Hamburg Diaries
Fiction & Literature, Literary Theory & Criticism, European, German, Biography & Memoir
| Author: | Alice Thorvaldsen | ISBN: | 9781462865574 |
| Publisher: | Xlibris UK | Publication: | July 11, 2011 |
| Imprint: | Xlibris UK | Language: | English |
| Author: | Alice Thorvaldsen |
| ISBN: | 9781462865574 |
| Publisher: | Xlibris UK |
| Publication: | July 11, 2011 |
| Imprint: | Xlibris UK |
| Language: | English |
This little notepad is going to be my paper-based blog for now . . . for all of the tech savvies out there one day, all of these thoughts will come in a digital format as well. But you may understand that when the thought comes I just cant wait for windows to boot especially when I only have 7 minutes before I reach my destination. Fountain pen and paper will still be the preferred writing mode. Who knows maybe in a couple of years well be able to just think and transfer thoughts on a microchip implanted in our left temple. Ok I admit I am being slightly far fetched here . . . Just so that you know moleskine version and word version may be slightly different but this is because I cant just stop my head adding thoughts to the original. Beware this blog is unfiltered. Today (25/09/2010) the town hall here in Hamburg is open to the public. I went it but it was all too baroque for my taste so I came out and started staining my brand new notepad with blue ink. Theres nothing better than a carefully chosen fountain pen to write, fountain pens just write, ball pens force your hand to stop and reflect and thats what I dont want. Being the end of September in the northern hemisphere, the weather is slightly crap but nevertheless interesting and pleasant is some weird sort of way. Since I moved to the free and hanseatic city of Hamburg, Ive observed the people, the landscapes, the cityscapes and the culture. I thought Id start writing about Hamburg and my life here because one day maybe I wont be able to remember any longer or I wont care, or maybe I will just want to read my thoughts again who knows. The other reason is that I was supposed to stay here for a short time but here I am 3 years later in the same city and just as I start to be a Hamburger, Ive been told I may need to move again at the end of next year. Its funny how the minute I found out I may need to leave again, I had the feeling I was already too attached to the place. Many of the streets I walked on have a story, sometimes a funny one, sometimes a neutral one and sometimes a sad one. Ive even noticed that I do tend to avoid the sad streets or the lunch break streets but I love to get lost into new street and find my way in a street that I know. I guess sometimes I have to walk the sad streets again and just like Marcel Proust described how he could remember things from the freshly baked scent of the little madeleines, I can remember some of the details of a street that I walked on with a particular feeling inside of me. Id like to point out that the city of Hamburg just happens to find itself on the map of Germany, but this was quite possibly due to a few twisted historical events. Hamburg has its own life and character sometimes rude and gentle at the same time. Hamburg will remain a little hanseatic island of . . . Hamburgers . . . Today I feel like looking back and give you my own written painting of this city. Im curious to know if you also see it this way and if not how do you see it but of course I cant just stop people and ask. Or can I? Seems like yesterday when I first landed here and took the S-Bahn (fast public transportation train) for the first time to go to Harburg Rathaus (town hall). Back then I was staring at the golden tree leaves fluttering in the wind and now here I am, my own golden hair fluttering in the wind as I look at the clouds. I hope I wont keep being this cheesy in the remaining chapters but again there is no guarantee. Stopping thoughts is something that I have already done too many times and now its time to stop it and let them flow in a sort of Virginia Woolf sort of way.
This little notepad is going to be my paper-based blog for now . . . for all of the tech savvies out there one day, all of these thoughts will come in a digital format as well. But you may understand that when the thought comes I just cant wait for windows to boot especially when I only have 7 minutes before I reach my destination. Fountain pen and paper will still be the preferred writing mode. Who knows maybe in a couple of years well be able to just think and transfer thoughts on a microchip implanted in our left temple. Ok I admit I am being slightly far fetched here . . . Just so that you know moleskine version and word version may be slightly different but this is because I cant just stop my head adding thoughts to the original. Beware this blog is unfiltered. Today (25/09/2010) the town hall here in Hamburg is open to the public. I went it but it was all too baroque for my taste so I came out and started staining my brand new notepad with blue ink. Theres nothing better than a carefully chosen fountain pen to write, fountain pens just write, ball pens force your hand to stop and reflect and thats what I dont want. Being the end of September in the northern hemisphere, the weather is slightly crap but nevertheless interesting and pleasant is some weird sort of way. Since I moved to the free and hanseatic city of Hamburg, Ive observed the people, the landscapes, the cityscapes and the culture. I thought Id start writing about Hamburg and my life here because one day maybe I wont be able to remember any longer or I wont care, or maybe I will just want to read my thoughts again who knows. The other reason is that I was supposed to stay here for a short time but here I am 3 years later in the same city and just as I start to be a Hamburger, Ive been told I may need to move again at the end of next year. Its funny how the minute I found out I may need to leave again, I had the feeling I was already too attached to the place. Many of the streets I walked on have a story, sometimes a funny one, sometimes a neutral one and sometimes a sad one. Ive even noticed that I do tend to avoid the sad streets or the lunch break streets but I love to get lost into new street and find my way in a street that I know. I guess sometimes I have to walk the sad streets again and just like Marcel Proust described how he could remember things from the freshly baked scent of the little madeleines, I can remember some of the details of a street that I walked on with a particular feeling inside of me. Id like to point out that the city of Hamburg just happens to find itself on the map of Germany, but this was quite possibly due to a few twisted historical events. Hamburg has its own life and character sometimes rude and gentle at the same time. Hamburg will remain a little hanseatic island of . . . Hamburgers . . . Today I feel like looking back and give you my own written painting of this city. Im curious to know if you also see it this way and if not how do you see it but of course I cant just stop people and ask. Or can I? Seems like yesterday when I first landed here and took the S-Bahn (fast public transportation train) for the first time to go to Harburg Rathaus (town hall). Back then I was staring at the golden tree leaves fluttering in the wind and now here I am, my own golden hair fluttering in the wind as I look at the clouds. I hope I wont keep being this cheesy in the remaining chapters but again there is no guarantee. Stopping thoughts is something that I have already done too many times and now its time to stop it and let them flow in a sort of Virginia Woolf sort of way.
