...where they will be screening:
1.22.2010
1.21.2010
i trekked utrecht
in a morning, a very cold morning, i took in utrecht. to see each of the sites i wanted to visit, i needed a bicycle. though ambitious, with everything mapped out, i was up for the challenge. i am not accustomed to rising before the sun, but hey, every now and again it's invigorating.
this particular morning i woke up in rotterdam at six am to an unfamiliar techno alarm. i realized where i was and that today would be the grand finale in europe, brushed my teeth, and was out the door. sleepy eyed, and half-awake, i glimpsed at the map, bought my ticket, and jumped on the train to utrecht centraal.
because you need the equivalent of twelve dollars in change to purchase the train ticket, i had a variety of breakfast snacks for the ride there. i ate a glazed donut, sipped down some tasty soymilk, and dozed off for the remainder of the trip. when i arrived, i had to wait a few minutes for the bike rental to open.
i really, really wanted a picture of the gentleman who was operating the bike rental. he just screamed dutch biker. he was sporting the infamous beatles over-the-ear hairdo with a shag of bristly silver hair, wrinkles of wisdom, and tiny wire frame glasses sufficient to see only for someone with such beady eyes. he wore a well tailored light blue lab coat, tarnerished with shop grease, and stood about five feet and two inches tall. his dutch tainted english was raspy and patient. i was enchanted by this guy's style, which seemed to have been frozen sometime in the late sixties. on account of this, i did not think twice about the coaster brake cruiser that he rented me, even though there were thousands of bikes available.
in any case, i left my deposit, told the guy i'd be back in four hours, and rolled my department store cruiser up the little gutter built in adjacent to the stairs for bicycles. with a sense of urgency, a phrase my dad tried to ingrain in my head since i was a child, i pedaled swiftly down the bike lane in the direction of the sun, needing to head due east. as you can see from my route on the map, its not quite as simple as this, as rarely is there a street in a strictly cardinal direction.
it was cold as a cold hell, and i had no idea where i was actually going. this was reminiscient of the alleycat i did when i first moved in milwaukee, only this time i was riding with the sun in my eyes, without my balaclava or the insulation of a shot of jamison and a few pbr's. intuition can be a funny thing when you think you have it.
first on my list was the dom tower, the highest cathedral in the netherlands. it is pretty magnificent; it stands all alone as the rest of the nave was destroyed in a storm a few hundred years ago. this was a nice, easy find to kickoff this architectural scavenger hunt of sorts, and it gave me a certain sense of ignorance to the blistery weather.
i continued to ride for twenty minutes before i realized that i wasn't even really awake yet. you know that feeling when you get out of the shower in the morning in a drafty house and all you want to do is get back into bed? this thought soon overpowered my desire to tour utrecht. as my extremities tingled towards numbness, i began questioning what my options were.
i wasn't thinking so much; it was more like listening as a third party to the quarreling between the left and right hemispheres of my brain. mr. objective thought the best idea was to find the nearest cafe and burrow for warmth. mr. irrational, one stubborn son of a gun, questioned himself, but did not call off the mission. my legs continued a steady cadence waiting for a decision. needless to say, neurons were misfiring, and i was beginning to really wonder if this was the sort of daze that sets in with hypothermia.
i had lost any interest in trying to follow the map, unwilling to stop, favoring the chance that i would soon find some major landmark. at that point, it would make sense to locate where i was, thaw out, and recollect myself. i knew i was in trouble when i got into a labyrinth of a residential complex. all i needed was an open store. it was a white out, snow everywhere in this ghastly part of town, and there wasn't much in the way of businesses.
finally, i found a bus stop with a map. heavens to betsy it had a "you are here" sticker. if you revert to the first photo, i was somewhere around where my wrist would be (if it was pictured). i was several kilometers south of de uithof, the university of utrecht, at the far right. i blew hot air into my hands, told my feet to hang on, and got back on the bicycle, steering with fists curled up inside my inadequate gloves. i focused on keeping the sun to the right and my newfound sense of direction. i finally confirmed i was no longer lost when i saw the stadion galgenwaard ahead on the left. this sign was actually in the harbour of amsterdam, but is fitting for this particular blog.
within minutes there were signs for de uithof. when i reached the university, i locked my bike up to the first pole i saw and scampered into the building, b-lining it towards the bathroom. i jumped into a stall, not for the toilet, but to take off my shoes and socks and revive my feet. my bare feet were bright red; after several minutes, they returned to a normal complexion. after squatting in that stall for about thirty minutes, i went back outside and toured the university on foot.
there are some great buildings here, my favorite being the universiteitsbibliotheek by the dutch architect, wiel arets. it is a beautiful library, both inside and out. with glazed, papyrus stamped concrete, and the same graphic fritted onto the glass, the building has an organic texture on an otherwise very clean and open composition of spaces. the interiors are all black, the floors white, with a stark red upholstery on the furniture and desks. although this seems counter-intuitive in terms of a palette for a library, the spaces were all comfortably (and most naturally) illuminated. a full cover story can be found at on archinect at http://archinect.com/features/article.php?id=92824_0_23_0_M if you want to see more. below is one of my shots taken:
after bridging it over through the mazes of circulation in koolhaas's educatorium, i returned to the base of the bibliotheek for a hot slice of pizza. mmm, mmm, mmmmmm. this hit the spot and established what would be a mood of elation and excellent navigational skills for the remainder of my self-guided tour of utrecht.
on the way back, i visited the double house by mvrdv. i love this project. for those of you who are not aware, the exterior is made of a plywood that is traditionally not used as a building product. it is a process piece, coated with a resin, used for forming concrete, and ultimately disposed of. it allows for a very liberal facade, allowing windows to be placed where light is most needed. beautiful, right?
here's where my experience with bikes could have really helped me out. as i stood across the street photographing, my zoomed in lens caught an elderly gentleman on the first floor, visible behind a glass door, fiddling with something on his bicycle. like a window of opportunity to speak to a compelling girl gone by, i knew this would be a moment i would regret hesitating.
in one heartbeat, it made complete sense. why not introduce myself and see if i could offer some assistance with his bicycle? i justified that aiding his ailing bicycle and lavish praise for his home was a fair exchange for a tour of at least a single portion of the double house interior. in the next, this seemed like an absurd invasion of privacy.
how many perfect strangers came a-knocking on his door, asking to stroll through his house? right hemisphere, "these kudos came all the way from chicago, feasibly with a favor to offer in a time of need!" left hemisphere, "but it could be terribly offensive to suppose an old dutchman needs any help with his bicycle!" damnit, i thought to myself, just do it. this time mr. objective triumphed over my stubborn (and some would say better) half, which at this very minute, is still second guessing the verdict.
i begrudgingly headed back towards utrecht centruum, aware that i was in the right spot at the right time, and squandered the opportunity. even still, i was in a great mood, as the sun came up and raised the temperature to withstandable riding conditions. i passed a few more stops on my map on the trek back, the last one a square adjacent to the late enric miralles's deconstuctivist addition to the city hall, where took the following picture.
in my opinion this department store cruiser against a trash receptacle was a better photograph than his depiction of the monumentality of a medieval room incorporating the diverse conglomerate of residential utrecht...and you wonder why people stereotype architects as a lofty breed?!
this particular morning i woke up in rotterdam at six am to an unfamiliar techno alarm. i realized where i was and that today would be the grand finale in europe, brushed my teeth, and was out the door. sleepy eyed, and half-awake, i glimpsed at the map, bought my ticket, and jumped on the train to utrecht centraal.
because you need the equivalent of twelve dollars in change to purchase the train ticket, i had a variety of breakfast snacks for the ride there. i ate a glazed donut, sipped down some tasty soymilk, and dozed off for the remainder of the trip. when i arrived, i had to wait a few minutes for the bike rental to open.
i really, really wanted a picture of the gentleman who was operating the bike rental. he just screamed dutch biker. he was sporting the infamous beatles over-the-ear hairdo with a shag of bristly silver hair, wrinkles of wisdom, and tiny wire frame glasses sufficient to see only for someone with such beady eyes. he wore a well tailored light blue lab coat, tarnerished with shop grease, and stood about five feet and two inches tall. his dutch tainted english was raspy and patient. i was enchanted by this guy's style, which seemed to have been frozen sometime in the late sixties. on account of this, i did not think twice about the coaster brake cruiser that he rented me, even though there were thousands of bikes available.
in any case, i left my deposit, told the guy i'd be back in four hours, and rolled my department store cruiser up the little gutter built in adjacent to the stairs for bicycles. with a sense of urgency, a phrase my dad tried to ingrain in my head since i was a child, i pedaled swiftly down the bike lane in the direction of the sun, needing to head due east. as you can see from my route on the map, its not quite as simple as this, as rarely is there a street in a strictly cardinal direction.
it was cold as a cold hell, and i had no idea where i was actually going. this was reminiscient of the alleycat i did when i first moved in milwaukee, only this time i was riding with the sun in my eyes, without my balaclava or the insulation of a shot of jamison and a few pbr's. intuition can be a funny thing when you think you have it.
first on my list was the dom tower, the highest cathedral in the netherlands. it is pretty magnificent; it stands all alone as the rest of the nave was destroyed in a storm a few hundred years ago. this was a nice, easy find to kickoff this architectural scavenger hunt of sorts, and it gave me a certain sense of ignorance to the blistery weather.
i continued to ride for twenty minutes before i realized that i wasn't even really awake yet. you know that feeling when you get out of the shower in the morning in a drafty house and all you want to do is get back into bed? this thought soon overpowered my desire to tour utrecht. as my extremities tingled towards numbness, i began questioning what my options were.
i wasn't thinking so much; it was more like listening as a third party to the quarreling between the left and right hemispheres of my brain. mr. objective thought the best idea was to find the nearest cafe and burrow for warmth. mr. irrational, one stubborn son of a gun, questioned himself, but did not call off the mission. my legs continued a steady cadence waiting for a decision. needless to say, neurons were misfiring, and i was beginning to really wonder if this was the sort of daze that sets in with hypothermia.
i had lost any interest in trying to follow the map, unwilling to stop, favoring the chance that i would soon find some major landmark. at that point, it would make sense to locate where i was, thaw out, and recollect myself. i knew i was in trouble when i got into a labyrinth of a residential complex. all i needed was an open store. it was a white out, snow everywhere in this ghastly part of town, and there wasn't much in the way of businesses.
finally, i found a bus stop with a map. heavens to betsy it had a "you are here" sticker. if you revert to the first photo, i was somewhere around where my wrist would be (if it was pictured). i was several kilometers south of de uithof, the university of utrecht, at the far right. i blew hot air into my hands, told my feet to hang on, and got back on the bicycle, steering with fists curled up inside my inadequate gloves. i focused on keeping the sun to the right and my newfound sense of direction. i finally confirmed i was no longer lost when i saw the stadion galgenwaard ahead on the left. this sign was actually in the harbour of amsterdam, but is fitting for this particular blog.
within minutes there were signs for de uithof. when i reached the university, i locked my bike up to the first pole i saw and scampered into the building, b-lining it towards the bathroom. i jumped into a stall, not for the toilet, but to take off my shoes and socks and revive my feet. my bare feet were bright red; after several minutes, they returned to a normal complexion. after squatting in that stall for about thirty minutes, i went back outside and toured the university on foot.
there are some great buildings here, my favorite being the universiteitsbibliotheek by the dutch architect, wiel arets. it is a beautiful library, both inside and out. with glazed, papyrus stamped concrete, and the same graphic fritted onto the glass, the building has an organic texture on an otherwise very clean and open composition of spaces. the interiors are all black, the floors white, with a stark red upholstery on the furniture and desks. although this seems counter-intuitive in terms of a palette for a library, the spaces were all comfortably (and most naturally) illuminated. a full cover story can be found at on archinect at http://archinect.com/features/article.php?id=92824_0_23_0_M if you want to see more. below is one of my shots taken:
after bridging it over through the mazes of circulation in koolhaas's educatorium, i returned to the base of the bibliotheek for a hot slice of pizza. mmm, mmm, mmmmmm. this hit the spot and established what would be a mood of elation and excellent navigational skills for the remainder of my self-guided tour of utrecht.
on the way back, i visited the double house by mvrdv. i love this project. for those of you who are not aware, the exterior is made of a plywood that is traditionally not used as a building product. it is a process piece, coated with a resin, used for forming concrete, and ultimately disposed of. it allows for a very liberal facade, allowing windows to be placed where light is most needed. beautiful, right?
here's where my experience with bikes could have really helped me out. as i stood across the street photographing, my zoomed in lens caught an elderly gentleman on the first floor, visible behind a glass door, fiddling with something on his bicycle. like a window of opportunity to speak to a compelling girl gone by, i knew this would be a moment i would regret hesitating.
in one heartbeat, it made complete sense. why not introduce myself and see if i could offer some assistance with his bicycle? i justified that aiding his ailing bicycle and lavish praise for his home was a fair exchange for a tour of at least a single portion of the double house interior. in the next, this seemed like an absurd invasion of privacy.
how many perfect strangers came a-knocking on his door, asking to stroll through his house? right hemisphere, "these kudos came all the way from chicago, feasibly with a favor to offer in a time of need!" left hemisphere, "but it could be terribly offensive to suppose an old dutchman needs any help with his bicycle!" damnit, i thought to myself, just do it. this time mr. objective triumphed over my stubborn (and some would say better) half, which at this very minute, is still second guessing the verdict.
i begrudgingly headed back towards utrecht centruum, aware that i was in the right spot at the right time, and squandered the opportunity. even still, i was in a great mood, as the sun came up and raised the temperature to withstandable riding conditions. i passed a few more stops on my map on the trek back, the last one a square adjacent to the late enric miralles's deconstuctivist addition to the city hall, where took the following picture.
in my opinion this department store cruiser against a trash receptacle was a better photograph than his depiction of the monumentality of a medieval room incorporating the diverse conglomerate of residential utrecht...and you wonder why people stereotype architects as a lofty breed?!
1.13.2010
bonus round in amsterdam.
ding ding ding! bonus round! what started out as a three country trip became four. continental was gracious enough to let me alter my departure destination, on account of a four day departure postponement due to weather conditions in newark. so this gave me an extra 6 days abroad. i'll take it. why not the netherlands, i thought. bicycles, super dutch architecture, and plenty of vices for the solo traveler.
holy moly amsterdam is no joke. it is a haven for gluttony. not all gluttony is bad, unless perhaps you are a jesuit or some other pleasure represser. my friend marcin, who lives in poland, is neither of the two. i called him up three days before i was scheduled to arrive in amsterdam, and told him of my plans. within a day he was signed up for the trip, plane and hotel reserved. there's something remarkable to be said for impulsiveness.
i arrived a morning and an afternoon ahead of my companion. i decided to get a haircut and some advice from the kapperskademie. i didn't get much advice, but i did get a pretty nice haircut. afterwards, i ventured out to find the newly opened pristine amsterdam fixed gear. i arrived after some basic navigation issues to see the blinds down, and the shop closed. i knew there was a bike polo tournament on the north shore of amsterdam that day, but was banking on someone holding down the shop. not only was this not the case - it didn't open again until tuesday - by which time i would be in rotterdam(nit)!
i hung out for a minute, in hopes the guy working went across the street for a sandwich or out back for a smoke. this proved to be a good idea, as within minutes, a commuter named matt pulled up to the door on an rih. he was interested in where the polo tourny was being held. matt was surprised that i knew this, but even more astonished that i knew about pristine (special thanks to peter from cog magazine).
though i never got to enter the shop, i felt some sense of accomplishment after befriending the dutch equivalent of a hipster. i received a bunch of tips about what to do/avoid and also learned that rih, the storied holland framebuilder's workshop, was in the vicinity. i traded business cards with him and set off to westerstraat.
amsterdam can be a treacherous place to navigate: the streets have a minimum of sixteen letters; the canals, which should help wayfind, are so many and turn so frequently that they serve to confuse as much as guide; and soon, the snow began swarming down in wet, heavy flakes. i stopped in another bicycle repair shop to ensure i was still headed in the general direction. indeed i was - naturally, i arrived ten minutes too late.
even though rih was closed, there were still lights illuminating this and several other beautifully handbuilt track frames. i ooohed and aahed until my camera couldn't withstand any more moisture. soaking wet, i stepped in a grocery to get some snacks and began the six kilometers trek back to the hotel. luckily, i guessed the right tram. now warm and without a need to rush, i was able to take in some of the city.
i gasped when i saw a baby on a pillow literally strapped into a rack on a typical dutch bicycle. though he was wrapped up well, the baby's face was completely red and you could tell he was not a happy camper. what was shocking is that the baby was on the front rack, as might be the case with a bike like this:
this is not an uncommon thing at all in amsterdam; its just the culture. the majority of bicycles are for commuting from point a to point b rather than recreation. because of this, it was rare to see much else parked on the streets then a clunky, old lead-pipe cruiser, either rusty or with its fifth coat of paint, as seen here:
on the other hand you have a catastrophe like this, which is interesting in a grossly over-engineered way. lights built into the top tube? no thank you.
once back at the hotel, i crashed for a few hours until i woke up to the knock of my friend marcin at the door. he had made it! we caught up for a little bit, took showers, and ventured out into the amsterdam night. the precipitation now frozen over, we did our best to stay on two feet. after unsuccessfully trying to find a specific joint, we opted for the spontaneous adventure. we stopped in a couple shops to warm up, cruised around the red light district, and ended up in a taxi on our way back to the hotel after having the best pizza amsterdam has to offer.
the next day we capitalized on post christmas sales at one of countless h&m's in amsterdam. after a blt lunch, we went to grasshopper for an afternoon cocktail. here i proposed renting a bike. i was talked out of it quickly, due to the weather and the ease of walking pretty much wherever. plus, there was an overlying chance that it would get stolen. this was news to me; with so many bicycles, not particularly rare or of any value, who would steal a bike? i mentioned this to someone nearby to confirm/deny this rumor. half-seriously he concurred, saying the lock is more important than the bicycle. in the early evening, i introduced marcin to the vegetarian staple, maoz. we had an incredible falafel and fry combo that was quick and light. we picked up some brownies for dessert, and spent the remainder of the evening discussing the legitimacy of the world's oldest profession.
amsterdam is amazing, but can ultimately be overwhelming. if you have been before and have any sort of conscience, you know exactly what i am talking about. it blows your mind to witness firsthand such a liberal culture, people smoking marijuana on the streets, women selling themselves in windows, multi-level bicycle parking garages. can you imagine trying to find your bike here?
on the other hand, there were abandoned bicycles in various stages of disrepair, streets and sidewalks covered in rubbish and saturated firework remains, and the center's constantly looming with tourists, day and night.
at one point in the trip, i even overheard drunken banter about dumping a bicycle into the canal. i couldn't believe it; fortunately this was not an option as the canals were completely frozen. it would have been fun to toss one of these d-bags in the canal. it made me ponder though, how many more bikes are submerged in the city?
the last day was great. marcin and i finally had a sense of direction, and this time the cold came with a wonderful layer of fresh snow. this skim coat of white disguised some of the grit of the city and gave it a temporary purity. it made me miss my bike.
we spent the afternoon cruising the straats and taking a ton of photos, then found a deliciously, spicy si-chuan restaurant. in the evening, we did some window shopping while entertaining an idea to attend banana bar. if you are curious, look it up. it was enticing, just not my cup of tea. marcin was mildly disappointed at my unwillingness to indulge; nonetheless, we ended the night completely happy enjoying slices of our favorite new york style pizza.
after three days in amsterdam, i was content. i didn't do the museums or the heineken brewery tour. i did check out some architecture my last morning there. after a typical english breakfast and a farewell to marcin, i was back on my own for a couple hours. i visited a few mvdrv projects, arcam, and the best bookstore in amsterdam.
i left with a peculiar amusement for amsterdam. there is certainly an allure to my own personal id, and i can only imagine how it would be in the summer, but is it a place i would like to live? i don't think so. would i go back again? most definitely.
holy moly amsterdam is no joke. it is a haven for gluttony. not all gluttony is bad, unless perhaps you are a jesuit or some other pleasure represser. my friend marcin, who lives in poland, is neither of the two. i called him up three days before i was scheduled to arrive in amsterdam, and told him of my plans. within a day he was signed up for the trip, plane and hotel reserved. there's something remarkable to be said for impulsiveness.
i arrived a morning and an afternoon ahead of my companion. i decided to get a haircut and some advice from the kapperskademie. i didn't get much advice, but i did get a pretty nice haircut. afterwards, i ventured out to find the newly opened pristine amsterdam fixed gear. i arrived after some basic navigation issues to see the blinds down, and the shop closed. i knew there was a bike polo tournament on the north shore of amsterdam that day, but was banking on someone holding down the shop. not only was this not the case - it didn't open again until tuesday - by which time i would be in rotterdam(nit)!
i hung out for a minute, in hopes the guy working went across the street for a sandwich or out back for a smoke. this proved to be a good idea, as within minutes, a commuter named matt pulled up to the door on an rih. he was interested in where the polo tourny was being held. matt was surprised that i knew this, but even more astonished that i knew about pristine (special thanks to peter from cog magazine).
though i never got to enter the shop, i felt some sense of accomplishment after befriending the dutch equivalent of a hipster. i received a bunch of tips about what to do/avoid and also learned that rih, the storied holland framebuilder's workshop, was in the vicinity. i traded business cards with him and set off to westerstraat.
amsterdam can be a treacherous place to navigate: the streets have a minimum of sixteen letters; the canals, which should help wayfind, are so many and turn so frequently that they serve to confuse as much as guide; and soon, the snow began swarming down in wet, heavy flakes. i stopped in another bicycle repair shop to ensure i was still headed in the general direction. indeed i was - naturally, i arrived ten minutes too late.
even though rih was closed, there were still lights illuminating this and several other beautifully handbuilt track frames. i ooohed and aahed until my camera couldn't withstand any more moisture. soaking wet, i stepped in a grocery to get some snacks and began the six kilometers trek back to the hotel. luckily, i guessed the right tram. now warm and without a need to rush, i was able to take in some of the city.
i gasped when i saw a baby on a pillow literally strapped into a rack on a typical dutch bicycle. though he was wrapped up well, the baby's face was completely red and you could tell he was not a happy camper. what was shocking is that the baby was on the front rack, as might be the case with a bike like this:
this is not an uncommon thing at all in amsterdam; its just the culture. the majority of bicycles are for commuting from point a to point b rather than recreation. because of this, it was rare to see much else parked on the streets then a clunky, old lead-pipe cruiser, either rusty or with its fifth coat of paint, as seen here:
on the other hand you have a catastrophe like this, which is interesting in a grossly over-engineered way. lights built into the top tube? no thank you.
once back at the hotel, i crashed for a few hours until i woke up to the knock of my friend marcin at the door. he had made it! we caught up for a little bit, took showers, and ventured out into the amsterdam night. the precipitation now frozen over, we did our best to stay on two feet. after unsuccessfully trying to find a specific joint, we opted for the spontaneous adventure. we stopped in a couple shops to warm up, cruised around the red light district, and ended up in a taxi on our way back to the hotel after having the best pizza amsterdam has to offer.
the next day we capitalized on post christmas sales at one of countless h&m's in amsterdam. after a blt lunch, we went to grasshopper for an afternoon cocktail. here i proposed renting a bike. i was talked out of it quickly, due to the weather and the ease of walking pretty much wherever. plus, there was an overlying chance that it would get stolen. this was news to me; with so many bicycles, not particularly rare or of any value, who would steal a bike? i mentioned this to someone nearby to confirm/deny this rumor. half-seriously he concurred, saying the lock is more important than the bicycle. in the early evening, i introduced marcin to the vegetarian staple, maoz. we had an incredible falafel and fry combo that was quick and light. we picked up some brownies for dessert, and spent the remainder of the evening discussing the legitimacy of the world's oldest profession.
amsterdam is amazing, but can ultimately be overwhelming. if you have been before and have any sort of conscience, you know exactly what i am talking about. it blows your mind to witness firsthand such a liberal culture, people smoking marijuana on the streets, women selling themselves in windows, multi-level bicycle parking garages. can you imagine trying to find your bike here?
on the other hand, there were abandoned bicycles in various stages of disrepair, streets and sidewalks covered in rubbish and saturated firework remains, and the center's constantly looming with tourists, day and night.
at one point in the trip, i even overheard drunken banter about dumping a bicycle into the canal. i couldn't believe it; fortunately this was not an option as the canals were completely frozen. it would have been fun to toss one of these d-bags in the canal. it made me ponder though, how many more bikes are submerged in the city?
the last day was great. marcin and i finally had a sense of direction, and this time the cold came with a wonderful layer of fresh snow. this skim coat of white disguised some of the grit of the city and gave it a temporary purity. it made me miss my bike.
we spent the afternoon cruising the straats and taking a ton of photos, then found a deliciously, spicy si-chuan restaurant. in the evening, we did some window shopping while entertaining an idea to attend banana bar. if you are curious, look it up. it was enticing, just not my cup of tea. marcin was mildly disappointed at my unwillingness to indulge; nonetheless, we ended the night completely happy enjoying slices of our favorite new york style pizza.
after three days in amsterdam, i was content. i didn't do the museums or the heineken brewery tour. i did check out some architecture my last morning there. after a typical english breakfast and a farewell to marcin, i was back on my own for a couple hours. i visited a few mvdrv projects, arcam, and the best bookstore in amsterdam.
i left with a peculiar amusement for amsterdam. there is certainly an allure to my own personal id, and i can only imagine how it would be in the summer, but is it a place i would like to live? i don't think so. would i go back again? most definitely.
1.03.2010
20!0
'tis a new year and i rang this one in with grapes and the company of an old roommate and his super gracious family. i wrote this on a plane and am at last transferring this diary log over to the whole wide world.
the last three days in barcelona, i have done a lot of listening. when you listen but don't comprehend, facial expressions have a lot to say. these are absorbed alongside the constant murmur of my own self-awareness. in this day and age, i am on the super information highway, and my inner monologue seems to be in overdrive; always wanting to interpret, ask what's next, or take meaning out of often times meaningless stimuli.
one's mood typically determines how much stimuli it can or would like to handle. i think thats why we go on vacation, am i wrong? to confront new social equations in bulk but to have the excuse, in certain cases, to simply observe. how does this fare with one's feelings? this hyper awareness - is it a good thing? maybe in a state of endangerment yes, but to be able to relax, and take one's time is a lost art. i don't know that this comes readily to most people, and it seems particularly true with each new generation.
in spain, i felt nostalgia and it was somewhat refereshing. anytime i've taken a transatlantic flight, el prat has found a spot on my itinerary. i say this like i've traveled for years. i wish that was true; however if this bike schtick sustains me to the extent i can do another one next year (what could be the third annual), i will definitely return to barcelona. the oddly comfortable pace that exists is both relaxed and beautiful. it is both real and surreal. it is loud, and it is live.
barcelona is so full of energy; maybe it is the siestas, perhaps the density, maybe its in the blood of catalunyans. a few times during this trip, my friend pau, born in barcelona, ran into old friends. each time he bumped into to someone, they would stop and talk for several minutes. at times, it felt like hours, though it may have been a result of my inability to grasp all or most of what was being said.
what i took from a third person perspective was a degree of eye contact and earnestness in these encounters. do you think social cues have their own language? this is what i was musing about. perhaps i am mistaken in wanting to give the spanish an award for being so patient and personal. i respect this sort of interaction, and wish more of that was present in the united states. if switzerland = simple, then barcelona = genuine.
our generation tends to be routine in conversation. a lack of patience ought to be blamed on the generic nature of speech. dynamic thought is considered too radical so the boundaries of the typical confine too much. new ideas are less comfortable, because they involve change. change is more often used to remedy bad circumstances, not so often to improve good situations. why is this? descramble these words: are, comfort, concerns, immediate, our, able. exactly, you want to know right away. but it's not important to have the answer, because you get the picture.
i felt a desire to regress to an age when life was simpler. i think the world becoming more international is fantastic. it raises awareness, allowing, if not forcing a very healthy introspection. i believe the good in us thrives when forced to communicate without a language. we want to understand, and our face inherently suggests benevolence. unfortunately, this globalization too often takes place behind a monitor, causing a digression from the value of face; there is a tendency now to work the net instead of network; to provide a uniform visage adequate to an entire online community; to create a profile instead of leave an impression.
if you have a personal account online, question to what degree this convenience is worth your while. one day we will become robotically efficient, devoid of emotion, compassion, or inspiration. we will have so much time and money but nothing concrete. the evolution of now has been won. it is time for a revolution even if that means more loss. the ship of human relation has sunk and caused a deep recession. if i could, i would create a social network of enemies, that would someday crush and conquer the synthetic thoughts and impersonalities that populate the internet and infect our generic youth...this is turning into a hypocritical anti-online manifesto.
so anyways, barcelona was great, specifically my last night there. it was a ghost city on the south end of avinguda diagonal. and i had just enough battery left in my camera to get this picture of me on a bicing. it was the crappiest bike i have ever ridden. the gears didn't work, the front wheel was small, and the rear wheel was wobbly. that didn't matter though, because it took me where i wanted to go, and at the time this was all i needed. it was on this bike in a desolate placa del forum that i reflected on what my new year's resolution would be. i devised that this year i would become a better listener, to the people around me, and nearly as, if not more important, to my own core beliefs. bon nadal!
the last three days in barcelona, i have done a lot of listening. when you listen but don't comprehend, facial expressions have a lot to say. these are absorbed alongside the constant murmur of my own self-awareness. in this day and age, i am on the super information highway, and my inner monologue seems to be in overdrive; always wanting to interpret, ask what's next, or take meaning out of often times meaningless stimuli.
one's mood typically determines how much stimuli it can or would like to handle. i think thats why we go on vacation, am i wrong? to confront new social equations in bulk but to have the excuse, in certain cases, to simply observe. how does this fare with one's feelings? this hyper awareness - is it a good thing? maybe in a state of endangerment yes, but to be able to relax, and take one's time is a lost art. i don't know that this comes readily to most people, and it seems particularly true with each new generation.
in spain, i felt nostalgia and it was somewhat refereshing. anytime i've taken a transatlantic flight, el prat has found a spot on my itinerary. i say this like i've traveled for years. i wish that was true; however if this bike schtick sustains me to the extent i can do another one next year (what could be the third annual), i will definitely return to barcelona. the oddly comfortable pace that exists is both relaxed and beautiful. it is both real and surreal. it is loud, and it is live.
barcelona is so full of energy; maybe it is the siestas, perhaps the density, maybe its in the blood of catalunyans. a few times during this trip, my friend pau, born in barcelona, ran into old friends. each time he bumped into to someone, they would stop and talk for several minutes. at times, it felt like hours, though it may have been a result of my inability to grasp all or most of what was being said.
what i took from a third person perspective was a degree of eye contact and earnestness in these encounters. do you think social cues have their own language? this is what i was musing about. perhaps i am mistaken in wanting to give the spanish an award for being so patient and personal. i respect this sort of interaction, and wish more of that was present in the united states. if switzerland = simple, then barcelona = genuine.
our generation tends to be routine in conversation. a lack of patience ought to be blamed on the generic nature of speech. dynamic thought is considered too radical so the boundaries of the typical confine too much. new ideas are less comfortable, because they involve change. change is more often used to remedy bad circumstances, not so often to improve good situations. why is this? descramble these words: are, comfort, concerns, immediate, our, able. exactly, you want to know right away. but it's not important to have the answer, because you get the picture.
i felt a desire to regress to an age when life was simpler. i think the world becoming more international is fantastic. it raises awareness, allowing, if not forcing a very healthy introspection. i believe the good in us thrives when forced to communicate without a language. we want to understand, and our face inherently suggests benevolence. unfortunately, this globalization too often takes place behind a monitor, causing a digression from the value of face; there is a tendency now to work the net instead of network; to provide a uniform visage adequate to an entire online community; to create a profile instead of leave an impression.
if you have a personal account online, question to what degree this convenience is worth your while. one day we will become robotically efficient, devoid of emotion, compassion, or inspiration. we will have so much time and money but nothing concrete. the evolution of now has been won. it is time for a revolution even if that means more loss. the ship of human relation has sunk and caused a deep recession. if i could, i would create a social network of enemies, that would someday crush and conquer the synthetic thoughts and impersonalities that populate the internet and infect our generic youth...this is turning into a hypocritical anti-online manifesto.
so anyways, barcelona was great, specifically my last night there. it was a ghost city on the south end of avinguda diagonal. and i had just enough battery left in my camera to get this picture of me on a bicing. it was the crappiest bike i have ever ridden. the gears didn't work, the front wheel was small, and the rear wheel was wobbly. that didn't matter though, because it took me where i wanted to go, and at the time this was all i needed. it was on this bike in a desolate placa del forum that i reflected on what my new year's resolution would be. i devised that this year i would become a better listener, to the people around me, and nearly as, if not more important, to my own core beliefs. bon nadal!
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