Author: Emilia
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Weinmeisterstraße
It’s a chilly-grey Saturday morning in Berlin. Still early—just before 10—and I’m watching the shops open, and the carnation-sellers in their approximate uniforms of white shirts and black pants arrange and rearrange their cute little cart and buckets of flowers, clumsily deciding on the best spot to promote whatever unneeded brand they are here to… Read more
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Flight Risk
Term 2 ended on April 4 with a week of work-in-progress performances of 20 minutes each, followed by a 10 minute lecture about the work and our process, followed by a term paper explaining our process and our work in more depth. I thought some of you might enjoy seeing the video of my performance,… Read more
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Like Roots Out of Soil
This morning, like most mornings the last few months, I wake up and give thanks that I have awoken, again, in this place, that this is my life. That this is my life. That this is my life. That this is my life. That for better and for worse, as far as I know, I… Read more
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Half a Year Here
I arrived in Berlin six months ago today. With the 29 minutes I have left of this day, I thought I’d reflect quickly and briefly on this milestone. (I am all too aware of how long it has been since I have shared an update; every time I sit down to write, I end up… Read more
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This Week . . . A Month
Earlier this week, as my devising group and I were checking in, I began by saying, “This week . . .” and my colleague Felipe finished my sentence with, “a month.” And that was only Wednesday! The last week and a half of my life, our lives, has been so full, with painful, hard conversations,… Read more
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The Accidental Fulfillment of a Lifelong Dream, and other small miracles
My bedroom windows face the street, my favorite way for my bedroom windows to face. On the lower half of the windows is translucent, prismatic contact paper, which I dislike because it keeps me from staring down at the goings-on below me, but which I appreciate because it distorts the bright lights that would otherwise… Read more
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1 January, 2025
Let’s play a game. Let’s call it “What if, in 2025 . . .?” Humanity is wrestling with itself for its own survival. With the blunt instruments of bombs, disinformation overwhelm, and two-party elections, we conduct our philosophical explorations into when the deaths of children are justified, and who has the right to kill them;… Read more
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im Gleichgewicht
Merry Fourth Day of Christmas, vom der staat Nordrhein-Westfalen im Deutschland! I am sitting on the sofa at Inge and Karl Heinz’s house, watching the unhurried turning of the huge windmill’s unbelievable sails as the setting sun sets jet trails a blazing orange above the deep blue silhouettes of the mittelgebirge, themselves hunching shadows behind… Read more
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Samedi Soir a Paris
Despite its cozy appearance (and ‘cozy’ may be an understatement), this little French pub is freezing. Paris is the worst kind of cold tonight: windy, hovering just above freezing, and throwing biting little raindrops every which way. But this tiny corner bar is staffed by a young woman wearing cat-eyed liquid liner and a hoodie.… Read more
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On Process
Fall in love with a Questing Beast— Face of a pageant queen Bones of road cases and caravans Body of a dancer and bawdy like a punk band Tree roots for feet and the heart, a hearthfire. With a partner, pursue.Turn your back to give the knife a broader target. Bleed out go blind get… Read more