Berlin runs through my veins

Berlin runs into my veins.
Berlin turned to be the beginning of the end of the beginning.
Lost the plane. Lost in the plane. Lost in translation of time. Time. Berlin: for the second time. For the first time ever: didn’t recognize the cycle.
The brief touch with Frankfurt airport leaded me to a completely magic stage. While the airplane was still oscillating around the floor, we were promptly received by every naked tree and nearby field. Each single part of nature got a new expression due to the crystal lights and the date between every colour humbly blended together in the most unique and pure blank. The physical experience started with a warm reception of snowflakes covering all my face and soul, drinking and getting intoxicated by my salty tears of commotion.
The call to Berlin. Berlin. At last.
The expansive and effusive arrival ever. Filipe (who else?!) electrified me with his hug, contaminating the air with circle movements, circle shadows that pulled my feet back to the ground.
Had no time. Had all the time. The concert starts now. Now. Now. With the bag at the back, went to one of the most brilliant concerts I’ve ever been to. It didn’t start nor stop at the stage. In a club “of superb aspect” intoxicated by people “of superb appearance” with the theatrical musical performance of Glass Candy, I officially signed up my arrival.

Berlin is the space to assimilate the time.

Even though the wall doesn’t get a physical presence anymore (despite few fragments), actually it persists into the logic and dynamic of the city, forcing the presence of 2 symmetrical sides, which strength is underlined by a new idea of centrality. The wall turns to be the promise. The wall turns to be the fact. Character that shows how to destroy time limits and physical, social, cultural barriers through the maximal effect of urban art. It’s the greater opponent to the warlike history, though carries and awakes heavy weight of respect and bitterness in the atmospheres crossing over the streets which share voices with the passer-by. The wall of nowadays symbolizes the maturity of Berlin, capable to criticize a past which doesn’t brought any kind of proud and it’s getting even colder and hostile over the years. Each corner, each place, each stage of that regenerated Berlin, reveal the new potential of a city that creates the most warm environments and surroundings “home feel like” spontaneously related to any and all kinds of art. Berlin invents a new concept of urban home, where I feel in the fireside and time stops asking. It seems like a potion. A recipe of magic where everything connects to everything, but the origin and the essence of each ingredient remains intact.
Living Berlin is living on the edge of the edge. Simultaneously carrying the putrid root of the coldest bloody war and searching for the greatest form of the individual as long as ash and dust. The proficient future is evocated permanently on the openness and auto-constructiveness process of the person as itself, being a subject that carries vertiginous holograms of a reality revival all along the space and the time. Berlin concentrates the union of minimal/maximal charges, represents the two sides of the same coin, a past and a present with a precise touch. The conscience of that point of turn, that gelid moment that breaks the ice, is so specific…. How could such a vague subject as time get a face and an identity, being incorporated in a fragile passage of history, assuming the end and the beginning of million lives. The lives of others. Ours?!
Its past was a prisoner of the heavy time. It still is and even more than yesterday. Today is a no-time, is above time, dictates a flexible reality where each single individual recreates its own time and space. And the thing that most fascinates me is wondering if at any moment, time will blow again in Berlin. It’s the biggest lesson. The city took advantage of its knowledge and participation on the darkest side of the human mind and race, in order to appeal its projection into the strongest and consistent sensibility of super humans. Berlin calling images of cartoons or rich mosaics filled up with collages or candles or “gluweins“….
Metro also accomplishes and assumes the wall theme. It cuts streets, the museum island and generically all the city reaches a symmetry, even if we’re just talking about near plans. Nevertheless the gain of this democratic space is the transcend of an imposition that could have had appeared with a trustful limitation to the classic ideal and the overtake of a confront between each side of the line. It introduces fluidity and authentic movements that unify the Berlin of bicycles.
I’m developing a theory that the metro is one of the most important pieces to show and be itself the image of a city. This machine explores to the limit the sequence of the window. Metro shows million uniform windows in a single succession, opened and turned to the tumult of the streets. Colours are forced to mix together as long as the metro comes to the outside and howls and windows seem like a mass, drawing each ground as a line. The place I like the most is when the station gets near. That few seconds before or after the stop let understand a dialogue between the lines of the metro and the sceneries around which makes all the difference. Sound is made by each metallic note which gets more independence from the others as well as the windows of the houses start to reveal their unique personality. Looking up to those formally similar and apparently repetitive points in the façade turned to the eye of the metro, we get to know, when listening to metallic notes, the phenomenon of each window that strips from blinds and shouts its own charisma.