Going to Berlin with Parsons this summer! I’m so excited<3 but perhaps, not for the reasons people think for. I personally don’t mind beer, or marzipan chocolate, or sausages or hot guys (why is it that *every* person I’ve spoken to, can only rhapsodize about the hotness of people?) but you know what I really want?
It’s by Caspar David Friedrich, and is my favourite painting in the world. I fell in love with it at 16 – after a long and terrible adolescence (still the stuff of nightmares, only that the output is transmuted to “art”). I saw it in a book, a loan from a gallery owner – “Late Romanticism in Eastern Europe” and it was like – no; it is falling in love. The sweaty palms clutching paper, the quickening of breath, the dilation of pupils, a rush of blood – yes (!) true love at first sight.
And after that, it was like an epiphany of other work – down came Kierkegaard (my first brush with philosophy), then Magritte and Jim Dine and Frank Auerbach and Rilke! How I loved Rilke – my first sculpture was based on Rilke; jeder engel ist schrecklich, wer, wenn ich schriee, hörte mich denn aus der Engel Ordnungen? (afterwards, when I decided never to do art, I burned it. I still regret never documenting my early work) then years later, Rilke came back to me again, in photography. I think, if you ask me now, 10 years later, I can still quote you the 2nd elegy from Duino. But I still remember that period intensely, my life was going to hell but it was going to hell with my eyes looking into stars.
Berlin! I never dreamed of Berlin (maybe, I should’ve). I have no references, except Disney castles and a vague idea that hot dogs were invented there. But my dreams were filled with art that is found there – the language of Rilke and Goethe; of Auerbach and Friedrich and Fritsch and Kiefer and Richter – such horror, such beauty, how would it feel to finally stand infront of this abyss?
Terrified and happy, I have too many feelings to put to words – only, know that I love and will love you forever.