Do you have THESE friends?
Toast. Is there any comfort food easier to make?
Tag Archives: Friends
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 50
Developed some old photos. Light blue series.
My office moved to Wedding, and that’s probably the biggest news of this week.
That green chair, that’s my spot.
Week 38
PULLING. THEM. OFF.
KICK-ASS RAVIOLI
LUKAS AND CHLOÊ
It’s the first week of the new year. The sun is currently in the middle of an active phase of its 11-year solar weather cycle. The current cycle is called Solar Cycle 24 and is expected to peak in 2013. Meanwhile, I’m embarking on my future of living lavish and glorious.
Week 36
Christmas time: my least favorite of the year!
But I’m leaving Berlin knowing this super hot hot blonde babe might be moving here soon. Fingers crossed.
I usually never want to go home, but this time it was different. And I enjoyed it all.
Finally seeing mt BFF. Who doesn’t like pictures. Elona I love you.
Christmas time. Awkward Family Photos time.
Grandpa & Grandma
Il gioco dei pacchi ritorna con furore.
Paolo Ricci Bitti, capofamiglia.
Gaia, Olimpia, Nicolò
Valentina, Filippo, Olimpia
Especially this one: grandma out of control.
Just for the record, I’m the oldest and I rule them all.
Leonardo, 1 year and a half old.
Week 31 – Zinefest
Went to Zinefest.
*A zine is a self-published, small circulation, non-commercial booklet or magazine, usually produced by one person or a few individuals.
http://www.undergroundpress.org/pdf/Zines101.pdf
I’m in love with these three.
MARY, CHLOÊ, VERA
Week 21
Pensai a un mondo senza memoria, senza tempo; considerai la possibilità d’un linguaggio di verbi impersonali o di indeclinabili epiteti. Così andarono morendo i giorni e coi giorni gli anni, ma qualcosa simile alla felicità accadde una mattina. Piovve, con lentezza possente.
I imagined a world without memory, without time; I toyed with the possibility of a language that had no nouns, a language of impersonal verbs or indeclinable adjectives. In these reflections many days went by, and with the days, years. Until one morning, something very much like joy occurred – the sky rained slow, strong rain.
The Immortal, from The Aleph & Other Stories by Georges Luis Borges.
Week 19 – Hamburg
Already drunk: check
Good morning hangover. We are ready for our weekend. Uhuhuh new flea markets to explore.
Neverending brunch at Café Klatsch.
PLASTIC
Hamburger Hafen: circles.
Hamburger Hafen: vertical lines.
Heart skips a beat. Double exposures.
We left Viola and Rob in Hamburg, they will head to Rostok tomorrow.
We are going back to Berlin. 5 hours, no seats, but only 40 euros total.
I am not sure, but, despite the fun, I think I felt that. My nerves were stretched to the breaking point. I think it’s the first time in my life. I have no idea what to do to make things better.
Week 18
(Looking back at this blog post, I’ve decided to add pictures from the entire month: it seemed like a good idea to publish them together. I can’t believe all these people where here at the same time).
So, new arrivals in town.
Gigi and Pedro. They biked here.
Brennero – Hall – Wolfratshausen – Landshut – Straubling – Bodenwohr – [Numberg – Leipzig]* – Berlin: 860 Km, 9 days.
*train. It was raining too much, they said.
Photographic evidence stolen from Pedro’s twitter:
Afternoon at the Hamburger Bahnhof.
People in a line, giant smurfs and gambette.
Ah-ah. Molto bello.
Dammi i Colori (transcript)
Tirana, Albania.
“The city was dead. It looked like a transit station where one could stay only if waiting for something. It looked like a body that kept growing silently older where all the turbulence of the riots and the events that occurred took place as if in an alien setting. It swallowed up everything without being affected. This is a question of finding out how this city can become habitable and how to transform it from a city where you are doomed to live by fate into a city where you choose to live. The colour was a process that made it possible to experience time as a common element.
“All this landscape modified through the use of colour is a landscape that reflects the decades-long debasement of the individual through the indifference of the state. The question here is that colour has also another role: it must bind together all the volumes that have been brutally and individually added to the original surface, not by the hand of an artist but by the anonymous hands of the residents who have had to expand their living space, and who normally when building their balconies, or in adding another floor or a shop, were not concerned that the form that would be created by their brutal action should be in harmony with the form that would be created as a result of the violation of the building surface by the neighbour, or the neighbour of the neighbour. It is not a matter of what colour you may want to have the balcony painted; it is not a matter of what colour you may want this or that building, because that would be a question of trying to add up all the tastes and find the golden mean, which would be a grey.
“What we have done is not an outcome of democratisation but more an avant-garde of democratisation. This is rather a process that precedes and co-travels with the democratisation of this country, this community, than a process that is closed in itself, and which sets a model. This does not mean that it should also happen to other cities. It does not mean either that other cities should envy this city. It would make no sense for this to be in a city that establishes communication and relationships with people in other ways quite natural and satisfactory for them. This is the difference.
“Colour has an impact on the intensification of the rhythm of breathing, the breaking of a dust screen, and the creation of a new era for the city. There is a paradox here because it is the poorest country in Europe, rife with problems, and I do not think there is any other country in Europe, be it the richest, where people discuss so passionately and collectively about colours. The hottest discussion in the coffee bars, in homes, in the streets, was what are the colours doing to us?
“I think that the ambition to make this city a city of choice and not of destiny is a utopia in itself. I think that a city where things develop normally might wear colours as a dress, not have them as organs. In a way, colours here replace the organs, they are not part of the dress. That kind of city would wear colours like a dress or like a lipstick. I do not know how it is for others, but the relationship between the mayor and his elector is like the relationship between an artist and the spectator. It is a very stressful relationship, it’s a daily effort under people’s very eyes which after all, aims at people’s hearts. The colours I use are no longer an element or a frustrating presence within four walls that come back to me with the idea whether it is worthwhile painting at all today, if my painting makes any sense, if it makes sense that I have settled in a foreign capital and paint. Who am I to paint and why should I paint rather than do something else instead? What is important to me is that I am done with this debate. I am not interested in it any more. I do not deem it necessary to respond to these questions.
“Take some red colour from the car’s break light and throw it out in the dark, it looks nice.”
—-
Fried bananas at YAAM.
New new arrival: Dani!
New entry: Cate!
Lufthansa lost Caterina and Daniela’s luggage. Thanks to this, we’re friends now. Caterina is also staying for a month, but, if she finds a job, she’ll move here.
#Berlin Burgers Series: Burger Meister, good, amazing chilicheese fries, take them, but don’t take the Tofu burger.
—
The guy who was afraid of vomit.
“CONTRAST”
Stolen pics from a common dropbox
Marco is also here!
Gigi was the last one to leave. Celebrating his glorious departure with a customized frappuccino.
3 Pictures a Week 