So, another new house, my fourth since arriving in Berlin. At each change, a departure has threatened for various reasons but now, right now, I find myself at home. The new apartment is light and tall and sits near Sonnenallee, a two minute walk from where three canals meet. Earlier last week, the water was frozen over, but now warmth has swelled through the city, relatively.
What to say about the rooms I now inhabit? There are shelves for books, a large table to work at, many many lights, a miniature kitchen and warm water. Yes, warm water. Still, I visited the old house today to spread vinegar on the floors and I already miss it. The iron kitchen oven, the awakening spring garden, a cellar full of tools and coal, Klaas' endless entertainment and conversations on oscillators and art.
Heavily, I rode my bicycle down the hill for the last time, past the old Friedrichshain apartment, over the towered Spree bridge, across the park. Then through some cobbled side-streets, along the straight stretch of water, through the trees of the children's park and to home.
I set out this morning into the Turkish markets for coffee and groceries, thinking of the week before. A nice show at Antje Oesklund, evenings with friends (including an interesting evening in a bar in Wedding where we were mistaken for 'the band' and given free alcohol all night), much cleaning of the house and then Saturday night, where we lay around in a Kreuzberg flat, ate peanut soup and animated plasticine in a stop-motion tribute to Tony Hart.
So this brief, poorly written missive should sate those clamouring for more writing here. Or rather, the one person who emailed today. This week should present further explorations into Deep Neukoelln, as I know it, a few meetings, more writing and a determined effort to master the album for the release at the end of the month. More on that when I'm finished.