dear stranger-friends,
today is blazing spring weather in berlin -- and for some reason, it makes me want to run inside. I think it's not the weather; it's the sudden swelling of people. I guess this pandemic has made me more of a hermit than I realized. I long for mountains, stars, sea, fish. starfish.
I started a website redesign last week - and it's still very much ongoing, but you can take a little look here.
here is the first journey I just opened (today) on starting a morning ritual (again, also ongoing).
this week's journal posts include
-- very brief life instructions (for myself, of course!)
-- a moody weather log
-- a flower & bike illustration
-- ocean vuong podcast notes
-- a bad physics drawing of time x place
-- obsessive thinking-out-loud about digital houses
wishing you a lovely
beginning of april
and a slice of the banana bread
i'm planning to bake tomorrow
kening
today | swallow the bitterness savor the sweet
some minimalist instructions for life — for my past and future self to remember and recite back to me, when I need it most. it could also be: swallow the sweetness, savor the bitter. because bitterness, too, can be truly appreciated as a portal for wounds and its transformation. what is light without dark? nothing.
yesterday | a berlin spring weather log
spring weather in berlin, for me, is far more unbearable than winter. in winter you know it’s dark. but early spring in berlin consists of a tortured moodiness and inconsistent sun that will drive one crazy.
that is to say, spring in berlin is a wise teacher for all the important lessons you need to learn in life: on endurance, patience, and grace in the face of sudden, drastic change. on living totally in the moment of the weather.
I’m playing an experiment for the next month or two — where I’ll do the opposite of a weather forecast.
wednesday march 30 2021
AM & PM | a burning consistent sun that makes me shocked to believe I’m in the same city. all the people are coming out, which makes me want to be inside.
KZ | (2/10) tornado weather & dust storms. quelling an urge to escape. watching my anxiety like a slow crash.
monday | in the mood for movement (& a bike)
sometimes you get tired of walking, and you’re in the mood to travel on wheels, and pedal — preferably with the clickety-click sound to accompany the act of movement. I haven’t owned my own bike since I was eight years old. I’m not sure I really need a bike — though it’s very much a favored way of transport in berlin — maybe I just want a basket that moves, so that I can carry roses and peonies in it.
sunday | ocean vuong interview & language as body
I’m starting a habit of compiling my highlighted notes for everything I absorb — to slowly grow my inspiration library.
I listened to this on being interview with ocean vuong yesterday — and I loved the way he talked about language as its own spoken body — moving and breathing in space — and of course, the body as its own language.
saturday | the bird of here and now
I’ve been in an off mood. this berlin pandemic winter was so dark and so long it was almost… charming. I embraced it with both arms and sunk into the darkness. but now that spring is like a spider-thin, barely-there thread, just forming, I feel an old restlessness in me stirring again; an agitation for escape. for some other world.
last wednesday | an infinity house on the webs
some thinking-out-loud & reflections on designing a website as infinity house -- rather than flat structure.
thank you from the long-awaited secrets of spring for reading my weekly digest. write me back anytime.