I'm currently in Hong Kong, and will head to Singapore tomorrow. What a city this is; a confluence of Cantonese and English very much in the East, with a slight sprinkling of the West.
Monday, September 30, 2013
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
I've used up my monthly budget for books, and other printed matter. For all my embrace of the digital world and its instant communication, I still revel in purchasing a hefty stack of print journals and magazines, and devouring them–page by page–on the balcony each weekend. And the undertaking of this action is all the more enjoyable if the summer sun is high in the sky, and it's not. Which means that I have just a few more weeks of sunlight on the weekends to illuminate the pages, before I duck back indoors for the autumn and winter seasons, riffling through the pages on the comfort of my wonderfully oversized couch.
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
On certain days, like today, I set aside time to escape from the swirl of events, people, emotions, and commotions of the hours, and reconnect with the natural world outside that's always around me. Similar to the physical dichotomy contained within public institutions, whose spaces in this city straddle interior and exterior–covered courtyard and formal gardens, in this instance–I too am an odd duel-pronged entity; reveling in my independence, yet constantly connected to the unseen that lies just outside my front door. And so connect with natural order I did today, while lunching alongside a canal, observing every passer and passing by, as the world waltz passed, and the energies surrounding me calmed. I leave for Hong Kong in 48 hours, and am looking forward to frolicking alongside the city's beaches, which lie at the edge of its sub-tropic jungles. Though, Hong Kong clearly has nothing on the garden of the FOAM, luscious and formal as they are.
Monday, September 23, 2013
Thursday, September 19, 2013
I'm learning that I'm quite the fierce soul; I just reside in an unassuming body, which thankfully looks quite nice–a feat that requires true effort to maintain (by constantly running countless kilometers around and within Amsterdam's streets, pathways, and parks). Lately, I am shifting the ways in which I communicate verbally, to reflect the ways in which I communicate through my writing, which can be quite powerful and emotionally charged, informing all modes of persuasion. I am in the midst of transforming myself, re-sculpting the elements of my psyche that work, while replacing other parts of it that no longer suit my life's progression, just like the this square in Oud-Zuid.
Thursday, September 5, 2013
Having lived in Düsseldorf, Germany, in 2008, I'm no stranger to all things German. In fact, I can partially read the language when seen on signs and advertisements, and my newly acquired knowledge of the Dutch language has helped with that significantly, too. The German national elections are in a few weeks, and naturally the political signs featuring (a very chic looking, might I add) Angela Merkel were everywhere; whoever created her marketing campaigns this year, at least those in the center of the German capital, must have been paying attention to Virginia Postrell's positions on 'glamour'; Angie appeared approachable due to her smile, distant because she wasn't peering into the camera, yet humble enough to succeed in leading that nation's future. I'm not sure how I'd vote should I be German, but Angie's colored pant suits are a nice change from the everyday black and navy blue suits worn by most male politicians. The city of Berlin itself, however, is not glamourous. It is instead a jungle of concrete and steel, but not in the same way that New York City is; rather, Berlin screams with a screech as the trains of its U-Bahn snakes and crawls its way above and under the city, its rusted and turn of the nineteenth century infrastructure every omnipresent. The city has an energy, that's for sure, but that same energy won't encourage productivity–Berlin is a city for relaxing within, for spending ample amounts of time, and evenings, or even whole nights–watching the sunrise while dancing the night away, as I did last weekend, at Panorama bar–with friends; it's a city for riding bikes, for enjoying the mosaic of history overlaid on the grid that its modern inhabitants continue to extend, recreate, and infill. Berlin is always on the move, and it is a city that's always changing–but never, ever, too quickly. This city needs time for one to truly understand. Even today, after months spent in the city, I am still only an observer.
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
The sunlight tends toward the serene these days, as it dances and glitters upon the city's sidewalks, parks, and streets, bursting through gaps in-between tree branches and leaves, twinkling in every direction. The same leaves allowing for this frolicking of sunlight are beginning to saunter the the ground, serenading back to their former home above, on their way down. Autumn is near.