All posts filed under: Essays

Ønwards

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When I left London for Edinburgh a few years prior, everyone kept saying: “Look, you’re moving somewhere affordable, a place with charm, character and soul.” Of course, then I did not believe I was in for such a wonderful treat. In the last couple of months the reaction has been quite a similar one. An “Oh Berlin. I envy you” here, an “Berlin? Now, I’m jealous” there. Today, sitting in my new, rather empty apartment, between boxes piling up to the heavens, patiently waiting to be unpacked, it all feels a little strange to be here. A good kind of strange, I have to say. Pretty much six years ago to this day, I first set foot on an island that was foreign, yet took me in with open arms. A place brimming with life, a place I gladly called home shortly after, made the best friends, built relationships and with every passing day I wasn’t sure what to think about going back to the familiar home shores. Now after a heartfelt jump into the …

The Jamboree Bag

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Hello 2016. Hello New Year’s resolutions. What do I take on this time?, I asked myself when I toasted the old year goodbye. Well, I don’t know if I’m honest. Of course, there’s these things I always put on my mental list for the last odd years: Work out more. Keep friendships nice and healthy. Phone this old friend of mine. Start a short course at uni. Get more magazine coverage. Learn another language. Safe up some money and visit Japan with the girl. Learn to make the perfect flat white. Shoot more film. Go surfing in the Hebrides. Nothing too hard to achieve and all entirely within my reach. But let’s face it. Come February and half of the good intentions, plans and ideas go out the window somehow. And that shouldn’t be that of a big deal, really. As much as I love setting new goals and future achievements, life all too often has something else planned for us. There’s enough of the moments you pretty much can’t predict. It’s the things that come to you or …

The Show Must Go On

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Like so many, I was extremely moved by the emotional interview with the Eagles of Death Metal that surfaced yesterday. So here’s the short comment I wrote for TMRW over here.   While we’re all still shocked about what happened in Paris two weeks ago and with some emotional wounds only healing slowly, we don’t fail to be amazed by stories of human kindness and positivity in times of pain and tragedy once more. Think of the generous people opening their doors to strangers in need, cities showing solidarity by cladding their famous monuments with the French tricolore or the blindfolded Parisian Muslim man asking for people’s trust with a heartfelt embrace. Yeah, in times like these, it’s no wonder that we’re desperately looking for the good in others and assuring ourselves why it’s worth it to fight for a free society. Another one of these paradigms to not shy away from the terror and stand our ground is the heartbreaking VICE interview with the Eagles of Death Metal, the band that played the Bataclan club until …

The Good Deed of Listening

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Sometimes it’s worth taking the time to listen. Especially to those voices that are rarely noticed. Stories that want to be heard and harbour a surprise or two. And there’s so many of them roaming around our streets. A few days ago I found one of them. Motionless, almost dreamy he stares into the distance. The other side of the road. Shivering from the cold, he draws the blanket tight. I see him almost every single day on my way past the local shop. As a was on my way to grab a few essentials for a hearty dinner, I walked past like so many times before. The usual bad feeling hit instantly. Not today, I thought and turned on my heel.‘What can I get you, buddy?’ He gave me a sad smile, but a shine in his eyes. ‘Oh that’s lovely. How about a caramel latte with a splash of sugar?’ Slightly puzzled, I only gave him a nod. ‘Well, he knows what he wants’, I thought. Once I was back with my groceries, …

Hunting for Solitude

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I always wondered how people can be so burned-out they need a break. There’s always time to switch off, isn’t it? Well, sometimes you’re bombarded with things that make it difficult to say ‘No, it’s enough’. And society pretty much teaches us to always be on our toes, to immerse ourselves in tons of projects, to be always attainable on all channels, to stick out and make a name for ourselves at any price. Onwards and upwards. And yeah, the last couple of weeks and months have been a bit manic, with a workload soaring up bit by bit and freelance & volunteering commitments going literally ballistic. And there’s no end in sight, really. Not that I dread the time, I like to be busy and it’s been pretty amazing! But my batteries were kinda drained and I was running low on creative input lately. So I decided to take a break from work stuff and the busy city life as much as possible, pack my bags & head up North to the beautiful wilderness of Skye …

Age 33: The End of Music Discovery?

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This might sound strange, but are you tired of browsing new music yet? No? Well maybe you’re still young enough to keep the ball rolling. As this new study suggests, people around 33 kinda lose interest and stop listening to new music. And even though the survey’s based on a rather tight framework – only featuring US-Spotify users in 2014 – it’s still interesting to apply that assumption to your own habits. First off: I’m not 33. But I can’t really see why I shouldn’t go on trying to find new music to keep things fresh and interesting. Sometimes I’m so so fed up with my digital playlists and the small but mighty bunch of records, my ears are simply itching for new stuff to float in. And to be honest, with streaming services popping up here and there, it has never been easier to get your hands on yet undiscovered tunes, given the algorithms deliver it straight to the doormats of us lazy people out there. So what’s the reason for people to stop listening …

Being European

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With a natural thirst for the arts, reading the culture and history of Europe at universities both on the continent as well as in the UK, I’d say I had a good shot at both ‘worlds’. When I started studying in London, the melting pot of cultures and nationalities, my very first lecture – called ‘What is Europe?’ – started off with a bang. Our small group consisted of some English, Irish, Scottish and one non-native speaker from abroad. Me. Entering the room, before even taking off his jacket, our tutor fired out the first question: ‘So, who of you considers himself or herself as European?’ A chuckle here, a murmur there. But suddenly, it turned pretty quiet in our crammed study room. ‘A trivial question’, so I thought, yet everyone started to look around with questioning looks. I could feel the stares, eventually. It was me, who dared to lift his hand. The only one. After having lived in the capital for only a few weeks, that was probably the moment I realised some people …