.
I woke to the sound of techno and clanging steel. Turns out once a year my street, Fuggerstrasse, hosts the eu’s largest bondage/fetish extravaganza, Folsom Europe!, which delights me to no end because:
a. that would be inescapable Folsom Street, [...]
click to expand.
Above is the silhouette of the Victory statue Siegessäule, the column of which is made of the pieces of the cannons of the defeated enemies of three wars: Denmark, Austria and France, the “Goldelse” ( Golden Lady) of which was made famous by Wim Wender’s Der Himmel Uber Berlin. (I was so moved [...]
Within a modest house, hung from a stately tree, upon which the leaves had just begun their autumnal turning, toiled a diligent and hopeful ecrivantrist, some say is called Lucy Luddite.
All day and all night she snipped and shredded her mountains of oddly-sized European note paper, chopping 22,000 words which fluttered down upon the heads [...]
I’m guided by a signal in the heavens/I’m guided by those birthmarks on my skin/
I’m guided by the beauty of our weapons/First we take Manhattan then we take Berlin.
~ Leonard Cohen
cafe honoring Austrian playwright Joseph Roth, who lived next door. (click to expand)
Its utterly sock-knocking to be back in a proper international landscape after so [...]
Ali flâneur-ing outside Gunter’s atelier.
Beyond the general city-dwelling and snacking, we also enjoyed days delving into the world of European haberdashery. The quest? An ensemble for Monseigneur Rutigliano to marry in. He’s no Beau Brummell, but my man is quiet the dandy in his own way, which made this task a real–though delightful–challenge.
Part of the [...]