Orange Weekend
My orange accessory is ready, the camera battery is charged, and Amsterdam is beginning to look as though subtlety has been formally suspended. # Orange weekend. Not King’s Day yet,...
There is a manner in which certain things ask to be written, not so that they may be found, but because to exist in silence, for too long, eventually becomes insufficient. It is not urgency. It is something closer to a necessity that makes no noise, waiting patiently until it discovers the proper form. This archive was born in such a way.
Not as a diary. Not as a blog. Not as something that is updated merely for the sake of appearing alive. It is a place where certain thoughts come to rest, those which do not dissolve, those which return, those which insist with the silent obstinacy of things that truly belong to you...
My orange accessory is ready, the camera battery is charged, and Amsterdam is beginning to look as though subtlety has been formally suspended. # Orange weekend. Not King’s Day yet,...
Amsterdam did not replace Italy. It simply became another place where my keys fit a door. # I keep thinking about yesterday’s post because writing something often makes it continue...
Most days I forget to be consciously Italian until coffee, pasta, football or my mother’s voice makes subtlety impossible. # Being Italian in Amsterdam is much less dramatic than I...
I stopped trying to decide which place made me who I am when I realised none of them had asked for exclusive rights. # I was speaking Italian to Mom...
Yesterday we made a King’s Day plan. Today we admitted it is mostly decorative. # Planning is a strong word. We have intentions. We intend to leave at a certain...
We have planned King’s Day with the precision of military logistics and the full knowledge that none of the plan will survive contact with Amsterdam. # Vrijmarkt planning happened today,...
The first orange decorations have appeared, and Amsterdam is beginning the annual process of abandoning chromatic restraint. # Orange is coming. You can see it in shop windows first, little...
The bridge repeats. The water repeats. The woman holding the camera does not. # I compared two photographs tonight, one from 2012 and one from this week, taken close enough...
I have photographed the same water for years and it has never once had the decency to look identical. # I went through Amsterdam photographs today and discovered, once again,...
I wore sensible shoes to a museum and spent half the day feeling betrayed by how correct the decision was. # Museum day, and I wore comfortable shoes. Please allow...
We cancelled our plans tonight and I felt the exact opposite of missing out. # We were supposed to go out tonight. Nothing major, just plans made earlier in the...
The first workday after a long weekend is mostly an exercise in remembering which day everybody has agreed it is. # Tuesday behaved like Monday all day and my brain...
Why?
Because every thought leaves a trace. If something moved you, disturbed you, softened you, or made you think, leave it here, quietly.