30.7.10

good bye anker koz



dearest anker palota, 

you've been fine to me, accommodating to me since i moved to budapest. your wooden floors and loft bed, your creepy attic and peeling walls. the basement that's locked shut, and no one knows why. i've enjoyed it here, looking across the balcony at japanese, hungarian and english classes at the language school across the yard. your little table where i drank so many coffee and the little slice of sunshine that somehow makes it down to the first floor every afternoon.

thanks for your stinky drains, but im moving on. packing in cardboard and backpacks, old suitcases i stole from gypsies and getting unsettled. i haven't even moved yet and im already in withdrawal about not living in deak ter anymore. central central, im born to live central.

in any case, as of tomorrow i'll have a new address. im happy for that.

good bye, and treat the next tenant as good as you did me.
yours,

kathleen elisabeth

29.7.10

becske // hungarian hills






becske, hungary.
five days of meditation, total bliss and space [in photographs]

happiness


happiness. essential and simple, necessary, yet so hard to keep.
 all the time.


or is it?
if there is one thing in common with the whole human population living on this over-crowded earth of ours, it's the wish to be happy.
this is: cool

trying to keep the highest view all the time. this poster reminds me be pro-active when i just want to sulk (which isn't often, but you know those days when there just seems to be a rain cloud above your head only?).


[spend last week hanging out with 1500 buddhists, meditating a lot and camping in the hungarian hills // pictures are coming tomorrow]

23.7.10

look, mama! a racoon.


its almost time for the weekend. which means just one thing for me,


becske. a small hungarian village where a lot of friends happen to be waiting for a weekend of camping, bon fires, meditation and delicious food.


heads up on a new project with a long distance friend who once lived in spain. it includes 30 days, some sporadic drawings and text, a new virtual space and buddha's brain. more news is coming //
 
see you next week!

19.7.10

teal // photographs that capture this colour's essence

our.city.lights - principles of literary [img]

anja mulder - home and star mobile [img]

pacopus - italian grandma taking it easy [img]

apartment therapy - teal kitchen [img]

17.7.10

saturday successes.



did:

read letter [from jen] a second time, started to reply
successfully made ice cubes in an refrigerator egg holder [works perfectly]
the discovery of ice cups led me to made a cup of iced coffee
tried the best aubergine/mayo dip at bobek, washed down with local hungarian beer
decided that the future is a funny thing, that i much better like the present
started the pack. moving day in two weeks.

i like days that feel both productive yet relaxing. [saturdays]

16.7.10

weekend folly //

this is what i plan to do all weekend.

except not on a beach that looks so greek, but perhaps in the shade of a tree in city park or while sipping iced tea on my balcony. to be finished: islands in the stream - hemingway.
i will also pack, since d and i will move in a couple weeks from our beloved anker palota in the middle of the city to a buddhist centre in another part of town.

what do you have planned?

img: cnn

14.7.10

doily // the largest ive ever seen

what: mega doily rug
from: ladies and gentleman studio
cost: 600$

this is a full sized area rug that is made, or rather knotted by hand, by jean. she likes vintage doily patterns and runs the ladies and gentleman's studio.

this rug is incredible //
i wonder how much cotton rope it takes to make one of these?


13.7.10

swelter in this city // pfff


mercury can't rise any higher.
it's what i first thought, until i kept rising higher

hotter //
so tell how can i beat it?

cool off. passing water bottles to the bike lane,
[whirl wizz grasp gulp]
cycling commuters in collared-shirts with sweat stains //

cool off. cold frozen yoghurt on the balcony, shadowed view
this city sweats, even the concrete.

i hide indoors until the sun reclines, then ill escape for

creme glace. chill like a snail on an iron post.

9.7.10

making art is a full time job // one i dont have




a recent sketchbook page:
succulent cactus
spirograph
old photograph of moscow
hungarian doily

watercolours/pencil/ink/glue.

8.7.10

islands in the stream // hemingway

catching up on reading
lasted one week without starting another novel
the good weather just makes me want to eat words.

hemingway, the classic man is in cuba this time
catching fish and starting bar fights that end in
grape-fruit sized hands.

if i could share a bottle of wine with one man from history
it'd be him. what would i say:
why'd you do it?

if there's anything i don't like, its people that give up.

any case, almost every hemingway novel graces my bookshelf
now i would also like to move to bimini or cuba to paint.

you?

7.7.10

ode to the spirograph


i could rant all day about how i still love my travel spirograph.
i got it as a birthday present at least 13 years ago and still use it often for arting and creating.

[the best toys are ones that never go out of fashion]

did you/do you have one of these magnificent things?

this is: my ode to the spirograph.

5.7.10

much love mondays: letters from far away friends



i love thinking you've just had a very quite reasonably crap day only to come home and find an unexpected package in the mailbox from your bestest friend who lives thousands of miles away (budapest - quebec, ca is a long way away).

of course she gives you advice that was written a week ago but is more relevant than ever in the present moment. her words of wisdom?

[love is also, {at least} something that you do. but it's not just any verb. could it be the mother verb?]

i love mail, especially on mondays.
thanks jen, you have always had perfect timing.

the poster is from her as well: le salon du livre anarchiste de montreal 2010

tell anna what you love on mondays.


3.7.10

commuter // computer


yesterday i cycled to work for the first time. 

my office isn't far, just 6km but it was already warm at 8 in the morning. unfortunately the area i work is quite industrial with lots of blocks of offices and factories, the skyline is rectangular prisms housing computers, typing robots and flats.

the roads there are less than accommodating for cyclists and i was determined to find another route. i took smaller streets on my way home, avoiding the direct and main road that leads me to work and was pleasantly surprised by the little shops, small gardens and parks and no traffic that i found at 6 in the afternoon. i think i found a winning route for my new commute to work.

+ my freitag bag fits so nicely in the basket on the back of my bike

i will try to cycle a few days a week to work this summer, since the weather is fine and the exercise is always welcome since im sitting in front of a computer all day long. 

next time i will take my camera. it seems im discovering new faces of budapest all the time.

1.7.10

i like canadians // happy canada day


[a poem by earnest hemingway, 1923]

I like Canadians.
They are so unlike Americans.
They go home at night.
Their cigarettes don't smell bad.
Their hats fit.
They really believe that they won the war.
They don't believe in Literature.
They think Art has been exaggerated.
But they are wonderful on ice skates.
A few of them are very rich.
But when they are rich they buy more horses
Than motor cars.
Chicago calls Toronto a puritan town.
But both boxing and horse-racing are illegal
In Chicago.
Nobody works on Sunday.
Nobody.
That doesn't make me mad.
There is only one Woodbine.
But were you ever at Blue Bonnets?
If you kill somebody with a motor car in Ontario
You are liable to go to jail.
So it isn't done.
There have been over 500 people killed by motor cars
In Chicago
So far this year.
It is hard to get rich in Canada.
But it is easy to make money.
There are too many tea rooms.
But, then, there are no cabarets.
If you tip a waiter a quarter
He says "Thank you."
Instead of calling the bouncer.
They let women stand up in the street cars.
Even if they are good-looking.
They are all in a hurry to get home to supper
And their radio sets.
They are a fine people.
I like them.


[img: bigglesmith / flickr cc]