Saturday, September 17, 2011


My grandmother just died. The mother of my father. It is sad and it is not. She was for me and my parents long time ago not from our world anymore as she was a vegetable, not capable of doing anything by herself. So it is not sad and even a relief, probably for her and certainly for my parents who do not have to pay a fortune to keep her alive in this antechamber of death where she lived the last years. It is sad because the last time I saw her was I think two years ago when visiting my parents and friends in Paris, I went with my mother to see her. As the time before she did not recognize me when she is the one who raised me because my parents worked a lot. I remember our breakfast paying cards together, our scrabble play on lazy Wednesday afternoons, our adventures in Paris well dressed to go shopping, the care she had for her beauty skin and nails, her impeccable way of wearing her dress, handbag and gloves, the whole body perching on high heels, she was to me a true lady that I admire and loved very deep in my heart. So it is sad to think that whatever you achieve in life, you’ll end sadly in a bedroom, dark, alone without even having a thinking or memory of it. Tears are rolling again on my face just by writing those lines but I truly wish she finds a new way to be happy where she flies now. I remember how many wonderful stories she told me, having had the privilege to watch the 20th century. Her father was a pioneer with airplanes in the East Europe, she spent her youth always in the move, traveling from country to another, having to adapt herself where her parents brought her. Approximate school years that she would eventually notice back to Paris where she had to re-adapt with a controlled scheduled, the little expat girl with her memory already full of images and faces, the children of her age would never probably have in their entire life. Then another unstable life, the second world war, met my grandfather, my father was born and 20 years later, here I was. I remember her preparing her trunk for holidays that she would make deliver to her holiday home in Brittany on the island. She always traveled “light”, a handbag and a magazine, my grandfather following religiously with his cig glued on his lips, and where they would stay 4 months. When they returned, there was always one present, of course, but also many new stories and It was the time of going back to school. And it went on and on for years until I made my own way. She kept her house as long as she could, long after my Grandfather's death but it came one day she fell and could not stand up anymore. Living alone inher house was not an option anymore and we had to place her in a house, you know, the one you wish never to go, where only people like you live. Though it is a nice one, very expensive, with caring and competent service, I know she spent almost the last years isolated. It's like my hamster who was used to live in the house free of cage. One day he made a big mistake and we had to put in in the cage and he died a few days later. I guess when you don't have any will to live anymore or no stimulation for your spirit and body, the only thing you want is to lie Earth as quick as you can. The last time I saw she did not even recognise me, thinking that I was a burglar coming to steal her jewelry. That hurt. Any way, I'm flying to Paris tomorrow, will stay a week, having the time after the ceremony to go and meet my best friends that i miss a lot. I think also what disturbs me is the fact that for the ceremony I will have to face people I didn't meet for more than 15 years. And the feeling that will come with it. I guess as usual I’ll be as closed as an oyster.My father asked me to do a speech, which I try to work on since two days without a big success. But I'll do my best, for you Grandma. So you know you will always be in my heart. Adieu, dear Grandmother.

Monday, September 5, 2011

Where was the bar ?

In a week, our beloved Kiki Blofeld will be closed forever. Unlike its fashionable neighbor ex-Bar25 - new KaterHolzig - which informed year after year that it-is-the-last-time-ever-come-celebrate-the-party-of-the-year (it finally happened last year), Kiki just made a note on its website confirming the news we had read in the daily paper. Some investor I guess bought this exclusive part of the land and probably next year, where we had until last night our feet in the sand near the fireplace watching the boats passing or stopping by, will stand a new empty offices’ skyscraper. The day had been beautiful, warm and sunny, a real summer day. We had so few this season. It was obvious we had to enjoy looking at the stars and Kiki Blofeld was the only choice possible. For a short moment, I suggested going to the lake but no, the lake will be there next year when Kiki Blofeld won’t. We arrived right on time to enjoy sunset and listening to the concert it was playing on the roof terrace. We quickly moved for a more comfortable place on the beach near the fireplace for the next drink listening this time a concert of Balkan music by Fanfare Kalashnikov. When the music stopped, people assembled near us because when the stars shined that night, the firework exploded. It was very intense. The time to finish the (x biiiiiiiip) drink and It was time to take our way to the boat garage where the party started. A mix of North African and Balkan music awaited us played together with live instruments by Dj Barış Cengiz und Dj Gypsy Aldi, comfy in our red velvet sofa, we felt the urge to share our sadness about this great location’s coming to an end and we will miss it. Now only a place in our mind. Another part of the Berlin, the one that made its name and reputation, is going away against profitable gain and with it a part as well of our energy to keep it alive as it welcomed us years ago. Another great step of what is called now in the city “Gentrifizierung”: I really start to understand the meaning of it.

Sunday, September 4, 2011


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Thank you's

for the comments I receive.
It is much appreciated.
If you have any ideas of what you wish to see in this blog, feel free to share.
To Susan : happy that my photographs bring you (hopefully nice) memories.
But between you and me, Berlin's wall is still up, in a way.

Money again

No money in the pocket, can't withdraw, I feel alone and abandonned but alive and free. Strange sensation.

Harry Potter, the last one

I just saw yesterday evening the last Harry Potter. It’s like living someone you met years ago and say him growing and know that you will never see him again. I didn’t read the books, probably never will, but fans expect always that the director puts in images what they read and what their imagination created. In fact, I heard It is the fact, maybe outside the previous episode which was very disappointing (prince of something, can’t remember). Anyway, the first part of the last episode, unfortunately, I completely passed in theatres and watched it on my computer screen, which was ok but not very thrilling. So I wanted to see this very last movie in good conditions, in 3D (It’s trendy today), booked my seat well situated, far from screen, high, bought my ice cream and lemonade, not too late in the evening so I can still focus and here we go ! It’s disturbing in a way because we go immediately in the story when I was expecting a few seconds of the previous one, just as reminder, but not at all. Of course, Harry can’t die, of course the angry one will disappear, of course my beloved cute Ron will not have sex with me (I have a little something for red head) but will kiss Hermine (since the time we are awaiting) and everything is going to be ok. In the end, no surprise, I liked the 3D because it was not a following of images bouncing in your eyes but more something like reliefs. And we noticed that we all grew up and there were no children in the theatre but only people our age. It’s not that I was expecting an action movie but Ron and Hermine kissing in the middle of the battle or waiting calmly down the stairs that Harry comes back is surprising. Furthermore, I had the feeling that everyone fights when the three of them have really something else to do (is also true). When the story is completed, suddenly we make a jump 19 years forward and we the story carries on with the children of them all departing on the platform kissing goodbye their parents awaiting the last advice (Ron, yes, you look fine with the beard). Anytime soon, I’m sure, they will do a Harry Potter 2, the son of his father.