Summer, 2010

Wow, a lot has happened in the past few months. I went back to France and visited more prehistoric caves (in the Pyrennes this time). These were in general a bit younger than those in Dordogne. What was especially striking was how in these caves the artists had sought out rooms with the best acoustics (even when that meant a multi kilometer hike from the cave's entrance). These rooms transformed the weak voice of the archeologist giving the tour into a haunting cry. I can't imagine how a real singer would sound here.

I had trouble getting back to Vienna. Airport strikes in Paris. So I stayed with my friend Arnaud and his cousin in their charming little apartment not far from Place de la Republique. We made lots of dinners and to one of them came their aunt, who called me a dirty colonialist.

I found Vienna as I had left her, rather chilly, full of Italian ice-cream and Viennese. I saw the crown jewels and the imperial vault; I went to the clock museum with Richard and the opera house with Laura. My last night there I had drinks on the University campus with Michael, Mario, et al. Maybe it was exhaustion or anxiety but for no apparent reason tears started streaming down my face. My expression didn't change, just the tears. It might very well have gone unnoticed if I hadn't been directly engaging Mario in conversation (we were talking about his trip to the Alps, natürlich). So, he noticed, but wasn't sure because my expression hadn't changed. And I didn't want my expression to change because it's stupid to cry for no reason. He touched my shoulder, and I started really crying, so I got up quickly and said an embarrassed auf wiedersehen to those present and walked quickly back towards Michael's house, sobbing the entire way.

We stopped at a vernissage because the man in charge knew Michael and called out to us passing. Polish women, two sisters, had painted undefined female characters and superimposed them onto artificial backgrounds. The artists were there, laughing exclusively and drinking wine at a corner table, looking as disconnected as their subjects. Stress or anxiety must work in Memory's favor. After all those wunderschoen paintings and sculptures I saw during my time in Vienna, what I remember most vividly today are those rather unexceptional paintings in that tiny cafe off of Alserstraße rendered striking by the swollen globes through which I saw them.

I left Europe and moved to Virginia. I got here about a week ago. I'm glad to be here. I am really grateful to have this chance to continue studying. I took a bunch of exams yesterday. They were hard, but I think I did alright. I haven't formed my opinions yet on the place. But I will soon and when I do, I will tell you all about it.