Week 64

I think today it’s one day closer to the moment in which I’ll finally admit it’s time to go back to Sarajevo. 

And fight the ghosts.

I’ve been working for the whole weekend (and I’m not even done yet = dissatisfaction and grumpiness). I’ve made one million lists of things I need/want to do. As expectations may be too high, watching the last episode of Game of Thrones is my top priority, for now.

Week 62

FIRST of all: welcome home, black bike. 

SECOND. Pretend you’re hanging out just like anyone else.

What a happy scene. But, memo: 2 days in ://about blank 

( ↓ aww ↑ )

Baby Berghain sleep. 

In the background: Karnival der Kulturen, but it didn’t fit my hangover, so I just took one pic. This one. 

THIRD: The (fuckingamazing) Swans. 

END OF THE MONTH: BONUS PIC

May 1993. This is me 20 years ago. Eating a delicious paintbrush and looking smart.

Week 61

Back in Berlin. Damn, it feels good. Maybe even because I didn’t work since the 1st of May. 

I developed some pictures and I’m quite happy (of my dirty scans).

SERIES 1 Illuminated signs.

SERIES 2 Renée

SERIES 3 Gnomes day // gnomes night

SERIES 4 Richard eating ice cream // Frog holding something

Went to see KVB at N.K. (awesome venue) 

Week 60

DAY 1

Tegel 5 am. Hammock 10 am.

At my grandma’s ❤

Olimpia & Gaia. Keeping those teenagers busy.

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Home is where the trees have eyes.  

My mum put those eyes there to keep my brother from climbing trees (epic branch break fail and consequent hospital).

Parenting: “The tree will watch you, now”. My brother is 14 and he’s still scared to death of trees. 

But hey, I’m home. This is gonna be bucolic. I used to hate the countryside. I used to hate to be cut off from everything. But today solitude is bliss, as some hipsters sing. Actually my sister’s here, but the rest of the family will come from Rome only tomorrow. And now: Ca’ del vento, countryside, Italy.

Nobody can see you if you lay hidden under this mega red poppies. 

Oh, there’s a pes in my garden. 

Night: Forlì. Back in time with Elona, Piero and Marco. Some things never change. 

DAY 2

 I observed my room. What was with all that pink? Jeez. 

Eew. Like impossible to take off.

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Still proud of my golden bear, though.

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Went to see the Low in Bologna. Me and Elona togedaaaa. uhuhu. Driving. Lowcore. 

Well you could always count on your friends to get you high. That’s right.

DAY 3

Holy food.  Everyone has arrived. If the previous pictures were bucolic, get ready for the following massive italian cliché. I had no idea we could be like this. I think we reached “level: maximum italian stereotype” this weekend. But it was a special occasion, so maybe it’s ok.

Sista + Leo + Dog.

My aunt and my uncle live in front of us. Note: we’re are not eating like this all the time. 

In my family, men are cooking.

Passatelli. Recipe? Here.

Homemade – homemade – everything is homemade. 

Spinach and ricotta ravioli.

Break before the dessert(s). I actually forgot to take a picture of the roast beef with potatoes, because I was to focused eating it.

Bingo bongo. You dog stay away.

The awkward cousin/siblings picture. Becoming one of my favorite moments. I think we’re getting better and better.

(And, I rule them all).

Ok. Food again.

Torta di riso. Quite long to make, but one of my favorite. Recipe? Here.

Le peschine all’alchermes! It’s not a fruit: this thing here is the most delicious biscuit EVER.  

Ice cream vanilla & caramel. Lick lick lick. 

Leo, grandpa, grandma. Respect all generations ☀

Still not satisfied, I wanted to eat at least one piadina before leaving. So, me and Elona drove to Faenza to eat it.

We found this first. 

Then: 

This is where we found it. Drunk like this.

DAY 4

People going back to Rome. 

My sister staying in Imola. Me going back to Berlin. 

I actually like my nomadic family.