Love

“Being in love is a complicated matter, although anyone who is prepared to pretend that love is a simple, straightforward business is always in a strong position for making conquests. In general, things are apt to turn out unsatisfactorily for at least one of the parties concerned; and in due course only its most determined devotees remain unwilling to admit that an intimate and affectionate relationship is not necessarily a simple one: while such persistent enthusiasts have usually brought their own meaning of the word something far different from what is conveys to most people in early life. At that period love’s manifestations are less easily explicable than they become later: often they do not bear that complexion of being a kind of game, or contest, which, at a later stage, they may assume.”

- Anthony Powell: A Dance to the Music of Time: Spring

Wise words from the 1950’s, when writers were so much more eloquent than they seem to be nowadays. I have never read a lot of true literature, somehow it never really appealed to me, although I loved talking about it with my grandmother. But as I started on a couple of typical bestseller list books lately, but was never able to finish one, I thought it might be time to dive into some good books. After all, the books I enjoyed most lately were Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita, and Jonathan Franzen’s Freedom; both not your average beach read. And I must say, I love Powell’s masterpiece. It is one of those books you can fully lose yourself in, enjoying the atmosphere he so vividly creates upon the pages; getting to know the many and complex characters, taking in the carefully chosen words and the beautifully constructed sentences. If you are looking for a good book to get you through those long autumn nights, I can only recommend this!

Good books

I don’t think there is a better time to start the rediscovery of certain passions than autumn. When the streets grow empty and the coldness and rain take hold of the city, there is nothing nicer than to curl up under a blanket with a pot of tea and a good book. I’ve bought many nice books lately, and read only few. Sometimes, the time is just not right for a certain book. Sometimes, I feel like reading a silly chicklit. Sometimes, like now, I feel like reading deep & meaningful literature. Luckily, when I saw my grandmother at the beginning of this week, she gave me some to take home to Berlin. We were talking about Proust, and although I don’t think she has actually read his work, she has her own – English – Marcel Proust: Anthony Powell. He wrote a series of books, supposedly like Proust’s “In search of lost time”.  “A dance to the music of time”, 12 novels, 4 volumes. I started this Wednesday and I’m already way through the first novel, and I love it. It’s written in the most beautiful old-fashioned English, and this first novel is about a boy’s boarding school, one of my favourite literary topics. And for when I’m done, DHL just delivered “The way by Swann’s”, the first volume of “In search of lost time”. In a perfect Penguin edition, by the way. So, if I’m not around, you know where to find me… Up on the couch with the perfect food for some much needed R&R.

As a start

"As I was thinking about seeing you this evening, I realised I should tell you that now that you are working full time, you should be careful not to forget what you actually love to do." It was something like this that The Best Neighbour* said to me this week when we finally saw eachother again at our favourite place in Amsterdam. And it was a painful realization that for both of us, it was a bit too late already. He has been working for a bit longer than I have, but we're both in the same situation. After a great student time in Amsterdam, with little classes, lots of freedom and enourmous amounts of intellectual and creative input, we started working full time. For me, it feels like (not even slowly, but definitely painfully) going partially brain dead. And first I loved it so much; I put in long hours and was extremely enthusiastic. I worked hard and it paid off; they loved me as much as I loved the job, and I soon got promoted. A few months along the road, I've come to realise that although I still love working for this specific company, I also lost myself somewhere in those long office hours and after work drinks. It is fun; everyone is young & enthusiastic and when we finally get out of the office, we go drinking & dancing. Get some food along the way and party the weekend (and sometimes the week) away. It is fun. But somewhere in the last two weeks I realized I wasn't enjoying it as much anymore. Because inbetween the job that doesn't really challenge me and the always fun, but never really deep, conversations over beers with colleagues, I forgot some important parts of myself. My love for writing, cooking and photography. And my love for travelling, foreign cultures and different languages. 

But hey, I only needed to travel 600 km for it, and have a good talk with The Best Neighbour and MM**, to get me all excited and bursting with ideas again. So as I am now preparing to go back to Berlin, I've quickly started up a blog again. Here I'll share with whoever wants to read it how I will rediscover the things I love. Because that way, I'll also get some of the writing done along the way!

* In Amsterdam, we lived in the same student complex for a while. We still miss eachother. Watching TopGear has never felt the same. 
** MM is the abbreviation for my mother. The two letters actually stand for something else, but as I am not telling you what they stand for anyway, you might as well think they are short for My Mother.