geschwurbel

Primary personality trait: regretfulness.

2012-01-19T10:44:00.000+01:00

“I can humiliate myself to your face. I can weep through my own midnights.”

Thinking about it, it’s actually rather surprising how much I like Xiu Xiu. I feel like I should be more annoyed by it, but I’m not. But it’s definitely not in the same vein as most of the things I listen to.
But then again, given the fact that I am mostly bored by what I usually listen to, maybe I’m on to some really great insight here. Heh.

I have some soul searching to do.
But I am a bit apprehensive of what I might find.

It’s not like this is irrelevant now.

2012-01-09T17:07:00.002+01:00

Been rummaging through the music files.
This stuck out with its loveliness.

A small and quick and urgent song.

The ears of death.

2012-01-07T13:04:00.002+01:00

So, as I see it, the problem constructs itself in equal portions out of the fact that there is always a tomorrow, and the fact that there are never enough tomorrows.

Interrail #10: Ghent

2012-01-05T11:30:00.000+01:00

It goes on!
Ghent was a day trip while we were stationed in Antwerp. We went there on July 21st, which incidentially is the Belgian National Holiday. So everything was closed. Also, we arrived there the day after the Gentse Feesten. Or maybe during the festival. But the atmosphere definitely had a “morning after” vibe. That means there was rubbish everywhere and throughout the old town there was an unmistakable and very pungent aroma of beer, processed by the human body. If you know what I mean. It was the day Ghent had been turned into the Gents! (Oww!)
Given the fact that Ghent is known for its picturesque niceness, that was a bit un-nice. Bad timing, I guess.
We definitely made the best of it by fleeing the site of devastation and seeking the comfort of the local museum of modern art.
PICTURES!

Dirty, smelly Ghent.

It could’ve been so pretty.

Weeeird architecture.

A few bikes.

Random corner. With bikes.

Hier kwaak ik.

Kunst!

Broodthaers!

Storage depot!

Doing the art thing.

Inside installations.

Institution.

Right-o. Have a nice day!

Difference studies.

2012-01-04T12:09:00.002+01:00

T’s blogpost got me philosophising about difference again. Difference is my grand theory, if I have such a thing, only that there isn’t really a theory as such, just a sort of grid through which I perceive the world, in which difference and power are defining notions. It’s all very Foucaldian, I’m afraid.

I started out writing this as a comment to the C. S. Lewis quote, and then realised that it isn’t really a comment on the C. S. Lewis quote.

Experiencing difference is the most important and difficult thing. Often we don’t do it in a profound enough way – either we ignore it or only perceive it in terms of dichotomy, which actually reduces difference into sameness (because you end up with two identical concepts, only one of them has a negative marker). It's wrong but almost inevitable. And as a consequence real understanding fails to materialise.

I actually think that perceptiveness towards difference has to a lot to with your position in power, which is why in terms of language, there is a specifically English perceptual handicap with regards to difference, because *of course* English is the universal language. This is my slightly anti-English prejudice that I like to indulge in. Only it’s not exactly a prejudice, because it’s based on observation, but it’s probably an simplicistic generalisation, or at least it’s not specifically English at all but simply has to do with cultural hegemony. It would be weird if it were specific to Anglophones given the internal heterogeneity of the English language (and the speaking community). But I guess it can be said that many or most English people I’ve meet were monolingual, and I have often been surprised at their lack of understanding and weird way of approaching language difference.

But this is a fragmented thought, as all my thoughts are, and I’m not at all convinced of its accuracy. It might puff away into thin air as soon as I really thought it through. I might come up with equally convincing or unconvincing arguments to refute it. This relativity in my own perception of what I actually think, or if you will, believe, as opposed to the things I think about without really finding any conclusive solution to the problems ... that’s kind of scary and uncomfortable. That’s what my university education has done for me. Made me unable to produce a statement that does not include the words "but then again". To some extent this doubt is good. But it’s also kind of incapacitating. (Help!)

My very humble and doubting nature now makes me realise how ridiculous it is to complain about anybody’s lack of understanding for difference and in the same breath talk about grids and grand theories. Because they too are really quite detrimental to real understanding, aren’t they? Aren’t they another way of just walking through life and reducing difference to sameness, by reducing all experience to the structures that are ready-made in your head? True, but is there really another way of perceiving anything? Da Vinci said that a painter always paints himself, and I guess by the same token all our experiences really are just reflections of our selves.

Not that this is in any way a new insight. No, we all know that.
These are just honestly the things that walk around in my head. I’m somehow quite stuck on this, because the only conclusion I always come to is that there is no conclusion and the only thing I am utterly convinced of is that being utterly convinced of anything would be quite wrong. It’s the post-modern conundrum.

This is not really blog material, because what people want are pretty pictures and song quotes that succinctly and brilliantly describe what I feel. I don’t think I’d enjoy reading what I just wrote, but I’m on a mission to make my genuine thoughts a little more shareable so I can refrain from sharing only shallow mass-approved trifles that don’t really have much meaning. Call it an experiment.

Interrail #9: Antwerp

2011-12-29T11:34:00.000+01:00

Oh my god, do you still remember that I went on an interrail trip in the summer of 2010? I hardly do! And I’m still only halfway through posting the pictures on my blog! I really need to get this in order. So full steam ahead.

The last stop was Amiens. Then we crossed over, or more precisely under the channel via Eurostar and ended up in London. From there, we took the train to Ipswich, where we spent the night camping outside the station. (If you type Ipswich into google, the third auto-complete suggestion is "Ipswich murders". I did not tell my mother that.) In the morning, we continued our journey to Beccles and Henham Park, where we enjoyed three wonderful days of the very recommendable Latitude Festival. I will post pictures of this at some later point. They’re on film, and I haven’t scanned them yet. After the festival, we went back to London, and spent a very brief afternoon sauntering through the East End. Then we took the Eurostar back to the continent. And eventually ended up in Antwerp, Belgium.

Antwerp is nice. All in all I have very positive memories of it – the Rubenshuis, mussels, the botanical garden, just walking around the town and looking at those beautiful facades with their crow-stepped gables. The first, strange da Vinci-themed hotel we stayed at first, and the even weirder hippie-themed backpacker hostel we stayed at later. You know when you simply feel quite at home in a place, though you cannot really put a finger on the reason why this is so? Antwerp was a bit like that, for me.

Caution. Many pictures ahead.

Upon arrival, Max and I interact with the locals. Local statues, that is.

Strange architecture.

Some more architecture.

Guy Fawkes.

Crow-stepped gables, postcards, and my arse at the Grote Markt.

City Hall.

Oh dear, I'm kind of obsessed with these.

Beautiful botanical garden. <3

Drinking Duvel, looking very "German".

MUSSELS!!!

Visiting the Rubenshuis.

Antwerp Cathedral.

Walking on "water" outside the Koninklijk Museum voor Schone Kunsten.

Odd but interesting exhibition at the KMSKA.

The incredible Railway Station. I LOVE railway architecture!Byebye, Antwerp.

Post-Christmas-Christmas-Post

2011-12-28T20:04:00.001+01:00

What’s Christmas about if not cats going crazy about the wrapping paper and boxes and indecent amounts of food?

Yes, Bill, there’s treats in that stockings.

Wrapping to play with? It’s Cat Christmas!

Canapés. Here we have the shrimp, the salmon and the venison pâté. Nothing to see here, vegetarians! I admit, I kinda broke down toward the end of the evening and devoured several shrimp canapés. I am weak. Shrimp urges!

Christmas table total view.

Vegetarian canapés (lentil "maki", cheese-pear-walnut-chicory-ships, artichoke nests). And some non-vegetarian as described above.

A fairly large amount of devilled eggs. <3

Onion scones filled with goat cheese. These were so yummy!

Some more puff pastry artichoke nests.

Bratwurst canapés with sauerkraut on top. We made these because bratwurst with sauerkraut is (interestingly) the traditional Christmas food in my mum’s family. Oh and also: bacon-wrapped plums.

As you can see I took no pictures of people. I could say something self-ironic about my priorities. But I guess, even if I have no pictorial evidence of this fact, to me Christmas is also about having the whole family in one place.This year we did pretty well, I think. I mean, it went pretty harmoniously as family gatherings go.

One year ago.

2011-12-10T17:29:00.001+01:00

Approximately one year ago.

If it doesn’t have a name it must be normal ...

2011-12-06T16:54:00.001+01:00

I’ve been having a strange time in the last few days – or maybe it has actually been going on for much longer, it’s hard to tell. It’s definitely somehow “broken out” now, so that I can’t hide it from myself any more.I can hardly remember a time when I’ve felt this low, and so ill equipped to deal with the lowness. I cannot really say what the reason for it all is. It seems it is no reason and all reasons. I simply haven’t been feeling very good about myself, recently, and there is nothing that seems fit to pull me out of it.My thoughts keep going in circles as I’m trying to figure out what it is that makes me so unhappy. I keep coming up with too many different reasons, none of them very reasonable but none-the-less real and heart-felt.I’m a bit worried that I’ve somehow slipped into a full-blown depression because I’ve never been like this.

2011-11-22T20:43:00.001+01:00

In times of stress, I find it really hard to maintain an acceptable online presence.Sorry!I hope I’ll be back to a normal heart rate and posting frequency by approximately December 2nd.

Music.

2011-10-27T21:38:00.000+02:00

Yesterday, I saw Jens Lekman at the Odeon Theater in Vienna.The venue was simply amazing, a huge neo-classical hall, mostly empty save for the space in the middle that was used as 'stage' and the tribune with the seats for the audience.

There is only a crappy mobile photo but look:

It was the first time I ever saw Mr. Lekman play live, and it was great. He started out with a couple of songs that he accompanied with his guitar only, except for some occasional support from his drummer, and I must say, I almost prefer those simple arrangements to the album versions. Towards the end he sort of increased the volume, using more pre-recorded tracks. Then he walked away from the microphone and stood right in front of the audience and did Shirin. End of the set.

An encore was requested, but he just said: "That song just now felt like a good ending, and I wouldn’t want to spoil it. If you want to hear any other songs, just come to me later and I will play them for you personally." (He actually kept the promise, too.)

It was a good night.

Interrail #8

2011-10-23T13:32:00.003+02:00

Dear friends, I am horrible with uploading and blogging photos.
One prime example is the seemingly inexhaustible stock of Interrail travel pictures, which are now over a year old and still waiting patiently on my hard drive to be posted and written about. So I figured it was about time that I continued the series. As you perhaps remember, the last stop was Paris.
After that we hurried on to Amiens, a small town in Picardy, famous for its gothic cathedral (built between 1220 and 1270).
Apart from that, it’s just an ordinary French small town, I guess. See yourself.

Upon arrival, we find the weather decidedly colder than we had experienced in the days before. Button up!

Here we go then! The façade. Much excitement. Amiens was my favourite gothic cathedral back then. (I’ve since decided that it’s not that easy to say.)

Max and a couple of headless martyrs. The sculptures in the embrasure of the portals are worth the visit alone.

Inside. (Can you see the cracks? That’s for trying to get too close to heaven.)

I walked all the way to the centre of the labyrinth.

This is sculpture is called la Vierge Dorée. It used to be gilt, hence the name. It also used to be on the outside of the cathedral, which is why it is no longer gilt.

More martyrdom!? Don’t you love catholicism and its crazy love affair with death? Don’t you love the executioner’s bum? Don’t you love the little dog looking on in wonder? One day I will write a paper on the significance of all the little dogs looking on in wonder in Christian art.

More death love! I would have loved to take this (decidedly un-gothic) little cherub with his skull home with me. It would have been great on my non-existent mantelpiece.

Outside: Official buildings are still decked out in Bastille Day decorations!

Well, well! (Haha, oh no.)

Are you in the mood for some flying buttresses? Honestly. How could you not be?

Me in full interrail gear. Go front-and-backpack!And already we say good-bye to Amiens. Efficient tourism, is what I call that. On to ... LILLE.

Hello, international waters. So the Dutch word for rental is cognate with "whore" and "Hure". Car whoring, anyone?

WAITING FOR THE EUROSTAR!!!

WAITING FOR THE EUROSTAR TOO!!!Bye!

Film time & Bear suit weather

2011-10-15T23:57:00.002+02:00

Today I spent two and a half hours queuing (and freezing) for tickets for the Viennale. As a result I have tickets for: Submarine, Le Havre, L’hypothèse du tableau volé.

Trailers!

Exciting. I will report back upon having watched.

Unfortunately, there is no trailer for L’hypothèse du tableau volé to be had, but instead here’s a picture of Susan Sontag in a bearsuit (photographed by Annie Leibowitz and found in this treasure trove of pictures), and that will be all for today.

.
Good night!

October!

2011-10-14T15:56:00.000+02:00

I figured it was time to kick-start this blog and write something.
I sincerely apologise for being like: "Aiee, lurkers! Y U no say anything!" and then disappearing for almost a month. I’ve been rather busy, and also I’ve been avoiding the blog out of guilt because I promised you Florence pictures, but the film I had developed came back blank and I cried bitter tears. It’s horrible. I will steal some of the digital photos from M.’s camera, though, so the whole trip won’t be entirely undocumented, visual-wise.

Also: What do you know? It’s autumn, already!

Several new things are in my life, like a tutoring job at university, to which I’m supposed to dedicate 2 hours of my week, which is what I get paid for. In reality, I’m kinda working over-time for free, because I really enjoy it (?). It might well be that I am – by nature or nurture – conditioned to be something like a teacher. It’s not a profession that receives much respect these days, but it’s still better than something that might be paraphrased “expert on books and pictures”. Imagine if the experts on books and pictures went on strike! Mayhem! (I’m being facetious, and I also have a strong futility complex.)

Another new thing in my life is actually a lack. Another one of my best friends (dot) has moved away, left the country, buzzed off, cleared out, absquatulated, gone expatriate. Considering the amount of friends I have, this is even more of a tragedy that it would already be if she was just one of many good friends. I made a list, and it turns out, as of now, I have two (2) non-related people in my vicinity who I would without doubt call my friends, and who don’t already have at least 15 people in their life who are much more important to them than I am. And one of them is my boyfriend. Everyone else is scattered across the globe. But the scattered people are not that many either.
I don’t want to moan, this is just something that I’ve been thinking about quite a lot, recently. I’d like a couple more good people in my life. Why am I so crap at making (and keeping) friends? Is there a way I can learn how to be better at it? Open University or something? I’m puzzled.

But anyway. Here’s two autumn outfits that I made today. I wanted them to reflect my new boring trademark style.

Allons-y au cinéma! by housewitheyebrows

October Staple by housewitheyebrows

Safe as Houses.

2011-09-14T12:49:00.000+02:00

Staying indoors?

Lately I’ve been wondering who the people who read this blog are.

Now, I know that a few of my friends read it more or less regularly, and they are the ones who leave comments, if they do. But unless the blogger statistics are lying to me (which I am not fully convinced they’re not), there are more of you.

Hello? How’s it going? Are you here frequently, or are these just coincidental hits followed by speedy and panicky retreats?

Who are you, where you’re from? What do you like? Where do you live?

I’m sometimes having a hard time writing into the void, so this is an attempt to probe and chart the unknown anonymity and fill it with faces and places. Drop me a note, will you?

Unadulterated pleasure.

2011-09-12T10:17:00.000+02:00

I’m reading a book called Letters between Forster and Isherwood on Homosexuality and Literature, although the title is somewhat misleading, as the content of their letters isn’t at all restricted to those two themes, – mostly it’s just adorable invitations and attempts to meet up and then tragically missing each other, much like life in the twentyfirst century when your mobile phone battery is empty, but with the added tension of impending World War, and the increasing dilemma of how to deal with it on a personal level, both in very abstract and very, very real and specific ways, as in: “My lover is German, how on Earth is that going to work out???”. D:

I’m finding it wonderful and endlessly quotable. I think the personal memories and/or letters of literary people are my favourite thing to read by now, I don’t really know why. Obviously it’s because they’re always incredibly well written and witty, but what has happened to me + novels? I seem to be more and more interested in non-fiction. It’s strange. Is it a growing up thing? Can’t be, right? Adults do read fiction. Am I infested by a sort of high(er)-brow reality TV worm?
Anyway, you must bear with me whenever quotes from there crop up throughout my blog posts in the near future.

T., you must read the book!

“If you happen to be in Greece, please come and call. All you have to do is to get to Chalkis by train, then persuade some farmer to bring you as far as Chalia with his cart, from whence half an hour’s brisk donkey ride will bring you to the shore. From the shore you must shout very loud, and I will come over in a boat and fetch you.”
Isherwood to Forster, 1933

On an unrelated note, I like these kids:

Impressions of Bulgaria, Part 4 (Food)

2011-09-09T08:15:00.001+02:00

Before I will tell you any more ’bout Firenze, I’d like to get Bulgaria over and done with. So here’s the 4th and last batch of pictures, themed FOOD.
I admit that I was a bit worried about food, before I went to Bulgaria. It was right after my decision to turn vegetarian again, and I wasn’t really sure if the local cuisine would include an ample amount of vegetarian dishes or if I would have to live on bread and cheese alone (which isn’t per se such a bad thing). But it turned out, yes. Bulgarians do eat a lot of salad and their vegetables are wonderful. Most main dishes do contain meat, but there’s usually a way to somehow meander around them, and I never had to go to bed hungry. The contrary! Just one thing: it’s absolutely pointless if you ask the waiter at a restaurant if something contains meat. Meat seems to mean ‘a piece of meat’, so if something just contains minced meat or bacon, they will gladly assure you that it is a meat free dish.

First evening feast – Starters. Here we have the ever-present cucumbers and tomatoes, as well as Snezhanka Salad (the Bulgarian version of Tzatziki), some sort of Cream Cheese Paprika concoction (yum!) as well as Ljutenitsa (sauce of tomatoes, peppers, eggplants, etc.). All served on top of an enormous piece of flat bread, as you will see when you look closely enough.

First evening feast – Main course. Apart from the ubiquitous grilled chops which I didn’t have and which aren’t that interesting anyway, here we have a nice bean stew, and absolutely wonderful baby potatoes in a garlic-dill-sauce. How come I haven’t yet made these at home?! I remember writing that on my mental to do list as soon as I tasted them.

Chips from a ratty take-away in the middle of nowhere. Usually there would be grated white cheese (a manouri-like sort) on top of it, sadly not in this case. I did like the little salt cellar chef, though.

The typical Bulgarian flatbread called Parlenka. It’s sooooooo good.

So as I said, about one week before I went to Bulgaria, I had decided that I wouldn’t eat meat or fish any more. I do, however, make exceptions when I am by the seaside and I have it on good authority that the seafood is locally caught. This was the last time I had fish – we all shared a platter with an assortment of Black Sea fish, as well as these tiny fried anchovies, so-called tsatsas. They were absolutely worth overcoming my queasy qualms when it comes to swallowing fish whole. But it was fine, there was nothing unwelcome to be tasted. In fact, with a little lemon juice drizzled on top, and accopanied by Snezhanka Salad, they were delicious!

I’m a bit shocked that I never took a picture of a Shopska salad, which was indeed what I existed on mostly during my stay in Bulgaria. The recipe is always a little different, so it doesn’t get boring, but the main ingredients: cucumbers, tomatoes, grated white cheese on top. It’s all you need on a hot day, really. I love it.

Back From Firenze.

2011-09-07T14:22:00.002+02:00

I have returned from Florence with a travel bag stuffed with new impressions and so much to blog about. I have no photos yet because most of them are on film, and Max has taken the digital camera away (;() so I cannot get right to work.

But, meanwhile, let me share two photo-booth-photos of postcards that show details in Michelangelo’s Night and Day sculptures from the tomb of Giuliano de’ Medici.

Details are the best.

By the way, the unfinished face of “Day” (not pictured) is one of the scariest and most fascinating things I have ever experienced in art. It is absolutely arresting to me.

I have lost my voice.

2011-08-31T08:57:00.002+02:00

I have not been writing anything of substance during the last few months.
And indeed, it’s been years since I felt I had anything to say.
The question is, what am I so scared about? The answer is, I’m “scared” of not being good enough. “Scared” of my thoughts being too unoriginal, or not well enough put. “Scared” that my taste in things is so bad that I don’t even know which of my thoughts are worth saying out loud or writing down, and which aren’t. A while ago, someone or other has told me – relating to a completely different subject, but that is irrelevant – that I’m not really as great as I seem to think, and it just won’t leave me alone. I am constantly comparing myself to others, and concluding that I’m not fit to hold a candle to them. Why are they so much better than me? Envy turns into resentment, and I turn into a bitter cynical misanthrope. Then at times, I tell myself that this whole blogging thing is nothing but a narcissistic, specular, exhibitionist circus world that I don’t think I want to participate in anyways. And fear not, I think the same of the real world, in general, too. From time to time.

Also, I assume, I’ve lost something, and that is time to reflect. Time in which I am alone with myself, left to marinate in my own essence, so to speak. I don’t think everyone is like that, but for me, when I am with another person, or other persons (a lot), I forget myself a bit. I start existing exclusively in the space between me and the other person. I am de-centered. I put myself out into the creative commons. And I lose my own grip on myself.
The above, for some reason, has made it impossible to write anything that is in any way profound, because I don’t even think profoundly. I don’t have to. Everything just trinkles past, in an everlong, inconsequential stream
There might be other reasons as well. But those I dare not think, because they are inacceptable.

This is why there have been only pictures, lately.
And nothing interesting.
Sometimes I read things, and then I think, well, obviously. I’ve thought of that before.
But I didn’t write it down. Perhaps because I was too self-conscious and thought it wasn’t that impressive to begin with. But more likely because I was simply too lazy to put the thoughts into words.

tl;dr?
Pictures were taken in and outside of Westlicht gallery, Vienna.
Have a nice day.

Impressions of Bulgaria, Part 3 (Random Town and Country)

2011-08-21T20:15:00.001+02:00

Impressions of Bulgaria, Part 2 (Churches and Walls)

2011-08-15T20:58:00.007+02:00

As I went to Bulgaria as a part of an art history field trip, most of our time was spent looking at brickwork, buildings and battlements. And of course churches. Especially the brickwork on churches.

Sibylle Bergemann

2011-08-08T09:57:00.001+02:00

If I was in Berlin, or had a chance to go any time soon, I’d love to see the Sibylle Bergemann exhibition ”Polaroids” at the C/O.

“I am interested in the margin of the world, not the center. For me, it is the non-interchangable that is crucial. When something in the faces or landscapes is not quite right.”
Sibylle Bergemann

(How perfect is that last photo of a girl on a swing in the Mauerpark? I am absolutely in love with it.)

Something for the Weekend

2011-08-08T09:11:00.000+02:00

Things I enjoyed this weekend:

Picking up the first, tiny, red apples that had fallen from the trees – We’ll be juicing them soon!
Engaging barter trade – I gave my friend’s family a bottle of home made apricot syrup and received a pound of bacon and home grown tomatoes and peppers in return. (I think the swap was a bit uneven, I might have to bring a few more bottles next time.)
Going for a long run with my mum (or make that, having gone for a long run, because running is just one of the things that I cannot really enjoy doing, but do them entirely for the great feeling of having done them) and then swimming across the lake and back. Yay!
Reading more and more about Kara Walker and her disconcerting scissor cut art ...
Apricot cake!
A Saturday night of videos and Scrabble ... A Sunday night of getting drunk and not getting into a concert and sitting around outside discussing the world’s problems.

And here are some pictures.

Impressions of Bulgaria, Part 1 (Soviet Aesthetics)

2011-07-29T12:39:00.004+02:00

A Rainy Picture.

2011-07-25T17:13:00.003+02:00

Max.

Summer Food: Tofu Chili Wraps

2011-07-23T20:39:00.005+02:00

A while ago, Max and I made these Tofu Chili Wraps, a nice, vegetarian alternative to meaty Burritos. I really love making these in the summer, because sometimes, even though it’s really hot, I don’t want to forego cooked meals altogether, and this recipe is a nice sort of in-between option that can be varied freely on a scale from fresh and salady to hot and filling.
Strange though, if you look at traditional cuisines, spicy food and hot weather don’t seem to be a contradiction. In fact, spicy food seems to be expecially popular in countries with a hot climate? I’ve been wondering for a while if there’s some hidden logic to it, or some underlying scientific reason, so if anybody has a clue, enlighten me.

Anyways - tofu chili wraps: I’ll tell you how we made them, although there’s basically nothing to it - you more or less just have to throw all the ingredients into a frying pan, and then roll them up in a tortilla with some lettuce and sour cream.
Another reason why this is a good recipe for the summer - minimize the time spent in a stuffy kitchen - maximize the time spent outside in the sun or immersed in a lake.
So here are the basic ingredients:

Ingredients:
1 block of firm tofu, cut into small cubes
1 onion, chopped finely
1 small can of sweet corn
1 small can of kidney beans
200g mushrooms (optional, because not a typical ingredient of chili, but I think we had some left over in the fridge, and I am ever happy to improvise. In my kitchen, supply usually influences demand. I encourage you to do the same and utilise whatever leftover vegetable you have that goes well in chili - especially bell peppers or green beans, but also courgettes, carrots, whatever you like!)
1 cup tomato puree
1/2 tsp chili powder (you can use fresh chilis as well, although I'm not sure of the equivalent amount in terms of spiciness)
2 cloves garlic, crushed
1/2 tsp cumin
fresh parsley, chopped
salt, pepper to taste

Classic pan-fry procedure: Heat oil in a frying pan, add onions, fry until golden, add crushed garlic and tofu, fry until browned and a bit crispy (it’s no problem if it breaks into smaller bits). Add sweet corn and kidney beans along with the tomato puree and cook for about 7 minutes. Season.
Ready.

Line some tortillas with some lettuce (and maybe some sliced cucumbers, carrots, and other crudités if you desire), add filling and sour cream, and voila.
Perfect summer food.

If only we tried.

2011-07-14T18:56:00.004+02:00

Cites could have lungs.

Ghosting.

2011-06-12T17:21:00.001+02:00

Hello world. Sorry for the longish absence.
I’m back, now, and have a huge bunch of pictures and impressions of Bulgaria in store. But beware. A lot of it is going to be about byzantine architecture or wall paintings or masonry. Sorry, if that’s boring for many of you, only not really.
I can appease you by throwing some food in as well.

Tomorrow I’d like ...

2011-05-15T21:42:00.003+02:00

Warm sun and a fresh breeze, cool blues and browns, a bicycle ride with Julien Ribot in my ears, a lawn and a tree to lean my back against, to do some work outdoors, to make a map, to look at paintings of seascapes.
To feel light and the wind in my hair.

All I Need by housewitheyebrows

I’m turning 25 tomorrow.
I have no words.

How to make Elderflower Syrup!

2011-05-14T12:00:00.001+02:00

Today we’re making Elderflower Syrup.
First let me tell you why.
Because once you know how to do that, you will never have to buy sugary soft drinks any more, even if once in a while you get a craving for a sugary soft drink. Because homemade Elderflower Syrup is still loads cheaper than any sugary soft drinks you get in the supermarket (I haven’t acutally done the math but I’m sure if one were to do it one would end up with really impressive figures). Because in case of your own homemade syrup you know that all the ingredients are 100% natural, and you get absolutely no icky additives or artificial flavours. Because, have you tried shop bought Elderflower syrup, and compared it to the homemade version? The latter is ridiculous amounts of better. Because, every spring hundreds of elder trees are flowering, probably also in your vicinity, and they’re like a gift of nature that you absolutely should not let go to waste. Because it’s absolutely fabulous to make stuff yourself, especially when using ingredients that are just growing in the wild.

I think that’s just about enough advertisment for my product, right?
Let’s get going.

What you’ll need:

approx. 30 umbels of elderflower blossoms
2 litres of fresh water
4 kg of sugar
100 g citric acid (granulated)
5 untreated lemons

a pot large enough to hold water + sugar (6-7 litres)
a large plastic container with a lid (like a large mixing bowl, dough bowl or perhaps a cake container turned upside down)

1. Go for a walk, find a nice solitary elder tree, and get cutting. Bring home your spoils in a wickerbasket (optional).

2. Briefly rinse the elderflower umbels under hot tapwater to remove any unwanted residents like bugs. The water must not be too hot or boiling, or your elder flowers will wilt and turn brown. Also do not rinse for too long, or you will wash away all the sweet and aromatic pollen. Place the flowers in your plastic container and set aside.

3. Cut the lemons into slices, they should be about 3 mm thick – the thinner, the more aroma they will give off. Add to plastic container.

4. Heat the water in the pot. When hot, stir in the sugar. Reduce to medium to low heat and keep stirring, because it will both help the sugar to dissolve, and keep it from burning at the bottom of the pot.

5. When the sugar is fully dissolved and you are left with a homogeneous syrup, gradually pour it over the flowers and the lemon slices. Again, watch out that the syrup is not boiling hot at this point.

6. Add the citric acid and give your mixture a stir.

7. Cover with the lid and let your syrup rest and soak for 7 days. There is no need to refrigerate it (we usually just place it on the patio) – just keep it safe from ants!

8. When finished, fill your Elderflower Syrup into bottles (you can re-use any glass bottle with a screw top, as long as it’s clean!). Store in a cool, dark place. Give away as a present. Enjoy in a tall glass, with ice cubes and a slice of lemon.

Interrail #7

2011-05-08T09:30:00.006+02:00

It’s been months since my last Interrail post, right? I thought it was about time to get another one done. And hence, on this cloudy Sunday, we arrive in a similarly rainy Paris for a brief stopover, on Juillet 14 - national holiday, day of parades, free museum entries and heavy rainfall endangering historical sites!

Parades!

Wet frenchmen on wet horses. Is this a bad time to mention Waterloo?

Sainte Chapelle - lower level

Pardon my obsession ...

And again ...

Vaults: They are not what they seem.

Palais de Justice.

Buildings, buildings, buildings.

Sudden irony in front of the Musé d’Orsay

Max at our dodgy youth hostel!

As a tragic consequence of the camera-unfriendly weather, far too few pictures taken that day. :(

Bumpics.

2011-05-06T16:53:00.002+02:00

(via everydayishow)

Let’s go and take bumpics and talk about feminism.
Today’s song comes from PJ Harvey.

Bikes and Flowers

2011-04-27T14:36:00.002+02:00

I have a bike again! And after a pretty fantastic diy paintjob, it’s the most beautiful shade of green.
I absolutely need to spraypaint more things!

There should always be flowers in my room.

Romanesco-Potato-Gratin for Noobs

2011-04-15T21:05:00.007+02:00

A while ago Max and I made delicious Romanesco-Potato-Gratin. In case you’re unfamiliar with romanesco broccoli, it looks and tastes more or less like a mongrel between cauliflower and broccoli, and also it looks like fractals. It’s really beautiful.
Now, the recipe here is not really anything special – pretty straightforward gratin stuff, but I thought, I might as well include a recipe with the pictures, in case any of you want to try it and don’t like to do their gratins improv style off the top of their heads like I usually do.

To feed 2 hungry persons you will need:
1 head of romanesco broccoli
an adequate amount of potatoes
2 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons flour
500 ml/1 pint milk
2-4 cloves of garlic
a mixture of herbs after your own taste (parsley, basic, thyme, chives, oregano, majoram), fresh or dried
salt, pepper, nutmeg
200 g grated cheese (pick a sort that melts well, like mozarella, emmental, whatever you like really)

First, parboil the potatoes in a large saucepan with plenty of salted water until just about tender. The time this requires depends very much on the size of the potatoes you’re using, so it’s best to check how hard the potatoes are with a fork every once in a while. It should take about 10 to 15 minutes. They’re going to be cooked some more once they’re in the oven, so they don’t have to be completely done when you take them out.
While the potatoes are on the hub, cut the romanesco broccoli into small florets. Best do this by turning it upside down, and cutting down and around the main stem with a large knife. The florets will naturally separate, or will require only a little more help to come apart. If you want you can chop the stem into small pieces and use it, or you can discard it. Then blanch the romanesco in boiling, salted water until just about tender - I guess 5 minutes should do. The florets should be less crunchy than when raw, but still firm when you take them out of the water. Don’t overcook them, or they will lose their beautiful shapes and turn into mash.

You can then fill your casserole dish with layer of sliced potatoes and romanesco florets, as pictured above.
It’s also high time to preheat your oven to around 200°C/390°F. You’ll have to look up the equivalent of that in gas oven terms, because I have NO EXPERIENCE WHATSOEVER with those.
Then, make the bechamel sauce. For this, melt the butter in a saucepan over medium to low heat, then mix in the flour, stirring constantly to get rid of any lumps. It should have the consistency of a smooth paste, neither too runny nor too thick. If you find either is the case, you can add more flour or butter, respectively. If you notice that the mixture is browning too quickly, lift the saucepan off the heat and continue stirring. If the consistency is right, stir in the milk. Start with a small amount, whisk it through to remove any lumps. Then add the rest of the milk, stirring constantly. Add crushed garlic, and dried herbs – if you are using them – to the sauce, and season with salt and pepper. Continue cooking, and stirring for 5 to 10 minutes, until the sauce has thickened considerably. At the very end of the cooking process, add the nutmeg, and fresh herbs – if you are using them.

When your sauce looks something like this, it is ready to meet Mssrs. Potato and Romanesco.

Introduce them!

And to make sure they get along, add the amazing social lubricant known as cheese. Sprinkled evenly across the top, it will guarantee maximum cohesion once things heat up. Which they will, as soon as you pop the whole thing into the oven.

Take out the casserole after 15 to 20 minutes or whenever you see that the cheese has begun just to brown on top, which is the moment when the gratin will be most delicious.
Enjoy.

Wille zum Schein.

2011-04-13T19:46:00.007+02:00

I love this passage of Ruskin’s in The Seven Lamps of Architecture where he muses about gothic vaults and whether it is acceptable to use architectural elements which pretend to be something else than they are. The metaphors are so overpoweringly beautiful that you hardly notice that they are actually pretty hard to align with the argument they are designed to support.

Now, there is a nice question of conscience in this, which we shall hardly settle but by considering that, when the mind is informed beyond the possibility of mistake as to the true nature of things, the affecting it with a contrary impression, however distinct, is no dishonesty, but on the contrary, a legitimate appeal to the imagination. For instance, the greater part of the happiness which we have in contemplating clouds, results from the impression of their having massive, luminous, warm, and mountain-like surfaces; and our delight in the sky frequently depends upon our considering it as a blue vault. But we know the contrary in both instances; we know the cloud to be a damp fog, or adrift of snow-flakes; and the sky to be a lightless abyss. There is, therefore, no dishonesty, while thereis much delight, in the irresistibly contrary impression.

I’m enjoying the rhetorics and the Victorian pecularity of making every issue a question of morality.

A While Ago

2011-04-13T11:19:00.003+02:00

Posing in the staircase; Birgit Jürgenssen Exhibition.

I’m happy again.

2011-04-01T19:49:00.002+02:00

Today I got rained on by an amazingly dramatic, Hollywoodesque April shower that seemingly came out of nowhere and was quickly replaced by beaming sunshine again. I ran but got soaked to the skin through my trenchcoat, and then huddled beneath a bus shelter with a crowd of boisterous school kids, who were singing “I’m singing in the rain”, loudly, and completely out of tune. It struck me that, probably, none of them had ever heard the song in the original. (They might know it from Glee, though.)

Can acting silly in public and not caring what others think please go back in style?

Some emotional panic including inevitable hyperbole.

2011-03-30T12:36:00.001+02:00

Not having your head confined to the bubble you’re living in can cause difficulties, like knowing of the existence of an outside world and wanting to go there but not being able to ever do that without bursting the bubble and making everything you ever had fall into the bottomless abyss.

(via nickel cobalt)

I’m having, as they say, a bad day.

Some discontent. Diverse influences.

2011-03-27T14:52:00.002+02:00

(via everyday i show)

from John Ruskin’s Seven Lamps of Architecture

from John Ruskin’s The Stones of Venice

(via everyday i show)

The Church Sveta Nedelya in Sofia, Bulgaria, after its destruction in 1925 (via here)

(Claude Cahun (1894-1954), Femme au balcon)

(Claude Cahun (1894-1954), Selfportrait)

This “Everyday I Show” blog is truly the best thing I’ve found in a while. EXCLUSIVELY wonderful pictures. I want there to be more like this. I want to be aesthetically forcefed. Or something.
So random.

Hey Senorita!

2011-03-19T11:11:00.001+01:00

Anyone feeling down? Just take a page out of these guys’ book!

I’m currently jumping around my bedroom in a similar manner while listening to Paul Simon and doing my spring cleaning. There is no particular reason to be in a good mood, but I just am. Thank you, music.

“There is a girl in New York City who calls herself the human trampoline.”

Things I Like 11/03/11

2011-03-11T23:10:00.000+01:00

Random Things I Like 11/03/11 von housewitheyebrows

Cavalry Twill Trousers (American Apparel)
Tit (haha) Print Sweater (New Look)
Wooden Heeled Sandals (Zara)
The Moon And Sixpence by William Somerset Maugham (my Mum’s old Penguin edition from 1977, complete with borderline racist cover design)
Primroses symbolising the advent of spring
Matryoshka Measuring Cups (pretty neat gimmick, if you’re not as OCD about pointlessly dirtying dishes as me)
Grey Nail Polish (H&M)
Kohlrabi
Allo Darlin’’s album Allo Darlin’ (Double apostrophe for the win!)
Dinosaur Plastic Necklace
Green olives with pit
Green Loafers

Not at all liking:

The current situation in Japan. :(

Allo Darlin’ ...

2011-03-05T19:06:00.002+01:00

Dear Allo Darlin’!
Thanks for making my prevening by playing a fantastic demi-accoustic gig at Record Bag. You were rad.
Yours,
D.

PS: And cheers to Ms. dot for the heads up!

Apropos Bookday.

2011-03-04T10:00:00.001+01:00

Have I died and gone to heaven?

2011-03-02T21:58:00.001+01:00

(from Stylish Wanderer)

Gimme, gimme!

Things I Like 11/02/25

2011-02-26T14:58:00.002+01:00

I’m one day late, sht, don’t tell anyone.

Things I Like 11/02/25 von housewitheyebrows auf Polyvore.com

Bicycle Totebag (ELLE)
Nostalgic Milk Jug (Good Green Gifts)
JUGS (Jack Russel-Pug Mongrels)
Acorn Pendant
Striped Swimsuit (New Look)
Fox Earpins (ASOS)
Tapestry Brogues (New Look)
Floral Cardigan/Bolero (LaRedoute)
Piglet Ballerina “Socks” (New Look)
Sandcoloured Fifties Skirt
Sandcoloured Parka
Cute Bento Box
Platform Sandals (Free People)
Everything from Green Gate (not pictured)

Go West.

2011-02-22T16:25:00.004+01:00

Last week Max and me joined my parents for a couple of days in the snow. We went skiing and snowboarding - actual visual proof of this remains on my mum’s mobile phone, because I wasn’t insane enough to take my huge Canon up on the mountain with me. Here’s a couple of pics from the train and Altenmarkt, the town where we stayed. (Here’s a map.)

Things I Like 11/02/11

2011-02-11T19:56:00.001+01:00

Things I Like 11/02/11 by housewitheyebrows

Green Heart-Pattern Cardigan (Anthropologie)
Tote Bags With Prints (Alphabet Bags)
Frog Necklace (Topshop)
Poäng Rocking Chair w/ Woodland Print (IKEA)
Sweet Sweet Moon CD (Siluh Records)
Chocolate Bath Towel (IKEA)
Black Diagonal Stripe Tights (Topshop)
Wooden Platforms (French Connection)
Ryebread, Ricotta Cheese and Strawberry Jam (The Ultimate Combination)
Black Ruche One-Piece Bathing Suit (Modcloth)
Racoon Hat
Red Satchel (Cambridge Satchels)

Interrail, #6: Avignon

2011-02-08T15:11:00.003+01:00

Wow, another Interrail post, and it’s about time! (If I keep up this pace, I won’t be finished before June.)
After Nice, Max and I made our way North, heading for Paris, but incorporating Avignon into our itinerary. We didn’t spend the night – we arrived there by TGV in the early morning, and left again in the evening, to take the last TGV to Paris – but this small stop-over, in retrospect, feels like an important part of the trip, and if I remember correctly, Avignon even made it into the top 5 of places visited in 2010.
Avignon is famous for its annual theatre festival, and it’s important to know that on July 13th, the day we spent there, this festival was in full spate - that means that not only were the streets plastered with theatre posters, but also were they filled with actors, thespians, mimes, some of them in full dress up, who spent the daytime advertising for the plays of the evening. There was a carnivalesque sort of atmosphere, very appropriate for the quaint little town with its winding cobbled streets, and its medieval architecture. Of course we didn’t miss the papal palace – which featured an interesting exhibition by Miquel Barceló – and what’s left of the famous bridge. (Although I think we refrained from dancing on it?)

But enough text, let’s have the pictures.

Max is being touristy in front of the Hôtel de Ville.

Theatre - That’s what it’s all about!

A Miquel Barceló sculpture in front of the Papal Palace.

Model of the Palace. (I love models. <3)

Inside the palace. The expression of the man in the background, who has just realised that a photo is being taken, is pretty priceless.

That’s what I call a well-kept lawn.

Cheese-shot.

Ah, stained glass!

Ah, Christian art!

Not so Christian art. Barceló being positively heathen.

Heathen.

Square.

What’s up there? I don’t even remember.

Some rock-architecture-symbiosis, and some more theatre posters.

Voilà, le pont.

More of a pier now ...

The papal palace from the outside ...

There is always a flea market.

Random Things I Like (11/01/28)

2011-01-28T21:39:00.001+01:00

Moleskine Sketchbook
The Royal Tenenbaums DVD - Criterion Edition
Braided Hair
The Boring-but-Nice Outfit That I ordered Today: Striped Jumper, Skirt, Shoes. (Topshop)
Toast-shaped Cutting Board
To-Die-For White-and-Brown Shoes (Modcloth)
King Cole Merino Blend Yarn in Grey and Black
Umberto Eco’s Foucault’s Pendulum
Celeber Spice Containers (Ikea)
Homemade Apple Sauce
William Kentridge’s Five Themes at the Albertina in Vienna
Swedish Hasbeens High Heel Clogs (featured to illustrate my ongoing obsession with finding a beautiful, affordable and available shoe in that style ...)

Cats.

2011-01-27T21:08:00.001+01:00

Cats. Why are cats so great? What about them is it that makes them so attractive, so disarming?
Discuss.

Pictures taken last summer.

Things of Beauty: Moleskine Art

2011-01-27T12:56:00.008+01:00

(Images are linked to sources, click through.)

(joe whitmore)

(quarksoup.)

(Unicorn Hair)

(Paul Chan)

(Angelo Rodrígues)

(lari.fari)

(LBeto)

(andrea joseph)

Next present to give myself: a sketchbook.

2011-01-26T08:54:00.003+01:00

I recommend you all participate in the Tacky Souvenir Swap initiated by andrea over at The Art Of Staying Up All Night.
It sounds like a fun opportunity to support the local souvenir industry, obtain yet more clutter, and give poor snail-mail post office clerks a bit more to do! Go on, join in. I’ve already signed up.

Random Things I Like (11/01/21)

2011-01-21T21:47:00.006+01:00

Commodities, commodities, commodities!

Things I like (11/01/21) von housewitheyebrows

Coral Suede Espadrilles (Topshop)**
Sealpoint Cats***
Charles Darwin’s The Origin Of The Species & Evolutionary Theory in General*
Rumkugeln*
Ikea Bedsheets**
Light Blue Cast Iron Mini Casseroles (Martha Steward)***
Alverde Braun Shampoo*
Brogues (Madewell)***
Polka Dot T-shirt with Peter Pan Collar (Pimkie)**
Brown Cardigan
Dark Tan Leather Satchel***
Green Batwing Jumper***
Key Pendant Necklace
Lemon Heart Punchout Skinny Belt (Topshop)**

* I own it.
** I want it and know where to get it.
*** I shall dream of it for a while.

Mission complete.

2011-01-21T14:12:00.002+01:00

Celebration! It’s not only a town in Florida, but also what I’m doing (mostly in my head) right now.
Yesterday, January 20th, 2011, I had my big final exam and have hence completed my Anglistik (English Studies) degree at the University of Vienna. Yay! I have an academic title now, isn’t that something?
What’s also immensely pleasant is the ability to do something not studies-related while being completely guilt free for the first time in almost a year.

Life’s good. Have a hug.

Sophie Madeleine - The Rhythm You Started

2011-01-11T13:49:00.003+01:00

Things I like about this song and video:

1. Ukulele!
2. Stop Motion in the Garden
3. Likely Wellies
4. Pillowfight
5. Wooden Cabin

Eleven/Ten.

2011-01-09T12:54:00.005+01:00

An outfit inspired by the Eleventh Doctor!
Well, it started as a joke, but now I want this pretty badly. (Apart from the fish fingers and custard!)

Bowties are cool, man.

ANOTHER OUTFIT inspired by the 10th doctor!

I hope you all noticed that I used the appropriate shades of Tardis-blue. Oh my.

Clue(do).

2011-01-09T11:15:00.005+01:00

Friedensreich Hundertwasser with a tree in 1970s Milan.
(I found this while researching for my art history presentation, and it is quite random.)

And here is a classic boring outfit that I kind of wish I could wear any day. I call it the Bread & Cheese of outfits. Work to do equals polyvore addiction, or so it would seem.

Largeness of Mind.

2011-01-05T19:55:00.010+01:00

Today I went to the Library of the Technical University to copy an indispensable article on this building for my art history presentation. It was my first time there and I was struck by how cosy and comfortable everything was, on the one hand, and how well equipped the library was, on the other hand. (Magnificent and free scanners? Who knew?) Obviously - and everybody knew that anyway - the arts/humanities have to pay for their uselessness not only by being the target of much public disdain but also by being financially disadvantaged. But no point in moaning, is there? Besides, the toilets there are not only smelly but they also have anti-junkie lights a combination which didn’t fail to make me feel physically sick.

We then went to the market and to the record shop where I bought Element of Crime’s new cover album. Yay for unexpected purchases.

Then we went home and made Pad Thai, of which no evidence remains; and I melancholically decided that now that Christmas is behind us, it’s about time that the weather goes back to conditions which facilitate cycling and the wearing of outfits such as this one:

You should probably listen to this song/watch this video:

Approximately 10 Resolutions.

2011-01-03T12:10:00.003+01:00

My plans to improve my life during the next year are all formulated in the positive. There is nothing I want to get rid of apart from certain emptinesses, repetitivenesses and failures in execution.

Do more ...

... (proper) reading
... going to museums (and not missing exhibitions all the time!)
... language learning (Russian? Italian?)
... travelling (the Balkans? Istanbul? Scandinavia? Wales? Florence/Tuscany again? ???)
... crafting (knitting, crocheting, making twee jewellery, etc.)
... film watching/cinema going
... body moving
... food exploring (both in my own kitchen and abroad)
... flat optimising and beautifying
... and also blogging, in a more committed way?

(via here.)

In other words, I would like to waste my time in a meaningful way.
I will go about this in a systematic way.

Interrail, #5: Nice

2010-12-22T12:09:00.002+01:00

Hello, thar, I thought it was about time to continue the endless project of Interrail picture posts, and thus we timetravel back to July and arrive in Nice - with a set of pictures that are, from a meteorological standpoint, highly inappropriate for the Christmas season. But let’s have them anyways.

Hanna.

2010-12-21T20:00:00.000+01:00

Very intriguing. I think I will want to watch this.

(Haven’t we always somehow known that Briony would turn out like this? She’s fierce.)

Snow - Snow - Snow

2010-12-20T17:46:00.007+01:00

New and unheard Pallettiana ... listenable here ...! Squee! (No. 6!)
(I kind of love how on Soundcloud you can comment on any single second of a recording.)

The well known view from my bedroom window, on Saturday.

And the view from the tram on the Ringstraße on Sunday morning

Schnee-Burg

My parents’ back garden looked like this today, at dawn.
There’s a yet naked, yet chilled christmas tree, also.

I’m loving the cold weather and snow, but I’m disconcerted by its effect on air traffic (of course not quite unselfishly). My fingers are therefore crossed for friends and lovers trying to return to their homes from abroad before Christmas - can you imagine the horror of spending your Christmas separated from loved ones, warmth, food and presents, but surrounded by hundreds of grumpy strangers, camping in an airport?

Experiments with Beetroot ...

2010-12-11T20:37:00.003+01:00

In an attempt to buy most of my food as locally as possible, I’ve been using more winter vegetables than ever before this year. As I don’t have much experience with them, a good deal of experimenting and exploring is going on. One example: beetroot.

I’m not really sure if I like them in savory dishes but their wonderful sweetness makes them the perfect ingredient for cakes, as a possible, equally juicy replacement for courgettes, carrots or the like. Here, I tried beetroot cupcakes (using this recipe) with walnuts and cream cheese frosting and their aroma was really quite fascinating. Very earthy, almost a bit like forest soil ... but in a good way, if that’s imaginable? It worked really well with the nuts and the cheesy, creamy sweetness of the frosting.

Nom.

Activism.

2010-12-10T13:47:00.003+01:00

I finally came round to downloading a couple of ancient photos from my camera. Here’s some from the demonstration against the government’s planned cut of child benefit on October 28th in Vienna. As you can see, due to the rather more complacent and laid back (and probably timid) mentality of The Austrian People (as well as our police), this demonstration (as well as the many others that have been happening during the last 12 months) was considerably less riot-y and violent than what is going on in the UK at the moment.
It seems the world is hardly doing anything but protesting these days. I wonder if this means anything, at all, to the people it is actually addressed to (politicians). The answer is potentially very depressing, so let’s just leave the question standing there.
And photos.

Partners in crime. Morale: high!

Augustin is Vienna’s Big Issue. Demonstrations = Hordes of politically aware and predominantly socialist/left wing people in one place = Great business for this guy. (Or so I assume!)

Instruments of protest

This photo was an accident, but I really like it.

...

Whoops, anonymity.

Will we still be able to afford books next year?

Heading towards the crime site ...

Darkness falls over Austria. You may read this in a figurative sense.

Winter Baking

2010-11-29T17:10:00.002+01:00

It’s the time for baking wintery cakes and smittenkitchen’s applesauce cake recipe is simply brilliant for using up the apples from my Mum’s tree. I’ve made the cake in cupcake form before, and now I’ve tried my new mini-guglhupf forms.
Aren’t they dainty and lovely? Sadly, there’s no possibility to convey their amazing spicy cinnamonny smell and taste via the internet. You’ll have to come round and try one!

Unite, despite.

2010-11-25T13:12:00.000+01:00

Timberland Fold-Down Fleece Boots!

You will be mine, and winter and snow will not be able to hurt me!
Also, I will stop shopping incontrollably (I’ve also already bought a new power adaptor for a synthesizer today) as of NOW, because shopping incontrollably is not to be approved of, especially not in the holiday season when everybody else is susceptible to it and you’re supposed to lead by example and not join in. Incidentially, I hope you’ll all remember that it’s BUY NOTHING DAY on Friday/Saturday.

(Oh, the sad irony of this post. Now we know where the ‘post’ in postmodern comes from.)

It’s all downhill from here.

2010-11-23T17:17:00.000+01:00

Yesterday, I took my diploma thesis to the bookbinder.
That’s a weight off my mind.
You cannot imagine.
Suddenly there’s room in my thoughts for questions like:
“Why doesn’t Voldemort sound more like he has a cold?”

And I’m reading fiction.
Not analysing fiction. Or reading theory.

Interrail, #4: Cinque Terre

2010-11-08T12:58:00.003+01:00

Cue the sea, the sun, and the ligurian coast, in the midst of this damp November Monday.

Max on a boat: On the day we leave Florence for La Spezia and the Cinque Terre, the Italian rail are on strike ... We have to take a very early commuter train that is exempt from the strike, and then a ferry - which is more fun than Max’s facial expression gives away.

This is the sea, and the town you can see on the horizon is Portovenere.

Precariously perched. I like how the buildings are exactly the same grey colour as the rocks they are built on. Obviously, the rocks were used to build the buildings.

The rather more provincial version of Italian Gothic. But the stripes (see Siena) cannot miss.

Riomaggiore. It’s kind of breathtaking how these villages are nestled into the side of the cliffs and the vineyards above them, like colourful buildingblocks just tumbling down towards the sea.

More happiness.

Left Luggage options in Monterosso: The tourist office is not interested in keeping our luggage while we wait for the evening ferry to take us to the next village with a camp ground (Levanto). We unceremoniously decide to ‘hide’ our luggage in a fairly inaccessible spot between the huge boulders lining the bay.

We’re not in favour of public beaches. Most of the time you have to pay, and in either case you have no privacy or room, so we choose the ‘inhospitable’ rocky alternative, close to our bagpacks, exposed to the elements.

Levanto: Campground. Quite urban.

Laundry.

Riomaggiore, again. A postcard-y sort of place.

Meeee.

La Via D'Amore! It’s a clifftop path from Riomaggiore to Manarola (or the other way around), which is dedicated to romantic love, and it’s a tradition for lovers to leave signed padlocks in every place imaginable, or scrawl their names, hearts or messages, again, in every place imaginable. Even the plants are tatooed with love.

<3
Do look down.
Sedimentary rock, flipped by the aeons.

Erm ... just say no, kids!

Disgusting graffiti all over the place ... something something ... your property ... something something? ... report this ... something.
((c) Angry Englishwoman)

In Flagranti! (He’s using a crayon!!)

Aw.

The slantedness of the tracks keeps the train from tumbling into the sea.

Manarola. This is where we later had dinner. Seafood Pasta Vol. #2, to make up for the horrid Seafood Pasta Vol. #1 in Levanto the day before. (Don’t ever take dinner in a gelateria just because it’s cheap, in case you didn’t already know that.)

Gato.

They rape horses, don't they?

2010-11-07T12:15:00.000+01:00

“The Riding Women are evolved women, different in kind from the Free Fems. They are initially the result of the creative opportunism of a group of women used in the genetic experiments of male scientists before the wasting. Following the experiments, these new women possess the complete genetic material to reproduce without men. They produce only girl children. All that is needed to set the process in motion is the fluid from a horse's ejaculation. Most of the women therefore mate with a young horse once or twice in a lifetime, to ensure the survival of the Riding Women. It is highly ritualised and highly pragmatic. The same horse is also slaughtered for its meat, hair and skin. The women are always in total control.” (Elaine Miller, “Zero Tolerance in Wonderland”)

Firstly: What the WHAT?
And also: This is the summary of a book called Motherlines by someone called Suzy McKee Charnas, from an article about lesbian utopian novels that I read today while researching for my diploma thesis. The article is called “Zero Tolerance in Wonderland”, and the ideology reflected in it is (in its detail) new and highly disturbing to me. As the title suggests, it is extremely intolerant – towards men, and just about everything else that is not a separatist lesbian. For example, transsexuals who sneakily ‘invade’ women-only groups are evil. And of course, men are evil. All of them. Because all men are absolutely identical: violent, dangerous, incorrigible. And this is not mainly a result of cultural and social influence, but it is simply fact. Rooted in the fact that they are men. Nothing you can do about that.
So ... the logical consequence of this impressive arguement is that the world is better of killing all men, and replacing them with horses. Because raping a horse is, in any case, highly preferable to having any sort of contact with a man. Aha.
Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not being homophobic here. I’m being intolerance-phobic, and I’m terribly disappointed, because I tend to live under the impression that people who are NOT part of the hegemonially privileged group (western, white, male, heterosexual, middle-class etc.) and therefore subject to some form of oppression, discrimination or marginalisation should actually know better than to advocate a zero tolerance policy in the face of difference and to endorse the violent enforcement of conformity at any cost. Do they not see that they adopting the same stance that currently effects their own oppression, discrimination and marginalisation? I understand anger against patriarchy. I understand anger against men. I understand the desire that some lesbians undoubtedly feel, to withdraw from the oppressive environment of patriarchy into an elitist all-woman society. Personally, I would also love to live in a world where I compile the guest list. But what shocks me in the novels and stories described in that article is the method by which they compile their guest list, and the way they treat the uninvited and the accidential gatecrasher. What disturbs me is the sweeping generalisation by which the behaviour of no doubt many men is taken for an unalterable and probably biologically inscribed fact (and therefore becomes an excuse for their indiscriminate destruction). This is not acceptable (and also simply not very intelligent), especially since this same essentialism is contested in the case of women. So it is possible and necessary to liberate women from their socially and culturally prescribed roles, but simultaneously the only way to liberate men from theirs is to anihilate them? Honestly?

Now, nothing speaks against depicting controversial scenarios and values in art, and I have no problem with that as such. What disconcerts me is the fact that this is called a utopia, in the face of all those very strange values it endorses. You see, I like my utopias to evoke images of harmony and balance, suggesting that we can, after all, all get along somehow, despite our differences. Indiscriminate hate for the other, enforced conformity and idealisation of genocide? Not so much. Sounds too much like reality.

What???

2010-11-04T10:45:00.003+01:00

????????????

Words.

2010-10-28T10:27:00.005+02:00

Thinking independently hurts less when you share your thoughts.

Put them out there.

Parquet Patterns.

2010-10-26T15:25:00.000+02:00

Rachel Whiteread talking about drawing, collecting things, time.
An exhibition of her drawings is due at the Tate Modern in London and I’d love to see it.

Kitchen Outfits.

2010-10-23T15:43:00.001+02:00

Autumn Leaves/Procrastination.

2010-10-18T13:57:00.011+02:00

Autumn Leaves by housewitheyebrows.

Reasons To Panic

2010-10-13T20:30:00.010+02:00

... or why Malevich’s black square is starting to look more and more like a plausible and realistic depiction of the future.

Hectic red, toxic sludge is spilling all over the place and into running water about a two-hour drive from my hometown. And for once, this is not about vaporous and easily pushed-out-of-the-mind long-time effects. It’s killing people and shit, right now.
About 25% of the inhabitants of the city I live in would simply love to be ruled by a radical right-wing government. This is disillusioning and does inspire a certain sense of uneasiness when walking through the streets.
The only alternatives to exist in this world seem to be: asleep, arsehole, hypocrite, painful inbetween. I protest.
Society is doing its best to convince me of my uselessness, and it has almost succeeded. I always used to have a innate sort of trust in myself and the fact that everything will turn out okay; but I’m realising that this is very likely not at all up to me, and all my potential and imagination will be of no consequence as long as reality does not comply.
Deadlines, I hate you. Bureaucracy, I hate you even more. Being Ignored, you too!

Can I not simply ...
... well.
What?

Tennis.

2010-10-05T22:25:00.003+02:00

Swimming around in this song.

Interrail, #3: Siena

2010-10-05T20:29:00.006+02:00

It’s the 7th of July, and we leave Florence in the early morning for a day trip to Siena. This is the Santa Maria Novella Station in Florence, which is very aesthetic, but also (in its origins) somewhat fascist.

After a sweat-inducing ascent from Siena station to the inner city, we are greeted at the gates by the Capitoline She-Wolf, who is something of a recurring theme in Siena, because according to the legend, the town was founded by the fugitive sons of Remus after the latter had been killed by his brother.

Siena is full of stairs and steep slopes. We’re nearing the cathedral, as the striped marble intarsia all around give away ...

There it is! The best gothic church facade in Italy after Orvieto. Now don’t get distracted by the gentleman in the foreground.

Inner sanctum.

As you can see, it is all about the stripes.

Weary wandering feet.

Sacred bums.

Dead babies, courtesy of Bethlehem.

I have such fond memories of learning by heart the stylistic characteristics of these stone pulpits created by several generations of Pisanos, it was kind of exciting to see one in real life. I can’t tell whether Max is being pious again in this picture, or just tired.

Squee! It’s the bowlshaped Piazza del Campo and the Palazzo Pubblico (which is one of the buildings I’ll be comparing to this tower for a seminar this semester).

These are infuriatingly meaningless tourist pictures and I apologise.
Next stop: Cinque Terre!

About not giving things to others.

2010-09-26T07:52:00.001+02:00

Why have I never seen this before?

Lewis Takes Off His Shirt from Owen Pallett on Vimeo.

Fuck yeah, soaps as building blocks, fuck yeah, topless Pwen!
Also, the music, but you all know this anyway.

Interrail, #2: Florence

2010-09-18T20:40:00.007+02:00

The second stop of our Interrail tour was Florence, a town where it’s very hard not to feel like a tourist, when you are a tourist. Luckily we had local support (Hi Alex!) and were shown some less obvious spots (like the wonderful Edison bookshop and the inside of a Florentinian home). On the other side of the spectrum ... the Uffizi, the Cathedral, everything else. Some of the places were so busy that I actually felt too uncomfortable to take pictures, which is why some defining aspects are missing from the photo documentary. I feel rather sad, for example, that I did not take pictures of the ridiculously enormous number of almost identical leatherware stalls at the market.
We stayed in Florence for three nights but had barely two days, because of the day trip to Siena (photos coming up next!). It was not at all enough time. We plan on going back, but avoiding the peak season.

The Menu Turistico: Duomo, Campanile, Battistero

That’s how the day started - checking out of Venice in the early morn.

Pigeon chilling on top of a rape in the Loggia dei Lanzi.

Imitating Paintings while waiting for our time slot at the Uffizi.

This was taken at the Edison bookshop (+café). I loved it there!

Night falls slowly. Too many pictures are being taken of me. Accidentally I really like this one.

Ha!

Some old bridge ...

Weird markings on the wall.

Imitating statues. Badly.

Catching some atmosphere ... San Frediano by night.

The To-Do list is endless! Danger: Stendhal syndrome

Inside the Cathedral.

Come prepared or you will be humiliated: With their zero tolerance attitude towards exposed skin, Italian churches show no mercy on the indecent!

Cooking in the beautiful, tiny flat that was Alex temporary home while we were visiting. Good times!

And one more thing, because it fits: READ THIS BOOK. DO IT!

The past has never been as beautiful as today.

2010-09-15T20:53:00.002+02:00

I found out about Roger Mayne because the above picture of a ‘Girl Jiving’ taken in Southam Street in 1957 is the cover to my paperback copy of Ali Smith’s Girl Meets Boy (A fabulous book by an absurdly underrated writer that I can only recommend everybody to read. In fact you should read all her books!). After I fell in love with that cover photograph, I looked Mayne up and it turns out that he is someone I should have known all along. His pictures of urban England in the 50s and 60s (interspersed with the occasional country idyll, the odd portrait) are beautiful. I particularly like the ‘snapshots’ that remind a bit of film stills.

Here is a selection, all taken from his website.

Interrail, #1: Venice

2010-08-30T20:39:00.007+02:00

1. Venice clichee number 1: Canals and gondolieri.

2. Another typical looking picture of Venice that works well for introductory purposes.

3. The morning of July 4th. First hazy attempts at orientation after getting off the night train.

5. Our residence: “Ca’ Dario”. It had air condition.

6. Venice clichée number 2: Small canal, bridge over canal, preciously decorated gondola in foreground. I think this was taken was near Santa Maria Gloriosa dei Frari.

7. Public display of religion: In the face of outdoor icons of the Madonna, Max is turning increasingly pious.

8. Epic once-in-a-century storm, and we are ‘stranded’ at the Lido. Question of the moment: “Is a Vaporetto a Faraday Cage?" (I still don’t know.)

9. Day 2: Piazza San Marco. Isn’t the duomo pretty?

10. Star-struck by the tetrarchs.

11. Venice clichée number 3: Narrow walls lining a narrow canal. Laundry lines and boats.

12. In order to demonstrate our lack of interest in glassblowing, we visit Burano, not Murano. There are pretty, colourfully painted little houses there, and lots of people selling lace to tourists.

13. Oh yes, and this is us. We’re not that photogenic, but ...

14. Dusk in Venice.

I would like ...

2010-08-19T14:55:00.005+02:00

All the colours ...

Assortedness.

2010-08-12T22:29:00.013+02:00

As none of the avid observers of this blog will have failed to notice, I’m still putting off the formidable task of uploading, posting and commenting upon the enormous load of travel photos safely stored away on my hard drive.
Therefore, and meanwhile, a succinct representation in visual form of what I am chiefly occupied with at the moment.
Enjoy.

This is Max’s kitchen in a breakfast context.

This is the strange new doctor and his bitches.

This is couscous stuffed peppers with three kinds of cheese, aka devil’s cock and balls.

This is a page of the book on Herakles I was reading yesterday.

This is my stack.

Sign of Life.

2010-08-08T21:44:00.004+02:00

I have been back in my native country for exactly a week, today, and thought it was time for at least a minor sign of life. Therefore the above proof of my uncanny ability to take anything literal - a picture of the quirkiest road sign in France, I assume, and one of what I believe to be over a thousand photographs taken on our Interrail trip through Europe. (Phaw.)
Hello again!
I have not grown a moustache over the last month, even though I never shaved.

Friggin Europe!

2010-07-03T13:59:00.006+02:00

It's interrail time. Italy, France, England, Belgium, Netherlands, Denmark, Sweden, Germany, Poland here I come!

See you all in 30 days.

xxx

Filibuster*

2010-06-16T11:28:00.006+02:00

Inbetween permanent boyfriend returns, temperature fluctuations of roughly 20°C, writer’s block, social life and minor operations of the left hand, a girl hardly finds time and mind to update her blog. As is typical when a lot of time has elapsed since the last post, you can either tell everything in great detail (which none of the parties involved is keen on, I’m sure), or you can be very succinct. So I’ll be succinct and leave it to your imagination to fill the plotholes. A few photos might be helpful.

Happy Happy! Looking doppelgangerish and not too sophisticated. Also: Max has decided to try out a Robinson Crusoe sort of beard, for fun, and. It’s grown on him. Haha.

Breakfast at Lisa’s country seat. Lots of om nom inbetween horrid fits of hayfever! I’m in love with the summertime!

Last week, when the heatwave hit Austria, swallows and all, you could either not eat, or eat yoghurt and fruit. We chose the latter and we chose well. Grapefruit, nectarines, and strawberry. Colour, smell and taste. It’s like Flanders in the 1650ties.

*Filibuster is the word with the greatest etymology. It went through four or five languages before arriving in English.

Charlotte.

2010-05-26T15:40:00.003+02:00

I’m quite charmed by Charlotte Gainsbourg’s new single and video.

Pro to the cra to the stee to the nizzle.

2010-05-22T22:31:00.005+02:00

“I'm not entirely sure that I am telling this story the right way round. I have said that it is like a circle, approachable from any point. It is also, like a circle, unapproachable from any point.” Stephen Fry, Making History.

This sums up my thesis woe admirably. It’s all there, but it’s slick and unscalable. When I’m done pushing forlorn characters around on an empty page I go and bake, re-arrange files on my computer, download dozens of albums, read unrelated books and psych myself into a state. Hello, procrastination, it’s been a while!
Something will have to be done.

Mehrweg

2010-05-21T18:05:00.003+02:00

In love with EVOL.

Query.

2010-05-20T15:47:00.002+02:00

Honestly,
why does it feel as if
my heart is being crushed
in a bench vice?

Buildings.

2010-05-17T19:06:00.002+02:00

But time is not given
and time is not taken
it just sifts through itself.

I find architecture, as a trope, extremely romantic.

When I find myself in times of trouble ...

2010-05-17T09:06:00.001+02:00

2010-05-16T19:43:00.004+02:00

When usually it's nothing
Surely you're happy
It should be this way?

I apologise for being a miserable fart on my birthday.
But if it suits so well ...

Everybody wants to be a cat.

2010-05-10T20:14:00.004+02:00

Instead I run around the garden in unflattering flowery dresses, looking for where the time went.

I kinda want to live in a Lucksmiths song, these days.

New shoes.

2010-05-08T16:40:00.002+02:00

I am now obviously a better person.

A certain amount of vapid dancing.

2010-05-05T10:15:00.009+02:00

Firstly: http://www.vividotstore.com/
Vividot was brought to my attention by calivintage, and I’m quite in love with the lovely trinkets on offer there. Aren’t these ravishing? I am consumed by want.

Secondly: I may have found an epigraph for my diploma thesis. I’ve become rather obsessed with finding a perfect one, but it will be hard to encompass the entirety of my topic in one little quote. I am, however, at the moment quite fond a phrase from Margaret Atwood’s Penelopiad, which is one of the books I'm writing about, that seems to sum up the gist of post-modern retellings of great canonized stories and their appeal pretty well, without being too much of a truism:

“There is indeed something delightful about being able to combine obedience and disobedience in the same act.”

I’m not sure though. I must think about it. And I must get back to work. There is a certain amount of vapid dancing going on.

Pink, green or sky blue?

2010-05-01T16:04:00.008+02:00

Summer has hit Vienna and it is decked out in all the shallow prettiness it can muster. It’s time to wear summer dresses and take a camera for a walk to catch the city, time to eat ice cream on campus right before storming back into the library to find more books for the diploma thesis, or attend lectures about modern architecture. It’s time to get into life threatening situations involving bikes, tram rails and morning traffic and colour one’s knees the same colour as the sky - a shining blue.
Help yourself to some pictorial impressions:

I’m rather glad I don’t live in a city designed by Le Corbusier, for something tells me that there would be no room there for the mind-boggling quaintness of that shop near my flat that specialises - exclusively - in selling pigs in all forms imaginable. And I know my life would be much impoverished, if that shop weren’t there.

Bügelbrett sein. Nicht immer nett sein.

2010-04-21T21:19:00.004+02:00

Today way Max’s final last day in Vienna. He’s kind of had three due to his repeatedly post-poned departure because of the Eyafjallajöküll-themed travel troubles that have shaken Europe in the course of last week. The situation made for a couple of precious extra days together, but also a quite agonizingly stretched out good-bye.

We spent the day making and eating Hendlpörkölt, and somewhere inbetween went to the Thomas Bernhard exhibition at the Theatermuseum.

This is us, there. We live here but we’re sightseers.

Now he’s gone to catch his train (to Frankfurt, then Paris, then Poitiers), I'm fighting the numb emptiness with music, while browsing through the photos taken during the last 3 weeks.
40 more days. Then good will be allowed to be called normal.
I wonder what that’s like, like.

Shrimp and Leek Pasta

2010-03-30T23:00:00.005+02:00

Last weeks Monday lunch, I think. It was utterly delicious, and is really easy to make.
Just fry some finely cut leek in olive oil, add garlic, parsley, oregano, basil leaves, and what ever other herbs you desire, and then put in the shrimps together with pasta of your choice (I used rests of fusilli and penne as you can see). Makes a perfect, light spring lunch. Enjoy!

Now I don’t want this blog to become exclusively focussed on cooking and baking, but Easter (with its family reunions, and more free time at hand due to the holiday etc.) is another fantastic opportunity to try new recipes and record the efforts, so there might just be a few other food-related posts in the waiting line. I'll think of other things too, though.

Good times are coming up.

How Meta-

2010-03-28T12:20:00.003+02:00

Probably my favourite frame from Peter Greenaway’s The Pillow Book.