This summer.
No other I remember has ever been as vibrant and brisk with life. And there is hardly any better place to experience a summer than the glorious city of Berlin. There's the balmy evening air over the Landwehrkanal, bike rides through alleys and parks. There are breakfasts among neighbors under chestnut trees and talks between strangers on trains through the country. There are sleepless work nights and relaxed bar evenings, won and wasted time.
You'll take naps in the park between long work shifts and after journeys, sing lullabies to friends who are in pain and fall asleep with their hand clung to yours, you'll rediscover and appreciate old and find new ones and for the first time feel truly embedded and held by that increasingly dense net of people around you. You have nothing left to hide and everything revealed will be in good hands. And you start writing songs not for yourself but others, as you learn that they can be not only diaries but medicine, if applied with care to the right ears in good moments.
There is a new magic to friendships, to music, to life. There's a sense of new beginnings, of truly being at home. And if there weren't all those little proves of your existence prior to this date you'd swear you just had been invented. This very summer. In Berlin.
Berlin, summer 2012
Hugs go to Matt and Arne who were my biggest muses in those months. To Karla who's one of the greatest gifts of all time. And thanks to the entire Berlin family.
No other I remember has ever been as vibrant and brisk with life. And there is hardly any better place to experience a summer than the glorious city of Berlin. There's the balmy evening air over the Landwehrkanal, bike rides through alleys and parks. There are breakfasts among neighbors under chestnut trees and talks between strangers on trains through the country. There are sleepless work nights and relaxed bar evenings, won and wasted time.
You'll take naps in the park between long work shifts and after journeys, sing lullabies to friends who are in pain and fall asleep with their hand clung to yours, you'll rediscover and appreciate old and find new ones and for the first time feel truly embedded and held by that increasingly dense net of people around you. You have nothing left to hide and everything revealed will be in good hands. And you start writing songs not for yourself but others, as you learn that they can be not only diaries but medicine, if applied with care to the right ears in good moments.
There is a new magic to friendships, to music, to life. There's a sense of new beginnings, of truly being at home. And if there weren't all those little proves of your existence prior to this date you'd swear you just had been invented. This very summer. In Berlin.
Berlin, summer 2012
Hugs go to Matt and Arne who were my biggest muses in those months. To Karla who's one of the greatest gifts of all time. And thanks to the entire Berlin family.
download is free, but donations help pay my rent. if you give 5 euros, i will send you an actual postcard from some place I am visiting this month (there are a few..). if you give ten, that postcard will be handdrawn.
Coming up: the next postcard will come to you from a lost home in Cologne. if you want to make sure to stay up to date you can sign up to my newsletter.. you'll find the subscription form as well as more info about this and other projects on the actual website
these songs were written, mixed and arranged by Julia Kotowski aka. entertainment for the braindead in summer 2012 in Berlin, then to be released as the fifth in a series of acoustic Postcards in February 2013. Published under Creative Commons License CC BY-NC-SA.