Beautiful Copenhagen
I walk and walk, getting to know this beautiful city more and more.
I still wake up some days, not able to see the point in going nowhere, but when I, like today, get myself out there, I love it. I search the faces of people walking the streets. I watch what people wear and make up little stories in my head, as to where they are going, who they're meeting, and what their lives are like. I see evening dresses worn as daywear, big ugly boots and impossibly high heels, tartan, lace, torn nylons, bikerjackets, homemade knit scarves and finally sunglasses. I wonder at the way people walk, run, linger and stop to greet friends, eyes lighting up.
I look into eyes of strangers passing, trying to fathom whether they're happy or sad. Mindful ? Awake ? Observant ? I roam the streets, seeking out the sunniest spots, feeling the wind play with my hair, dress and with *my* homemade knit scarf.
Wander around Nyhavn, smell the salt in the air and feel the warmth of the sun on my face and colour the inside of my eyelids bright orange. Admire the first outdoorsy types, wrapped up in jackets and blankets but bravely eating outside in the restaurants under the colured facades of the beautiful houses. Eating, talking, reading papers or holding hands. Waiters wrapped up warmly, balancing beer and bowls of peanuts on trays, taking orders in different languages.
And I totally, blissfully forget myselv for a few hours. Just wandering, wondering, and getting to know this enchanted place. A few tourists ask me for directions, and I answer in English and Italian: "I don't know, I'm new around here."
Happily.
Seems I look like I might be home here, I could get used to it.
I think I will.
I still wake up some days, not able to see the point in going nowhere, but when I, like today, get myself out there, I love it. I search the faces of people walking the streets. I watch what people wear and make up little stories in my head, as to where they are going, who they're meeting, and what their lives are like. I see evening dresses worn as daywear, big ugly boots and impossibly high heels, tartan, lace, torn nylons, bikerjackets, homemade knit scarves and finally sunglasses. I wonder at the way people walk, run, linger and stop to greet friends, eyes lighting up.
I look into eyes of strangers passing, trying to fathom whether they're happy or sad. Mindful ? Awake ? Observant ? I roam the streets, seeking out the sunniest spots, feeling the wind play with my hair, dress and with *my* homemade knit scarf.
Wander around Nyhavn, smell the salt in the air and feel the warmth of the sun on my face and colour the inside of my eyelids bright orange. Admire the first outdoorsy types, wrapped up in jackets and blankets but bravely eating outside in the restaurants under the colured facades of the beautiful houses. Eating, talking, reading papers or holding hands. Waiters wrapped up warmly, balancing beer and bowls of peanuts on trays, taking orders in different languages.
And I totally, blissfully forget myselv for a few hours. Just wandering, wondering, and getting to know this enchanted place. A few tourists ask me for directions, and I answer in English and Italian: "I don't know, I'm new around here."
Happily.
Seems I look like I might be home here, I could get used to it.
I think I will.
Comments
loved the: " ...i'm new around here"
welcome home... finally!
I have always loved to walk, and I think one of the reasons I do, is that I grew up in a city that is perfect for it.
well thank you dear, evah the gentleman aren't you ? Truth be told, it's easy-peasy to write lovely posts about lovely things. And I really start enjoying this beautiful beautiful city. Do you know I'm going to see Autechre on the 2nd of April here, I thought of you. Biggie for me to go out on my own, but I am getting used to it, and I love the idea =). You should really come with 'Zalma, i'll make sure to get to know the city so I can show it all to you.
@leo:
Funny thing, I always loved walking, I grew up in the countryside and took loooooong walks everywhere. Same thing in Italy. I love feeling a bit like a tourist and I hope to keep that outsider-eye on everything for a looooong time to come. And how I love feeling spring coming. Finally. It has been a loooooooong winter in so many ways, it is sheer pleasure just to feel the wind on my skin and in my hair again. I wouldn't have lived this so intensely in Italy and I'm grateful I can. Finally =).
how about THE PRODIGY in Rimini next friday?
although i'm afraid they won't have the same energy as 15 years ago...
who knows 40 something bit bellish, baldish...
i always thought that a musician can grow old nicely
only in Country, Jazz, Classic music
huhu
backstage in Sweden when I was 18 - when I danced with that Danish dancegroup. They're really far gone, but hell, the music!
Growing old nicely - only in jazz for sure, - look at the face of Paolo Conte (http://pian0.files.wordpress.com/2009/09/best_of_paolo_conte.jpg), it's incredible, he looks like an old boot, it it so beautiful.