leaving the brauerei

For the last nine months, I’ve been living in a beautiful, isolated small apartment, by virtue of being on a hill, high above Berlin. By virtue also of an empty Brauerei returning to wilderness. Plants, shrubs, possibly even young trees are sprouting from its eaves and gutters and roof. For winter it was a mesmerising dance of muted colour under snow and weak light. Summer brought with it a jungle, rich saturated vegetation, the brilliant greens jumping out of the tan and red brickwork and slate tiles.

Today I leave. Cleaning. Packing almost done. I slept in, even. A rarity when only on the weekend do I have time to dance, but for this morning, a more leisurely approach to this day felt needed.

I have accumulated much in the past nine months. Well, much for me. The two suitcases I arrived with have swollen to number four additional bags. I move north then, the view is not comparable, and while it is a pretty and homely place I go to, I am leaving somewhere I could have easily spent years in.

Impermanence. Wondering how long will I stay anywhere, and when friends remain in one home for three years and I make my way through a clutch of countries in that time… More than one year in Berlin. Yes, planning on new things again, more dance, more attention to the things that interest me… a solo of course. Yes, as unsurprising as what I wrote in November was, so should that last remark be equally unsurprising.

Photos then. The Brauerei last night, as a storm moved in. Autumn is pushing back sumer, at first in the cooler nights, then whole days of inclement grey, rain, and lowering skies. Still not the burdening and monotone expanse of deep autumn, and still yet days of summer to arrive, but unlike those days in March, bursting out of winter, when we lay on the grass beside Engelbecken, soaking in warmth and brightness, these days hold the imminent coming of the coldest season.