Well Miss Uppity, I was revelling in how I've assimilated my environment and thinking how nervous I had been on the U-Bahn at first, sitting on the edge of the seat, (and by the way one can mostly always get a seat), not taking my eyes away for a second searching for the signs that would be my stop, and now how different how relaxed; a seasoned Berlin traveller reading the weekly Guardian, when you guessed it, I went right past Alexanderplatz. But at least I didn't feel lost forever, as I might have done then. Worse though was my always making myself look left first when I cross the road, which I thought I had mastered well, but today I stepped out, after looking left, but preoccupied, I must have just glanced left without really taking it in, because I was looking at the empty road to the right when I stepped out. At that instant a bicycle whizzed past about two centimetres from my face, and aghast I also saw a car that had stopped just behind. That was shocking. ‘But there never is any traffic on this road' came into my mind. That's the problem, glancing but not seeing, my mind not paying attention.
After a month as recluse I have built up a routine, a satisfying rhythm of drawing, writing, reading, going to see things on my own. All along probably whingeing about never seeing a soul. Well now with these new contacts, along with the new canvases that will be stretched with Manfred, I have social appointments every day for the next seven days. My anxiety now, since I seem to need to worry, is having enough time on my own and fitting everything in. Un embarrasses des riches. Is it ‘too much of a good thing'? Or rather ‘you don't know how lucky you are'? Yes.
