The privilege, the privilege.....

I find myself up a certain European river. It's a torrent, that you can only just keep pace with on foot. I feel some empathy to old Kurtz in the Congo, being far from home and all, but in many ways this place is like a home coming. I am living here for the next couple of months, for a start. At the moment my very lovely apartment studio looks straight out onto the Rhine:

That's the view from my bedroom window that I'm currently blogging next to the radiator beneath..... which is ok by me. (Well, if you take enough mescaline that would probably be the view from my window). So, home in that sense, and home too, in that (I was trying to explain this to the missus in a mail last night):

"all that stuff I moored my young understanding of culture, progress, civilization and achievement to, well it's here. I don't mean it came from here, I mean it's here, people have put it here. They are living in it riding on it, guarding it, lighting it beautifully. It's like I've been holding my breath, or looking through a gauze for 35 years.

just in the last 2 hours I saw all these and beyond:

Yesterday in the Beyeler Foundation I stood 200mm away from this:

Last night I went out on my own ( popped past a famous anarchist bar called Hirscheneck) and then filtered into a million drunk swiss teenagers in luminous anonimity. Drank some beers quietly to my self  with a big smirk on my face and then the new year's fireworks went off above my head. It was a cadenza and a spectalce.

What a way to start a year...... a happy new one to you all.

 

The privilege, the privilege......

love 

Kurtz