The Collection Bayer

When you are in Berlin at the Potsdamer Platz, not everybody knows that you have to walk only a few steps to find the impressing museum, the Martin-Gropius-Bau. The building was erected in 1877 as an Arts and Crafts Museum. Since 1981, when the ruin had been restaurated, you can not only see exhibitions of photography and art, but also admire the building with its high atrium.  

Yesterday (they are open on Monday) I went to see the Collection Bayer (from the chemical and pharmaceutical international concern).  The paintings, normally hanging in the offices of their (important, I guess) employees are now "out of office", because the concern is celebrating its 150 years company anniversary. In 1909 Carl Duisberg asked Max Liebermann to paint a portrait of him, which was the foundation. At first the concern bought paintings to educate their employees - now they own over 2000 works of art.  
It is the first time that 240 of their works of art are presented to the public. And the names of the artists are exquisite: Ernst Ludwig Kirchner, Karl Schmidt-Rottluff, Max Pechstein, Emil Nolde,Max Beckmann, Lyonel Feininger, Georges Braques, Pablo Picasso, Joan Mirós, Gerhard Richter, Sam Francis, Andy Warhol - to name a few. 
The exhibition is divided into four parts: German Expressionism, École Paris, After-War-and Informal Art, and American modern art.  I liked a drawing of David Hockney, "Rapunzel" very much, and of course Emil Nolde's paintings. As  nobody is allowed to photograph, you have to put up with the poster, sorry.  

Solved: The Riddle of a Literary Garden Quote

Fancy an educated guess who wrote this in 1892? 


April 14. Spent the whole of the afternoon in the garden, having this morning picked up at a bookstall for fivepence a capital little book, in good condition, on Gardening. I procured and sowed some half-hardy annuals in what I fancy will be a warm, sunny border. I thought of a joke, and called out Carrie. Carrie came out rather testy, I thought. I said: 'I have just discovered I have a lodging-house.' She replied: 'How do you mean?' I said: 'Look at the boarders.' Carrie said: 'Is that all you wanted me for?' I said: 'Any other time you would have laughed at my little pleasantry.' Carrie said: 'Certainly - at any other time, but not when I'm busy in the house.' 
                                                                                        " 

The Practical and The Beautiful

We all know that hackneyed old Zen-phrase: "When the student is ready, the teacher will appear." 
Well - I changed that a bit: often when I need something I find it among the things that are already there. 
As in this case. 
Suddenly I decided that I need a standing desk. Had worked so much at my computer, sitting hours and hours at my desk. 
So I looked up catalogues, internet and whatsoever - and what I saw I didn't like. And I wasn't that sure either whether I would really use it - had never had one - and thought: I don't pay 400 Euro for a whim of mine (I know me by now) - and then it might be useless... 
And suddenly I "saw" it. In my mind. A flashback. 
When we moved into our flat in Berlin, somewhere a wooden fire screen stood in a corner - and as I only love things that are either beautiful or practical - most happily both - it went down into the cellar because I wasn't sure of either. 
But guess: it has the absolute right height for me! Couldn't be more perfect! And, as you see, there was a place for it. 
So you see this woman now, switching back and forth between sitting, standing, tickling the keys of my laptop. 
I'm still not sure about "beautiful", but "practical" it is. 

PS: A little appendix: "And after some days my back is better now - after schlepping that thing up", said husband. "In your post you might get the impression that that thing flew up but itself. You have omitted that part." Well - now you know the whole truth. Thank you, Hans!  

EXPRESS your Gratitude

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that you are happier when you feel grateful. 
I found out that I feel even happier when I express my gratitude. 
It is so easy to overlook the many incidents one can be grateful for - sometimes on a single day I feel that I get more 'presents' without a special occasion than I got as a child on a birthday! 
We all have a lot to do - so we might overlook the things we can be grateful for. 
- That's why I have a diary into which I write almost every day at least five things that made me happy and thankful - you will have read about doing that in many books on Happiness. Just try to do it!  
- And I invented for myself a sketch-book into which I draw one of those lucky reminders. It is not important whether I draw them artistical or not - it is the time I spend really looking at a thing. It is so easy to grab an item one got as a 'gift' - and then, like an overeater, swallow greedily the next. 
When I draw the lines of a cup of coffee, or a blossom of a magnolia, I look intensely, and thus value what is before me more than by just mumbling: "Oh, great, thank you - what next?" 
By the way: Only a few people know the Art of Saying Thank You. I remember those young people who did after advising - by e-mail, letter, telephone-call - better than those who intended to, but forgot. And though I work for all of them correctly, as I remember those others who said 'Thank you!" better I might sometimes find an extra for them weeks later. 
So: if your professor took the time to read your paper very carefully/ or your dentist gave you quickly an appointment/ or your haircutter did a special job - though they all get paid for it, it doesn't harm to acknowledge your gratitude by saying 'Thank you' (when you mean it). 

Let softness be my motto.

When I look back over the last two years, I get the impression of a constant battle. 
Nothing to do with our move to Berlin: that was my idea, my wish - (even a  prediction: as a teenager I wrote into my diary "Berlin is the town I want to grow old in.") It was the right move. 
No, I fight on another field. And though there are 'host of heaven' with me - I am part of the Baby Boomer Generation - it is a lonely fight. The inevitable fight: growing old. 
At first I did the obvious: I closed my eyes. 
"Not me!" I thought, seeing that I do very well in comparison. (Comparison is a vice in the books of the Wise!). And a lot of people, among them beautiful men, say gently: "But you don't look old!" Thank you. 
But: It's Lombard Street to a China Orange. A look on my birth certificate... 
What is worse than a number: to go through the world with closed eyes is really stressful. 
I never photoshopped or botoxed or had a nip and tug, never, and I never will. But I do quite a lot to keep my figure  health. And my stamina. My brain. My joie de vivre. And Verve. 
I will talk about that in posts following this. (Not Elvis, but half of the 'blog members' have left the building by now :-) 
But first I will do the most important thing: accept and admit it: Ageing. 
Of course I do it in the wayward Taoists way: by embracing the enemy. Trying to foresee the blows and thus avoid them as good as I can. 
All that in order to thrive, not just survive - balanced in the very midst of events. 
Let softness be my motto. 
  

Collecting Berlin's Underground

I might have told you: I am a collector - with my camera. I collect sun dials, balconies, shop window dummies, beautiful cars -- to name a few --- AND photos from impressing undergrounds. 
The first year in Berlin it was a bit difficult for husband: I always jumped up and down and cried: "Wait! Wait just a minute! I have to ..  click...click..." 
It is so utterly fascinating that they are so very, very different! As a true collector knows: one becomes boring offering too many snapshots -- so here only a few... 

Biedermeier Currant Bread

You need an iron constitution to get over so many festivities as in the last four months. So: Happy Easter! 
When I came back from a wonderful weekend in Munich (happy that each time the flights were only one hour late because of the snow), I had to enter the place where in ye olde days a woman had her place: the kitchen.  
Son & DiL had hinted politely but firm that they were longing for the annual "Biedermeier Korinthenbrot" - a speciality that it is so called because it is modest (not too much sugar, not too many currants - though I throw a few more into it :-) and aromatic (by vanilla sugar and  lemon peel, but - you guess it already: not too much). 
The bread as such does not look modest: it is enormous, shockingly voluptuous (no, I didn't mean volumnious, which it is too) : 

I always cut it in two parts - and half of it goes to Munich. 
But I have to plan like a Prussian: on Good Friday (almost) nobody is working. 
And the post nowadays is not as reliable as it - once upon a time - had been. So: if I take the risk and send the Easter-Bread on Thursday it might happen that it will not arrive on Saturday - and then - oops - they will get an After-Easter-Bread; because Sunday and Monday (almost) nobody is working. 
(Crumbly dry cake reminds me of of a typical story fabricated by my sweet grandma - the working(wo)man - : with the best intentions she sent my father a parcel with home-baked cake from Göttingen, Germany, in war-time, to Madagascar, his first POW-station before England. It took some time... :-).  
So I baked on Wednesday. Packed it. Paid extra postage to be sure that it will arrive in time. 
And - after a few difficulties too laborious to tell (here I cut the story, not only the bread) it arrived in good condition.   

Happy Easter!