Like Kai in the Snow Queen’s cage, my corner of Berlin is trapped in a late midwinter paralysis. Expected post fails to arrive. Glass and grünpunkt recycling have not been collected from my building in Prenzlauer Berg since before Christmas – which means a lot of glass has piled up. Until they were finally carted away yesterday, the bodies of obsoleted Christmas trees lined the kerbs. The streets are two thirds swept, one third still littered with scatterings of grey grit from the heavy snowfall of mid December, and with the mashed card and paper detritus of the New Year fireworks. If you’ve never experienced what goes up in Berlin on New Year’s Eve: trust me, it means a lot of firework detritus. Continue reading “Suspension City”
A time of strange hybrids.
Charles Eisenstein’s reflections from the end of 2012 carry a title different in one word only from that of this blog. They help recall me to this place, and why it still matters to abide here, pausing where it is difficult, opaque, not honest to go on.
Of a new ‘Story of the People’, one to replace the narrative of reason, progress and human supremacy that is unravelling all around us, Eisenstein writes:
We are not quite ready for such a story yet, because the old one, though in tatters, still has large swathes of its fabric intact. And even when these unravel, we still must traverse the space between stories, a kind of nakedness. In the turbulent times ahead our familiar ways of acting, thinking and being will no longer make sense. We won’t know what is happening, what it all means, and, sometimes, even what is real. Continue reading “Chimæras”