Vienna

Coming to Vienna was easy, with 2 friendly Hungarians taking me directly from Belgium. Being here is a different matter. Rather then being able to appreciate everything here for what they are, I keep framing it in terms of what I know and am comfortable with. Maybe it’s because I’m still speaking German. Maybe the city looks too much like Berlin in the dark and drizzle.  Perhaps I just really want to be home, which is tricky because the home I would feel the most comfortable in is about 10 months in the past. My new years resolution is to complain less.

I also met up with some old friends, and I’m staying long enough to learn more about them and myself. I’m always amazed at my eagerness to relate other people’s experiences and problems with my own. This can obviously be a dangerous thing, as it’s very easy to feel a deep understanding after a couple of minutes, or right after a couple of words that seem awfully familiar are spoken. On the other hand, it’s of course impossible to know the whole context. We all have our own story, in the end.

My life the last couple of weeks seems to be mainly one if reflection and nostalgia, and I hope I can replace that soon with the feeling of wide eyed amazement of a random found experience.

I tried to caramelize onions today, and I failed miserably. It’s a delicate balance between letting it bake for a couple of minutes, and making sure it doesn’t burn. Somewhere between white and black is perfect.

Egon Schiele is amazingly great. I spend 30 minutes in front of this “Mother with 2 Children”. Colours are better at the Leopoldmuseum, of course.