In the beginning was the tricycle. It was easy, I felt safe riding in my grandma’s courtyard supported by those tiny extra wheels helping me with my little balance problems.
Then came the time to remove them, and the drama began. I knew I needed to learn how to ride a normal bike, because deep down I knew (and I still know it, I’m a deluded person) that one day this ability will serve me to win The Amazing Race (there’s always at least two or three tasks having to do with riding bikes, usually in overcrowded cities of the world). So I learnt. Don’t know how, but I did, and this made me able to live a pretty normal childhood and to move quickly through my village (which you could probably cross in its entirety in one hour. By foot.).
Unfortunately my complicated relationship with two-wheeled vehicles got worse during my teenage years. The other kids of my age had vespas and scooters. Like, all of them. And if I had been brave enough to take my chances with the bicycle, it definitely wasn’t the case with this new, evil, motorized mean of transportation. I tried it in the back, once, and it was scary. Read More
beach house @ astra
Oh, Victoria, why do you have that haircut? I had no idea you resembled one of the four musketeers, and I couldn’t help thinking about that during the whole concert. Plus: it makes you so very french….are you going on a band tour or are you going to storm the Bastille? Maybe you should consider getting an appointment to the hair dresser.
If you live in Berlin you know this city is full of (wannabe) artists seeking some sort of recognition through the public display of their (wannabe) art. There’s a little bit of everything: there’s talented inspired human beings and there’s hopeless clueless amateurs; there’s unmissable live acts, serious posh galleries and shoes you randomly find on the ground. The art scene is so alive and kicking that after a while you start feeling those kicks less and less, ’till it all just seems part of the big Berlin show.
In Edinburgh, on the contrary, the atmosphere used to be quite different. Read More
tori amos @ philarmonie
If you were a teenager in the 90’s, there’s high chances that to you Tori Amos doesn’t sing songs as much as she sings memories. I’m aware that I will never ever relate to music like I relate to these songs, ’cause when I discovered Tori Amos, music and life looked like the same violent thing. Now they’re two separate things, none of which is particularly cruel, but still listening to the songs arranged with the Metropole Orchestra inside a crazy venue like Berlin Philarmonie was like rewatching moments of my teenage years on a cinemascope. When she played Baker Baker I think my heart broke irreversibly.