TRAVEL DIARY

A weblog regularly updated by Jodi Rose.

Sunday, April 27, 2008

10:12 AM
Posted by jodi rose

I'm leaving Berlin in ten days, and it's breaking my heart.
The bells ringing along Kastanienallee in surround sound every Sunday, I'll miss walking through the park to their chiming polyphony. The late night rides through cool dark streets, quiet after the days bustle. The sheer joy of sunshine, after the long bleak winter. Unexpected glimpses of Alex's disco ball tv tower, popping up at all angles. I'll even miss the elitist end of the uber-hip art scene, in a kind of masochistic way, with their bad 80's retro and questions like 'do you have a golden wristband'... ummm no. I come over all groucho marx in moments like that, so not one of the beautiful people. It makes me laugh, and remember that this is a spectacularly hyped-up moment in a cultural industry that is all about hype, appearance and having the right attitude. Mine is particularly bad this morning. It will be kind of a relief to be outside it all and have a fresh perspective. You know I'm addicted to disorientation, being in a new place always does have a kind of thrill, no matter how I resist leaving.

Mostly though, I'll miss the friends who make it all seem like home. Some will stay in touch, others let me drift off their radar until we're back in the same city, or at least hemisphere. Of course I'll make new ones, I'm nothing if not friendly ;) It's just that, I have really let myself become attached to this emotional landscape, and the slowly unfolding patterns and currents that keep me afloat. It's going to be a beautiful summer, the days are already longer, and anything seems possible. Ah well, Singapore will be a whole new adventure.

Last night was strange but I did get to hang out with the fabulous Amy, and connect with her fellow 'emerged' project curator, artists and various partners. Almost had the dance I was promised weeks ago by our mutual friend, but we seem to be somehow out of step. Still, it's always good to meet people who are overflowing with warmth, energy and soul, and I'm pretty sure this won't be our last chance to dance. I'll be back in the fall, and sometimes the music of life takes it's own sweet time to find a rhythm you can dance to.

Anyway, that's all very sombre for a sunday morning. On a more pragmatic note, the last of my technology has died, yes my camera is a flickering black screen, which makes me officially a post-media artist. Hence the pirate media, only using whatever technology I can beg, borrow and scavenge from other people. This could be a moment to shift my practice, back into the world, and take a fresh look at the tools, methods and philosophy that have become customary. The bridge punk is about trying to deconstruct some of the expectation that builds up around a certain level of profile or experience. Didn't anyone tell you I never learnt how to play, and I'm making it all up as I go along? It's good to have a plan, but only so you can abandon it. Art, like life, is best improvised.