The gleaner woman holds grain in her arms, shes moving me, shes valuing what other don’t stop to see. In mosaics I see divine permission contrived. I see normal things like guns, pain, fairies and ecstasy. Marble stone looking like wood looking like fleshy oysters. I notice Christ last. I am calculating every stained glass window square. There are 11200 stained glass window squares. Quantifying is a way to calm the system. Now things are shaping into photographs taken of the universe, painted-in blues and warm bursts add dimension. I get so calm I almost fall asleep and a moment of divine serenity beckons my finger to my nose. I am here to excavate and contemplate myself outside myself and under the bluer light of god. The man levitating in the middle of this alter doesn’t look like Christ at all. Outside, stone circles on the ground wear light and shadow like unfinished sundials. Now they are wearing my feet and for a moment I turn them into hands and do my part to help quantify the day.
Category: PsychicCity (Page 2 of 5)
This past month has been one long life changing experience, that has been fun yet difficult. I feel I am growing more and more comfortable here though as time goes on, so I am constantly excited for what is to come.
How am I doing? I’m doing good. I feel like I have finally managed to get on top of all the various things that I need to be doing while I am here.
I certainly don’t hate it here. I cannot claim that I love it quite yet, because love is a strong word, but I certainly enjoy the crap out of it. Every time I see a big beautiful church after turning the corner I get my breath taken away, every time. I do also appreciate the rail/transportation system here. This makes me wish that Seattle could attempt to get on their level, even though I know that will never happen. I guess one of the things that I have to confess that I don’t really,like is the German mood. Yes Germans are nice and polite, but they are not very friendly. I hear this is also mostly confined to Berlin, and I hope this is true, this I woul love to see the south.
I give my folks a call every weekend. I feel like every time I call the, I have some amazing story to tell them. I would not say that I am homesick, but I feel that when I do go home, I will be excited to share my experience with anyone who will listen.
Things are always hard, it is simply a matter of finding a way to stablilize yourself. I don’t know what that means, but I don’t think I am overwhelmed right now. I really do wish my German was better, I mean a lot better, because I feel like I am just not learning fast enough. By the time I leave here I still won’t be able to have a conversation in German. And with all the various school work assignments, I feel like I don’t get the time to properly devote myself outside of the CIEE classroom to working on improving. The CIEE is going to end soon, though, I hope I have improved immensely by then. Without the class schedule I will have more time to my self to interact with Germans and Germany.
When I first got here, I was able to wake up easily and go to class. For some reason, I don’t know if it’s the cold dark weather or what, but it has become harder and harder for me to wake up in the mornings. Maybe I need to find a consistent schedule and stick to it, easier said than done.
Accessing my emotions here is a very difficult thing to do. Because each day is something so new, it is hard for me to take the time to compile all of these experiences and create a train of emotional thought. Did I enjoy this, for instance, or did I enjoy doing it because it was new?
I wouldn’t say I am unable to, it’s just that I don’t find myself trying to.
I’m adapting more to a bit of a routine. As far as habits go, I cannot say that there have been any drastic changes. It is nice having someone cook dinner for you, but it is a little odd.
What is caring me is not being able to speak German and not getting all the things done that I need to while I am here for such a short time.
I feel like I have always been somewhat of an independent, if you can call it that, person, so I don’t mind being alone.
If I was feeling anxious, I would try to a place to get something to eat. Maybe like Doner. This may sound weird, but I like food, everyone likes food, eating food rocks. Eating great food is even better. The feeling associated with ordering and eating Doner is one that I have come to enjoy, therefore I must not eat it all the time, but rather special occasions. But not that special, it’s only 3 Euro.
Class is stressful. Learning a language should be. I have tried learning Spanish, French and Latin, but I don’t remember any of any of them, not really anyways. This is the first time I have visited the country where the language is spoken, immersion they call it. I have had plenty of forewarning of just how difficult this is will be, but is still doesn’t fully prepare you. You just want to be fluent already, but it’s taking forever!
A pattern for my thoughts… I would say the closest thing to a pattern I can think of is that Belin is constantly surprising me with how big it is. I also try to avoid thinking about when I am leaving, not in a bad way, because time is absolutely flying here. And they say time flies while you are having fun, but I want this to last damnit.
I miss certain special people.
Kaiser Wilhelm Gedächtis KIRCHE
* ICH * LASSE * DICH * NICHT * DU * SEGNEST * MICH * DENN *
[I will not let you unless you bless me]
ALTARRAUM/sanctuary
Blue room. Blue around the crown. Just for my crown and eyes to see, not for my feet to see. Smatters of gold and red panes in the blue, reminds me of Egon Schiele.
Here’s what I mean about my foot perspective: the design of the church includes entire walls of stained glass cells, the equivalent of three stories high. The glass starts 12 feet up the walls of the sanctuary. We (MaryJane, me and the other tourists) feel like we are in the ground, we feel like carrots and our root crowns are all that pop out of the soil to feel the blue light of twilight.
MJ and I had a hard time getting to this spot and I am still buzzing, here now where I sit. We sang like a prayer on the train and then more in the hallway (der Flur) as we walked out of the underground.
I hear you call my name, and it feels like home
Someone began playing the organ, in fragment practice phrases and it washed out the carrot-ness of being in the room. Now my most activated sense is letting the sound comb out all my body’s ways of being here.
DRAUßEN im Platz
Outside in the Platz between the sanctuary and the church my head is getting filled back up with the sounds of a shopping center, boiling an egg. My attention is rushing back into the church and flying around the wee fairy carved into the wall.
Honestly, how are you doing?
I am not doing all that great currently. I’m sick. finally when I feel like I’m getting a grasp of how to stop isolating myself I am put in necessary isolation without the cognitive function to get much done other than what is necessary for my body. I’m constantly worn out by the demands I put on myself and because I put so many of them there I end up feeling overwhelmed, a sign of poor planning in my mind that only compounds the issue, and I get very little done and the cycle continues from there.
I just feel like I need time and space that there is never time and space for. Like I have this endless pit of despair that I shouldn’t have but don’t know how to get out of and no one can hear me from inside it as if it is swallowing all sound or possible connecting language and all I end up seeing are the faces of angry strangers thrusting their own insecure daggers down into this whole saying grab on let me help you out.
Yeah. It feels like nothing really helps. As if everything just makes it feel worse. As if there’s nothing I can do to stop the momentum of this quicksand I’m sinking into. It just escalates and I feel less the further in I go. And that’s the thing is the feeling is what can get me out. If only I could feel something. If only I could express something I could make it out because feeling makes the quicksand into a beach looking out at the ocean endless and constant but somehow still significant in each iteration even though it’s just the same shit over and over again. But I can’t get to the expression. It’s like it’s not only something swallowing me up but smothering me from above as well. I’m lost in the absence.
Do you hate it here or love it?
I don’t hat or love it. I am just here and currently the situation feels pretty bad to me. I can’t seem to crawl out of the whole I’ve dug for myself. Objectively the town is great. So many places to explore, so much beauty and information free to all and plenty of encouragement to get out and really be in it. Besides showing up to class as much as possible I find myself rarely saying yes to those things because I limit myself using the excuse that I have “too much to do.” I feel like such a downer most of the time.
Are you homesick?
I think I am. I have found myself wishing this was all over or wondering why I am here when I could just as easily be doing all of these readings, studying German, making notes, and the like in Olympia where I am closer to the community I’ve been a part of for the last seven years. Is that homesickness?
Are things getting hard?
Things are getting progressively more overwhelming. It’s getting harder to find the motivation, energy, and general willpower to get started on most things, even the ones I love to do like bike and immerse in nature. I find myself slipping deeper into a self I do not respect, feel consistently disempowered by, and find in most cases repulsive to be around. I find myself justifying this by saying that it is just the me that is learning to feel comfortable with uncomfortable situations, but at what point can that self no longer find balance within the darkness? Academia and the city life seem to suit me very little. I find myself being very bad at too many things. Even at the things I know I love. Closing off and shutting down.
What is your temporal experience at this point? (For example: I don’t operate on dates or days of the week)
My temporal experience has seemed to shift and fluctuate wildly during this entire trip. Where at first my sleep schedule and eating habits were very regular they are now either way too much of or way too little of both and all other combinations. My study schedule can’t seem to find a regular pattern either.
Are you remembering things? Can you access images and feelings and emotions at any point in this city?
I haven’t been feeling the lightness and alertness I feel I am used to with Spring. I am so grateful we came in the spring because imagining myself here in the winter seems oppressively difficult emotionally. I can’t seem to access many feelings except for feeling down about myself or slightly annoyed at others.
Are you unable to?
Yup
Are your habits changing?
Yes. Like I said earlier things feel like they are in constant flux and the patterns I am used to having when I am at home like regular meal times and time spent outside and physical activity have all but gone away.
What is scaring you?
How isolated I feel. How overwhelmed I’m getting. How down on myself. How hard it has become to do even the things I love. How hard it has been to just appreciate my privilege of being here and doing this. How hard it has become to appreciate much of anything.
How do you handle being alone?
Outside I have plenty of things to do. I haven’t been going recently though. Inside I isolate myself, and turn off my brain with Stephen Colbert or John Oliver.
What could you possibly do in a strange place to truly calm down? (For Example: when things get bad, I go into antique shops to assuage my anxiety)
Find the nearest park. Sit under a tree.
Is class stressful?
Sometimes. I just get into my head about certain things and then I can’t seem to get back out until I realize I haven’t been following the thread and then try to jump back in. Often times this doesn’t work though. I think for the most part class feels like decompressing, but thinking about it is often times a stressful activity.
What kind of thoughts are you thinking? There’s usually a pattern there.
I’ve been thinking a lot about how behind I am and how I wont be able to catch up. A lot about the my lack of self worth.
Do you miss anyone (it’s ok to not)?
I do. I miss my friends and community back in carnation and I miss my partner Ellie.
14.04.2016
Das Museum Berggruen
Grande Femme Debout II (Alberto Giacometti, 1959-60)
Dora Maar with Green Fingernails (Picasso, 1936)
PSYCHICCITY
I don’t know if it’s appropriate or if it defeats the purpose, but I chose a room in the apartment I’m staying in. There’s something about this room which gives me the sense that every object has a life and a voice of it’s own; when I am there I feel shrouded with unnameable spirit. It’s where my host parents have put the weirdest items in their collection: stone gnomes, broken chandeliers, abstract art, candle sticks, a lot of things in threes. There’s a statue of a crow with a piece of plastic stuck to it that will follow your eyes around the room if you let it. They don’t let any light into the room so even when the window is open the sounds from outside seem to justify the goosebumps.
—
I heard the sound of what sounded like someone putting giant dishes away, yelping, rushing sounds, high whistling, and intermittently the caws of a crow. Birds flirting, humming, and from inside of the room a low whirring. I’m bad at describing sounds in the way requested – sorry. And once I opened my eyes I noticed that every time I’ve sat in this room by the window the sky has always been blindingly white.
Location: Invalidenfriedhof Cemetery – Mitte
I can’t speak to spirits and I don’t care if they can hear me either way. I do, in spite of fact believe in spirits but I think only the worst and most self-centered of ghosts would choose to hang out in cemeteries next to their body. Like an automaton fantasy, why would anyone care to linger next to such a useless thing other than to project and reminisce who they thought they might have been. The spirit and it’s double. Do spirits still try to haunt the mind after the heart stops beating and how long before the fleshiness gets to them? Does the spirit re-propagate itself the like spores from a fern? The word spirit seems to have a sophisticated and unsophisticated way of being used in academia. The most sophisticated way would be to avoid it at all costs and merely draw contour lines around it with other less damp words. The word spirit has become an ear worm, I think it out of an embodied sense and into a thought so loud it plays like a chorus, vibrating out to the edges of all my openings.
After seeing the FC UNION game last weekend, my confidence rose and thus this weekend I decided to go for it. That’s right, I was going to try and see a Hertha match. There are only four games left in the season. Two of them are away games, so I wouldn’t be able to see either of those. The other home game was also during the weekend in which our class will be doing our excursion to Prague. So this was my last and only chance to get to see Hertha play; a match in the Bundesliga, in the fabled Olypmiastadion. On top of all this, they just so happened to be playing against, oh I don’t know, some team called BAYERN MUNICH! In case you aren’t in the know, Bayern Munich is easily, hands down, the most popular team in Germany. They are one of, if not the best team in the world. Tickets were going to be very expensive and very hard to come by. No matter, I was still going to go for it.
After my experience last week of arriving at the stadium and having there already be a ton of people every where, I decided not to risk it at all. I left for the stadium five hours before the game started, I got there with four hours to spare. 11:30, match time 3:30. Get to work. There weren’t as many people everywhere this time, so maybe that was a good sign. I got off the train and followed the crowd, assuming that what few people were there, we’re all heading in the same direction I needed to go. Up through the winding path through the trees, we eventually came to a clearing. There were lots of flag poles, and am empty lot, probably for cars. As my gaze followed my surroundings, I saw it. There it was. I seem to have difficulty explaining my feelings when it comes to these moments, but I can think of no other word than awe. Olympiastadion.
As I walked closer and closer to the stadium, it just kept growing bigger and bigger. Stands started appearing, selling beer and brots. In the distance I could see the gate entrances. I had no idea how I was going to get tickets. I had heard that everything online had been sold out. At this point my only chances were that either the ticket kiosk would be open and selling a limited number of tickets for people who actually showed up, or I would have to find a ticket scalper. The kiosks were closed, only one option remained. There weren’t many people there yet, I mean relatively, there were still a bunch of people already there, but the game did start in four hours. I walked through the crowds, scanning for people holding extra tickets. I had no luck so I decided to keep moving on to the south side entrance. There were fewer people at the entrance itself, but not far from it there was a building on a small hill, and all around it were tons of people with various red and blue gear. These were the respective team colors by the way. Munich red, Hertha blue. I walked around the edge, still keeping my eyes peeled. I really had no idea what I was doing. I didn’t know German, I couldn’t just walk up to random people and ask if they had and extra ticket, people wanted to get I tot his game, if they had tickets they were going to use them, if they had extras, they were going to pawn them off for a pretty penny.
Moving passed the restaurant/bar I continued my wide sweeping circle around the stadium, looking either for another entrance or people who might be able to help. I still wasn’t ready to give up on seeing a small stand that would be selling tickets, but then again I was desperate. As I continued on, a small group of people started forming, I followed them. Eventually I came upon a small discrete entrance, with a large group of people outside. Most of the people outside were girls roughly my age. I’m sure I wasn’t going to be able to just walk in. I looked around to try and figure out what this place was. The besti could figure was that this was an entrance for press, and I was no press, moving on. At this point I could see the stadium any more, I was just following a wide clockwise path around where I thought the stadium was. I ended up coming upon a small green course for horseback riding, there were those bars they could jump over and those mini hills for them to climb. Interesting that something like this would be located here. I came across the stables and saw some cool horses, but this only made me feel as if I was just getting myself farther from where I wanted to be. I had time though, so I continued with my circle. As I passed the horse club house area, I came to a sidewalk with a wall next to it. When I got to the end and turned the corner, I was surprised by a giant concrete structure. This for all intents and purposes looked like it could have been another entrance, this would have been the west side by now. There were very few people here, though. Mostly just some parked cars and teenagers drinking, legally by the way. I entered the building and realized that this wasn’t part of the stadium at all, this was actually the old Olympic grounds for when the olympics were here during the 30’s. The Olympic track and field was between me and the stadium, but I couldn’t see it or get to it, one had to pay for entry, probably to get a tour and see a video or something. Moving on.
I was disappointed to see that instead of football buildings, I just came across more horse stables and training grounds for them. As I walked by, four different people were riding horses though this course. I would have watched longer had I not seen green in the distance. What was that I saw, a football field, why yes, and was that a game going on? Also yes. I headed over thinking I was getting more back on track. From a distance they looked like they were high school aged kids, they were playing on grass though, which was definitely a bonus, I would have expected turf for that age. My best guess was that this was one of Hertha’s youth squads playing a home league game. I would have checked it out more thoroughly, had I not turned and looked to my right. There, the stadium was in view again, there was a man in an orange neon vest. He was letting a car through occasionally. Since there was only one guy, this was the point were I started entertaining the notion of trying to sneak into the game. I started looking for shorter fences, or holes, or unguarded areas, but I never really thought that I would have done it, not unless I had to. Next to the man was a very nice, pristine, seated mini stadium. I bet this was where Hertha had their practices. Or maybe it was the field next to it, or the one next to that. I followed the trail of fields, all of which were beautiful grass fields that made me really wish I had had a ball and cleats. In total I counted not one, not two, but seven different fields all in close proximity to the stadium. I gues they could practice on whatever field they damn well please.
At this point I had nearly finished my circle, the trees were starting to look familiar. Sure enough I came across the train station and decided to retrace my steps of when I had first arrived. My circle had taken me an hour and a half, and had yielded no results. Things were getting closer to crunch time. There were far more people this time around. The parking lot was already getting full, and the stands were full of people drinking and eating now. I waded thought he crowds, looking for someone who looked like they were looking for me. I spent half an hour walking awkwardly around groups of people over and over again. I over heard one group men talking in British accents. They said they had been planning this trip for weeks, that they had been unable to get tickets online even after looking everywhere. One man said he mangled to get his tickets from a random guy walking around selling them and I cursed under my breath. That should have been my ticket. This did give me a small glimmer of hope, though, with more people here there were bound to be more scalpers.
I eventually came acros two men, both of whom were completely decked out in Hertha gear, you could tell these guys were real fans. Their jackets were homemade, various Hertha stitchings and footballs made that abundantly clear. They each were carrying roughly five scarves each, and one of them had an envelope in his hand. I eyed him up and approached him cautiously. Eventually he saw me and we made eye contact, he held out the envelope and said tickets? Had I found what I was looking for? I asked him if he spoke English and he said no. That would make this more difficult. He pulled out what looked like a ticket from the envelope, he let me hold it and look at it for as long as I liked. I asked Sie viele kostet? Which I think means something like how much? Funfsig euros he said. Okay red flag. That I could not believe. I had heard people saying they saw prices as high as 80 euros, and I had come here ready and willing to spend up to 100 for a ticket, and here this guy was offering half that. There were many things that were going through my head at this point. How could I know these tickets were real? I looked around and saw a group of police men nearby, a coup,e of whom kept looking at me. I felt a chill go down my spine and heard a voice telling me to back away. I said sorry to the two men, and nicht jetzt, not now. I walked away from them and turned the corner, there was a huge line of people next to a small random building. I asked the kid at the back of the line if he spoke English, he said yes. I asked him what the line was for, and he said that this line was for referees, who could get special tickets at discounted prices. I asked him how I might be able to get a ticket, he said really my only chance wa to find someone selling one. He said that I should be careful though, because for a game like this a lot of scalpers would trying to get people to pay double the ticket prices. He said maybe 80 or 90 euro. I said this guy was trying to sell one for 50 and he couldn’t believe it either. I asked him what the scalping laws were inGermany. For instance could one sell tickets legally, and could I buy them legally? He said that it was illegal to sell them but not to buy them, this is what I wanted to hear, the police nearby had just been freaking me out. I decided to go for it.
I went back to the two men and gave him 50 euros for the ticket. Then, he said that I could go in with him if I wanted. This made me feel way more comfortable, that way if the ticket was fake, I could blame him. I told him I was a student and didn’t know any one. He said that the other man was his son, and that they were going to go grab some beers from their car, and that I could come. I followed them. Every minute I grew more and more comfortable, not seeming able to really believe that I had got a ticket. We went to the parking lot, drank a beer and chatted up. He couldn’t speak English, but he seemed to enjoy hearing me struggle with my German. After we finished our beers we decided to go to the stadium. The moment of truth. We walked and talked, or tried to, he said that this third ticket was for a friend of theirs who had hurt his knee and couldn’t come. When we got to the gate, he showed me how to insert the ticket into the machine. It blinked green and the turnstile unlocked, I walked through. I literally let out a cry of victory, but it was short lived as I realized I still had to go through the security guard who patted me down. Once he did though, I was through. I was really going to get to see Bayern Munich play Hertha in Olympiastadion! It all sunk in immediately and I hugged the two men. There names were Detlef and Daniel by the way, Daniel was the son. We walked around the stadium, which seriously looked like it was straight out of Ancient Rome or Greece. They walked me to where my seat was, this is when they said that we actually were not going to be sitting together, and that they were going to leave me here to go find there own seats. I thanked them over and over again and looked up the word grateful in German and said it to them, sehr dankbar. More hugs, more times saying viel spass, then they left.
Now it was time for me to start enjoying myself. I walked around my seat, the stadium was still pretty empty, most people were out eating and drinking. I decided to join them. Section L 6, row 18, seat 3, for 50 euros, not bad, not bad at all! I grabbed various things to eat and drink for the next hour. I waded through the ever thickening crowd which had many Munich fans by the way, and took in the scenery as well. There were some cool statues and other architecture. I came across a small group of people all facing a fence, I decided to go see what was up and to check it out. They were all watching car driving into the garage below. This had been where I had seen the man in the orange neon vest earlier. Apparently form here you could see all of the players arriving in their fancy cars. As game time approached, I decided to go find me seat again. With the game about to start, the stadium was now full packed, 77,000 people. The Bayern Munich fan section began to light red flares, wave flags and sing loud songs. The smoke covered the field up, and thus the match was postponed a good five minutes. Once it started though, pure heaven.
I had seen Bayern Munich play many times on tv, but real life was something completely different. In real life, everything they did just looked so much more amazing. When on a screen, it all looks so simple, but with your own eyes,you see just how good they are and that they are really amazing world class athletes. I simply could not look away from the game. It was just too beautiful. The score was tied at zero at halftime, but in the second half, Arturo Vidal scored first then Douglas Costa. Munich took a two nothing lead which was how the game ended. When the final whistle blew, I didn’t want it to end. I stayed in my seat and watched the crowds flow out until there was no one left and the security guards had to come and kick me out. As I left the field and eventually the stadium, I kept looking back behind me, knowing that I may never gain get to see either of these teams play, or even be in this stadium again, but that was ok, I was grateful for the time I had been given.
I am sitting underground. Allows talk with each other all around me. They show me cold colors of friction. Vibrations like screams, shrieks like sirens of death. Humming undertones that scourge the ear into a painful slumber. I hear what goes without saying. I hear a silence only listened to by deaf ears that are somewhere else in thought. I listen quietly. Am I silent? Where do I scream inside and never listen? I hear a prolonged rhythm only noticeable if you can distract yourself from that which surrounds you. A constant flow of jabbering German that might as well be gibberish except for the token words that grab hold of your attention and bring you back out of pure soundscape. My ear constantly wants to name, to point where, to ask why. I try to suspend and push the sound flat together as if it is just one note, as if it is one song, in harmony with all of the vibrations around it synchronizing its entrance into my ear. I hear scuffling, I hear breathing, I hear banging, yelling, raspy throat noise asking, back and forth I hear momentum quickening, lulling. I hear to the left and to the right, how does one flatten this? How does one numb direction? Orientation of space created by shapes of sound? I find myself struggling in frustration and I wonder, is that just the noise around me? How am I separate from this consuming rhythm? How am I attached? All of this is written after I am no longer hearing these things. Where am I in that sound now? How is it still apart of me? Do I still contact it? What frequency am I playing?
For my psychic city song I just turned on a German playlist until a song I liked the sound of played. I settled on Materia by Kids (2 finger an den kopf) The first listen through, it made me feel like a bad ass just listening to it. Listening the second time its sounded like a bit of a tough, rebellious song. Upon looking up the lyrics I realized the lyrics were bemoaning how suburban everybody was now, and how no one’s wanting to be exciting or different anymore and how that was stupid. I so feel this song.