Wednesday, 7 December 2011
Dear Copenhagen - First Days 1
It’s a first entry of the series “First Days”. These are going to be scraps from my notes from the very first days in Copenhagen (and a bit before). This is my second time living here - I've spent few months in Copenhagen in 2004 - so there may be some references to it.
I’m coming again soon and if you don’t mind I want to tell you few things.
I will try to look at you trough the magic glasses, to see your secrets, dusty memories reflected on the flaking walls, old posters in the cafes and friends’ flats, comic strips, Kierkegaard, Andersen, Egon’s “Skide godt”, Christiania, Inuits, Solarplexus, circus people, busking with my clown accordion by Rundetårn (oh, I loved that so much), cycling on my wrecked bike…
I hope you will open yourself to me, I really want you to be my home. What am I going to give you in exchange? Is my heart not enough, girl?
I’m only asking you to mingle my path with the paths of other desperados, losers, seekers, Don Kichotes and dreamers. Wouldn’t that be nice to meet and start our own tribe?
Montresor de Amontillado
* * *
They told her that a girl couldn’t be a vagabond. She didn’t listen. She shouldered a bundle (an apple and one extra sleeveless dress for the hot days), put a song on her lips and challenged the winding caminos and sleepy towns. She can be a tramp if she wants to! And not only she is going to be alright, but on top of that she will find a treasure, learn a trade, meet a lover and discover the art of trumpet playing and apples juggling. And even if she wont manage all these, in the next life-dream she will shoulder a bundle and put a song on her lips again. That’s right ma’am.
* * *
I’ve managed to get a place in Copenhagen, so I have somewhere to go, when I get there. Ruth asked some friends to have me staying. Only for few days, but it’s a good start.
I’m tired of this itchy rash I’ve got and the hurting knee. That’s exactly what I need when I’m about to move abroad again, when I will have to look for an apartment, job, deal with all the paper work, etc. But that’s how it is. On the other hand difficulties help us to test the concept of ourselves against reality. Rising over our limitations should give us the real and lasting kind of happiness, yes? Love, friendship – these things make us happy too, but to really love and be a friend we have to “get out of ourselves”, become something more then we are.
I’m reading “History of Philosophy” by Tatarkiewicz. It’s not an easy reading, but once you enter into the land of ideas and abstraction, it reads nice and peaceful. It’s a subtle pleasure of communing with the pure ideas. I think that philosophy is closer to music and painting then to the more “precise” fields. Yesterday I read about Democritus and materialists who actually felt very close to me (which might appear strange since I’m considering myself a spiritual person). I just liked their sober minds, in opposition to the modern puffed up materialists, who just make me pissed off with their arrogance and all-knowing attitude.
I’m listening to Zulya a lot. Russian singer. Strong, jazzy vocal, her music has a mood like from old fairy tales, amazing, beautiful. Although lately my soul is numb, and I don’t feel very connected with the world of intuition and dreams, I can experience the charm of her music.
I have problem with the balance. For years I’m swimming in the dreamland of Highest Priestess, turning my back to the world, and then suddenly I give up her cosy shelter and I embrace the Magician’s energy – I want to change the world, save it, influence people, act on the social level. Today, listening to Zulya, I missed the peace and safety of the inner, spiritual realms.
I need to find a harmony. To learn how to live in the daylight but to draw from the night too. In the night to hunt werewolves (or to be one) and make friends with witches, in the day spread the Bakunin’s and Kropotkin’s message, write, participate, shape.
Labels: Copenhagen first days