Come 5th January 2017, I’ll have made 9 months in Germany. Though I call Göttingen my home, I spend a considerable percentage of my time in Aachen – a city I’ll write about soon – or elsewhere, making Göttingen feel not completely familiar or home-like. In October 2016, I moved from Kreuzbergring to Göttingen’s Innenstadt. … Continue reading Fresh from the Womb
Tag: Europe
“…Your life, little fireling, little warlike starling, flickering indignantly, all erotic umbrage. Broken wing in my hand. Pathological, shy flame, I will care for you. Little shape of my fate, my certain failure. What is desire, if not this burden. Dearth and glut cupped in your hands: wild, deadheaded, and blue.” The Sunlight, Miguel Murphy. … Continue reading Villa Popov & Balchik (Балчик)
[Writing isn’t easy to forget. And writing doesn’t need a paper. Balconies illustrate this perfectly. When I stand at it, looking at the covering and uncovering of the sun, I’m writing. There are words that ring in my head. Pound. In Berlin last week, I sat at the banks of the Spree and watched a … Continue reading Now in Gö, New in Gö
(With more than one Duomo present in Italy, I came about to refer to this one as the Milanese Duomo) “Yes, we did many things, then – all Beautiful…” (Come Close, Sappho) The first time at the Milanese Duomo was with my family. Did we get a cab there? We were staying at the chic … Continue reading The Milanese Duomo – first to last times
(No.4 of the Romanian series) Vama Veche. I saw it on the map first. A tiny dot before the Romanian coastal border. The images lining google maps showed a shopping street, people dancing on the shore, a fire, pubs, a hostel and a stretch of sea. Reading more, the common strain in most opinions was … Continue reading Acolo & a slanted ferris wheel – Vama Veche
(No. 1 of the Bulgarian series) We passed Vama Veche – the last coastal village in Romania giving way to Bulgaria – and drove to border control. Being the only non-European in the car, my passport was checked further. I sat with a knot in my stomach. A type of pointless fluttering I’ve felt only … Continue reading Sea at Krapets (Крапец) – A Bulgarian Beginning
(No. 2 of the Romanian Series) After a dull June morning at the Immigration Office in Brasov, I head to Piata Sfatului. I go in and out of local banks asking them if I’d be allowed to open a bank account to support my visa extension. At BRD I’m a tourist, at Raiffeisen (where I … Continue reading The Black Church, Brasov – An Insignification
Ports are places of many comings and goings. But there is a stillness and silence in them. Porto Antico, the old port of Genova in Italy did not smell like the sea. It smelled like a culmination of journeys. “There are ships sailing to many ports, but not a single one goes where life is … Continue reading Porto Antico
More than often, places become their people. Rarely places become their fictional people. There is no better example for this than the city of Verona in Italy where we head to Juliet's House also known as Casa di Giulietta. When you walk out of Verona Porto Nuova station, it looks like any other city. People … Continue reading Juliet’s House (Casa di Giulietta)
~ Written after leaving the familiar Bakewell ~ Some say it is in the familiarity of everyday that our soul lies. And if somehow, by some means you are detached from this familiarity, you feel a longing, an ache you wish you weren’t feeling. Losing a long kept job, finishing three years at university, marrying … Continue reading Familiar Bakewell
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