It’s saturday and for a change I don’t have to study for an exam, which gives rise to a heavenly, almost unknown, feeling.
The feeling that I should relax and enjoy it, combined with that nagging thought of all this other stuff to do, which I am so good to fill my life with.
Mails to answer, dates to confirm, grandmas to call, some extra working things to do.
So what do I do?
I had a splendid evening with my man yesterday, got too much wine, felt great at that time and less so this morning.
So I confirm a running date.
And stay all morning (well what’s left of it) in bed and browse through the world wide web. I look at fashionblogs, look at art blogs, follow a tiny trail of links, pictures, credits, discover news interesting sites and rediscover other (perhaps less interesting) sites.
This journey, which makes me forget time and that hungry feeling in my stomach, it makes me stumble across pictures of Nan Goldin by Nan Goldin.
You know sometimes pictures just have that certain little extra, that makes you look at them and makes you find out who took them.
Well this time it was Nan Goldin, who really understood to capture the essence of that life currently really fascinating me. That bohemian life (I know, quite old fashioned work for this at the moment quite hip phenomena) celebrated in big cities. The big city. Berlin. New York?
I love the way she uses mirrors, seizes the moment and really comes close to her models. I don’t know, somehow she displays the figures’ loneliness without compromising their coolness.
Like stating: that’s the price/ a side effect of this kind of life, and they chose to put up with it, and this way Nan Goldin might mirrow herself in them?
Well I don’t know anything about her, but I guess these pictures just touched something in me right there and then, and I was very happy to find out that Berlinische Gallerie is having an exhibition with her work the time I will be in Berlin for the Berlinale.
Now I can face the cruelty of a neglected appartement, especially the kitchen after yesterday’s cooking escapades* and that pile of virtual mails waiting for me.
* Recipe will follow