i am the storm. i am the wonder.
1 advice: skip this & scroll down.
1 morning run into the cold
winter solstice/feast of lights//julfest/korochun/meán geimhridh/christmas....
the wish to be a serigraph of a. warhol
R states that i reflect myself constantly in extraordinary proportions. do i have to worry that i am [despite all that self doubt] a self-centered megalomaniac? or isn't it a sign that i ain't just satisfying my basic needs and try to figure out [mhm, nice phrasing, literally] what separates me from other mammals? hell, i am a scholar of deconstructivism after all...!
...no, its not about you and the sun today.
if i have that here mentioned last wish for this ending year, than it is to take another [the last, i need a new concept!] glance at this spinning wheel, the circulating orbit, the never permanent, the always borrowed & blue every me...
...many things not mentioned on that pseudo-scientific list, such as: dyslexia. especially in terms of directionality a true problem since my childhood: what means left, what means right, what is east or west, top or bottom, if i am constantly circling [around the world, around the same issues, around myself] like a greek wedding dance?
what j. butler calls performativity, the constant repetition of norms to produce a meaning, turned into the statement backtracking to move forward at some point in my case. [appendix: meager veda of a graduate. just realized that this sounds very much like back to the future. and i thought i was unique!]
- done again, on friday. my place still crammed with boxes my parents stored whilst my sister was (mis-)using the appartment: accidentally they brought some of my old youth stuff from the cellar too. yeah, exactly from the era starting with the last week mentioned radio programme, ending with my first big journey through europe '97: berlin, amsterdam, london, dublin, paris, you name it. and whilst i don't even dare to open old letters from that time, as my embarrassment threshold is pretty low, i definitely go through the pictures....
...looking at myself sitting in my ivory tower of desperation at a indigo painted desk back in steyr, the other place where i grew up, surrounded by my b/w pictures and weird pencil paintings i did on my walls with 17, i immediately hear myself listening to weird [back then still so-called] jungle&goa, see myself drinking far too much red bull too call myself a vegetarian....
...pathetic but true: whilst i admittedly took pictures on cemeteries with 17 as well as with 27 [just because i like to roam through a silent atmosphere], i wonder if i'd still flip the bird towards a crucifix with...lets say 38...like i rebelliously did with 15?! [and no. this picture definitely stays unpublished, just like the one where one couldn't tell me apart from a white wall]
summa summarum: same eye make up. same political attitude. still able to dance/read/write whole weeks through. but more fun, more friends, more sophisticated taste in shoes, clothes and interior design, not such bad grades in english anymore (?!) - and now i can even do some simple calculus!
e.g.: for approx. 60 biscuits like my great-grand-mother did them at this time of the year, i need 10.5oz flour, 7oz butter, 3.5oz sugar, 2 egg yolks, 1tablespoon milk, vanilla, 0.2oz grated nutmeg. of course i work fast to combine all the ingredients to a shortcrust, let it rest before i shape the cookies, then bake them for 8 mins at 400°F. i cover them with rose hip jam and an icing of half a lemon, mixed with sugar to a smooth paste and sprinkle pieces of unsalted pistachios on top.
if mimi, my ancestor, knew of the euphoriant and energizing impact of nutmeg and rose hip? - i for sure know why i always loved them, why they turn out to be the only cookies i make this year.
...and before the shooting star shaped cookies get a chance to turn into crumbs in their box, me and my house boys had them with coffee on dec 24 after eating the [un]traditional fasten soup, after taking a walk into an overwhelming japanese-style gelid sunset, before the cooking marathon, the intentional wrong-singing, the too-much-red wine-until-the-morning-drinking, the feast of lights: celebrating another full moon, signifying that days are getting longer again, and with that: depressions and uncontrolled blog-writing hopefully stops soon [!!].
for those celebrating this turnabout from darkness to wonder, i scatter some of those last sternschnuppen throughout the world, encouraging the fruition of your hopes & wishes.
...i ate 12 at least, one for each upcoming new month, although maybe only with one wish on mind.
feliz navidad, near & dear ones, old & young, and all that jazz...
1 morning run into the cold
winter solstice/feast of lights//julfest/korochun/meán geimhridh/christmas....
the wish to be a serigraph of a. warhol
R states that i reflect myself constantly in extraordinary proportions. do i have to worry that i am [despite all that self doubt] a self-centered megalomaniac? or isn't it a sign that i ain't just satisfying my basic needs and try to figure out [mhm, nice phrasing, literally] what separates me from other mammals? hell, i am a scholar of deconstructivism after all...!
...no, its not about you and the sun today.
if i have that here mentioned last wish for this ending year, than it is to take another [the last, i need a new concept!] glance at this spinning wheel, the circulating orbit, the never permanent, the always borrowed & blue every me...
...many things not mentioned on that pseudo-scientific list, such as: dyslexia. especially in terms of directionality a true problem since my childhood: what means left, what means right, what is east or west, top or bottom, if i am constantly circling [around the world, around the same issues, around myself] like a greek wedding dance?
what j. butler calls performativity, the constant repetition of norms to produce a meaning, turned into the statement backtracking to move forward at some point in my case. [appendix: meager veda of a graduate. just realized that this sounds very much like back to the future. and i thought i was unique!]
- done again, on friday. my place still crammed with boxes my parents stored whilst my sister was (mis-)using the appartment: accidentally they brought some of my old youth stuff from the cellar too. yeah, exactly from the era starting with the last week mentioned radio programme, ending with my first big journey through europe '97: berlin, amsterdam, london, dublin, paris, you name it. and whilst i don't even dare to open old letters from that time, as my embarrassment threshold is pretty low, i definitely go through the pictures....
...looking at myself sitting in my ivory tower of desperation at a indigo painted desk back in steyr, the other place where i grew up, surrounded by my b/w pictures and weird pencil paintings i did on my walls with 17, i immediately hear myself listening to weird [back then still so-called] jungle&goa, see myself drinking far too much red bull too call myself a vegetarian....
...pathetic but true: whilst i admittedly took pictures on cemeteries with 17 as well as with 27 [just because i like to roam through a silent atmosphere], i wonder if i'd still flip the bird towards a crucifix with...lets say 38...like i rebelliously did with 15?! [and no. this picture definitely stays unpublished, just like the one where one couldn't tell me apart from a white wall]
summa summarum: same eye make up. same political attitude. still able to dance/read/write whole weeks through. but more fun, more friends, more sophisticated taste in shoes, clothes and interior design, not such bad grades in english anymore (?!) - and now i can even do some simple calculus!
e.g.: for approx. 60 biscuits like my great-grand-mother did them at this time of the year, i need 10.5oz flour, 7oz butter, 3.5oz sugar, 2 egg yolks, 1tablespoon milk, vanilla, 0.2oz grated nutmeg. of course i work fast to combine all the ingredients to a shortcrust, let it rest before i shape the cookies, then bake them for 8 mins at 400°F. i cover them with rose hip jam and an icing of half a lemon, mixed with sugar to a smooth paste and sprinkle pieces of unsalted pistachios on top.
if mimi, my ancestor, knew of the euphoriant and energizing impact of nutmeg and rose hip? - i for sure know why i always loved them, why they turn out to be the only cookies i make this year.
...and before the shooting star shaped cookies get a chance to turn into crumbs in their box, me and my house boys had them with coffee on dec 24 after eating the [un]traditional fasten soup, after taking a walk into an overwhelming japanese-style gelid sunset, before the cooking marathon, the intentional wrong-singing, the too-much-red wine-until-the-morning-drinking, the feast of lights: celebrating another full moon, signifying that days are getting longer again, and with that: depressions and uncontrolled blog-writing hopefully stops soon [!!].
for those celebrating this turnabout from darkness to wonder, i scatter some of those last sternschnuppen throughout the world, encouraging the fruition of your hopes & wishes.
...i ate 12 at least, one for each upcoming new month, although maybe only with one wish on mind.
feliz navidad, near & dear ones, old & young, and all that jazz...
mironja - 26. Dec, 08:59
