pitchers part I: living and studying

Ok here it is! What you’ve all been waiting for! A semi-demi-update in picture edition. brought to you by berlin-so-far productions.

i rent a place from friends. this is the family, she's a photographer, he's a musician. cute no?

the view from my windows, ta da
in case i need to check the time, two clock towers! (rainbow, limited edition)

and this is the sunset sideit looks over Hackescher Markt.
i wanted to take a picture of the vertical view to the bottom but i dont know if i have—oops i dropped my camera from the 18th floor—insurance.

here is berlina in my kitchen, on a night lotte was here and we all wanted brownies and ice cream and banananas foster.

note the e f on the wall. i rearranged it to my liking but it was already there before i moved in.
fate?
p.s. that was the most awesome dessert night of my life.




so..sound studies. here are some people
jan who makes records and marco from venezuela who documents everything and has amazing video art.
we explored an former brewery and
found some underground artists studio.

i mean literally underground.
















we are all working on a project about Siemensstadt, an old industrial settlement to the west.
jana and marco and i went there to do ground research and find out what this place was about. so we climbed a refrigerator.


found some tracks.







went through a dark rusted gate




and found an alternate universe

well, thats all for today. photos upload so slowly! tune in for the next installment: people, music and madness!

nightwalker

It is late. I am restless, and descend from my tower to pace. survey the realm.
Places should all be closed by this hour, concerts over, kids asleep. And there is a certain stillness, quietness to a Sunday midnight. Still, there are many many exceptions. Oranienburger is decked in its perpetual post dusk glow (tourists roam drunken, lost, loud, overwhelmed, euphoric; prostitutes pout—dotting the way like sugar candy in plastic pink wrapping and black laces; dealers lounge in the gated doorways of Tacheles courtyard; the new 24 hour health food snack store glares green from across the tram station, and all is right with the mitte world). So I wander in a wide circle, past these lights, around to Tor (the last fruit and beer stands still open, grapes for sale) peer in schokoladen as I pass, then back down through some winding way finding the right path half by instinct and half by following the blinking light of the tv tower.
It is still one of the things I love about berlin that you can walk down not just one, but even two or three streets in the very middle of the city and not see a soul. As though the night retains a certain sacredness.