Clockenflap 2009 – Saturday in Pictures

Saturday night and i’m contemplating my options.   I finally managed to get through the Clockenflap edit.  It was only last weekend but, for some reason, it feels like forever ago.  Something is strange about time here in Hong Kong…it sneaks up on you incredibly quickly and when you look back on it in retrospect it still zooms, but it seems to stretch too – like the credits in Star Wars.

The Cyberport in Pok Fu Lam was home to a 2 day music festival last weekend with the strange and, perhaps unfortunate, name of Clockenflap.  I scored a media pass and spent the better part of Saturday seeing how the indie culture in Hong Kong lives and hearing some new music.  The crowd was dressed for the occasion and well-behaved and, generally speaking , it felt like a family affair.  Soft, short grass in tiers down to a big stage it was the perfect combination of awesome, big production with the down-home feel of a little show.  Really a nice combination.

Indie Pop 'aint Noise Pollution

If i’m honest, theres’s only 2 bands that I will say something about of the 10 or so that I photographed.  It’s entirely possible that they were all amazing and noteworthy (well, probably not all) but there were two that really caught my attention – Chochuckmo and the all-powerful, electro clash machine that is Pet Conspiracy.

Chochuckmo is a rock band that has the full support of Time Out Hong Kong so it’s been hard not to hear about them here.  Considering all the hype, they still brought it.  The lead singer is definitely a rock star and the music was good.  Im not sure what they were singing about per se but perhaps I’ll pay more attention to the lyrics when I go see them again next week.  Here are a couple of my fav shots of them though feel free to check out my whole set right here.

Chochuckmo @ Clockenflap

Chochuckmo

Chochuckmo

Shortly after these guys left the stage the sun started to go down and with it, any doubt that Clockenflap would come and go without leaving me rocked.  Pet Conspiracy is an electro clash band from Beijing and from the moment their set started to the second it ended, every minute was charged.  They were totally awesome for lack of a better word.  The crowd lit up and by the end of the set there was a beer pouring, crowd surfing, body-slamming Chinese disco party in action.  I have since checked out all their videos on YouTube and downloaded the latest ep.  None of it is bad but it doesn’t touch what they do on stage.  Here’s a pretty tame and sweet track called ‘Love is Dead’ but don’t let that fool you….They are smart and sophisticated and brimming with awesome.  I can’t wait to see these guys again and if the gods are smiling on me than it will be a double bill with their American evil twins Heloise & the Savoir Faire.

Pet Conspiracy

Pet Conspiracy @ Clockenflap

Pet Conspiracy

Pet Conspiracy

Sex Machine - Pet Conspiracy

Pet Conspiracy

Pet Conspiracy

Pet Conspiracy

As I write their song ‘What Do You Want’ is playing loud and I’m wondering why I didn’t post that one for you…oh well.  Maybe another day.  If you’re curious to see more of the hot, hot Pet Conspiracy click here for more images and here for their MySpace page.  I’ve said it before and now i’ll say it again, Beijing rocks!

Alexis Taylor from Hot Chip was the poor purple-clad fool who had to follow an act that is hard to follow.  I’m not dialed in on whats cool with the DJ set thing but i’m pretty sure this wasn’t it.  It was all a little fragile sounding to me and lacking any real meat.  Maybe that was the point, i’m not sure.  In any case, he was wearing a rad purple suit so you’ve got to give that to him.  Click here to see that nice blazer i’m talking about.

Alexis Taylor (Hot Chip) - Clockenflap DJ Set

There are more images and more stories to tell for sure but that’s what I feel like sharing.  Click here to peruse some more rock and ambiance shots if you’re so inclined…

At this very moment I am supposed to be packing my camera for a night of Swedish hip hop at Fringe Club but my motivation is lacking.  Im feeling cozy on my couch and reliving Clockenflap has proved nourishing enough to satiate my need for rock.

Music Is Life

Edible Bird (Nesting)

Ok.

Friday is here and before I head out the door to work I am going to make this promise to myself…today I am going nest a little.  A bank account is priority numero Uno since I’ve accumulated a few Hong Kong dollars that need a place to sit but I also want to get myself a calendar so I can be more deliberate about planning my off & on time.  I’m approaching the 4 week mark and, though it hasn’t been that long, it’s been long enough to admit that I live here now and I need to stop living out of a suitcase and on take-out.  With dear friends on the way here and more on the horizon I want to be a hostess and not a tourist.  I’ll start today.

Tonight I settle…tomorrow morning I’ll head to the South side of Hong Kong Island to the Cyberport to shoot a festival called Clockenflap before heading to the airport to scoop up the jet-setting J&D who will grace me with their presence through Tuesday morning.  I’m looking forward to friends in the vicinity…

Speaking of friends in the vicinity, I just got confirmation that christmas in Singapore is ON! and it’s looking like Cambodia and Japan are in the ‘almost booked’ pipeline….More on that later

Bring Me That Horizon

The lightning bolts that were shooting out of my neck and keeping me from turning my head in any direction had me thinking, for a while anyways, that maybe I shouldn’t turn my head.  Maybe I should just point forward.  Straight ahead.  Now that the electricity has dissipated and I have my peripheral vision back I realize that there was no point to the pinched nerve at all.  It was just good bad luck and a little whiplash.

So flying over the Alps yesterday I was hit with a wave of sadness.  It wasn’t all sadness.  There was a lot of gratitude and excitement and anticipation mixed in but the underlying current was definitely sadness.  Every time I’m about to leave one land for another I get sad.  I don’t think I’ve ever taken my life in the Tyrolean Alps for granted but knowing that I won’t be flying in and out of them, riding up and sliding down them, seeing the sun set pink behind them or falling asleep under their big, blue shadows made me pause.

In an effort to not take anything for granted, I hopped, skipped and flew back to the USA for a whirlwind love-in with friends and family before my schlep East.  I’ve got a big job ahead of me and its a stupidly long flight so I figured I’d head back now to feel less pressure later.  I’ll let you know how that strategy works out.

I started things off in Vermont with some Burlington, some Mud City and some Isle La Mott.  Getting up there was a shit show but upon arrival I was in good hands and let the good times roll.  More rolly than rocky, it felt great to be back in the green mountains.  I caught a glimpse of my future here and there in the ponds and trees and, as is always the case, I brought some VT home with me.  Here’s a couple of my favorite pix, but click here for the whole album.

Green Garden - Mud City

Lake Champlain Sunset

Very Nice People

I headed South to New Jersey for some quality time with my Grandfather and was swept into total puppy frenzy with Annie the puggle.  As is always true, I enjoyed every moment with Popi though I dream of the day I will be able to beat him at dominos.  The time flew by too fast and it was hard to say goodbye…Here are a couple of my favorite shots from Jerz, but click here for the whole album.

Let sleeping puggles lie

annie

american dreams of a jersey girl

After Jerz I had a therapeutic and relaxing hot minute in CT with my Aunt and Uncle and then it was time to head back to the metropolis for a quick hello with Jamie, Marc & Kelly’s wedding and some Brooklyn love.  Celebrating the love of two dear friends at the juncture of the Brooklyn and Manhattan bridges is a fine way to spend a Saturday.  Here are a couple of my favs but click here for the whole album…

Marc & Kelly

yummers

There is no doubt that hopping on the F Train feels like a breath of fresh air and there is also no doubt that the throbbing metropolis still feels like home.  After the wedding and more mojitos than I remember I shimmered my way to Crown Heights for a little more merry-making with another group of lovelies…birthday cakes, microbrews, fanny packs and Michael Jackson.  Click it!

Mia - Big Buck Hunter

la-la-la-ladies

red velvet

My hangover made me late but not un-ready for a spectacular Sunday…a Sunday entailing a new BMW motorcycle, the Meadowlands, wind in my hair and some good times with yet another dear friend.  You can only get a little bit more “American” than an NFL football game in New Jersey complete with tailgate and piss-beer so it was an excellent way to see myself off the continent.  I wasn’t sure I would enjoy sitting on the back of a motorcycle on the BQE but I was pleasantly surprised…really good times!

All the fun and merry-making left me hurtin’ but I was able to squeak in a last minute lunch with another all-star, D, before a date with a chiropractor and then an epicly uncomfortable ride…but it ended with a spectacular view of my amazing backyard and then 2 very, furry kittens. The stress is real now, the job is big but the truth is that everything is good – really good – and I am an incredibly lucky woman.

“It is a profound mistake to think that everything has been discovered; as well think the horizon the boundary of the world” ~Antoine Merin Lemierre

Everything that Came Before

The last week has felt a bit like that spot in a waterfall, right before the edge where the water is thick and fast and clear.  Right before it slips over the edge and falls with the weight of everything that came before there is clarity…all the molecules concentrated and moving together. My molecules were bouncing the last month or so but last week I felt them concentrating and gathering momentum.

A quick trip to London for work was a nice break from the mountain paradise I usually while away my days in.  90% work and 10% shopping, it wasn’t particularly balanced but it was worth the time.  I always appreciate an opportunity to inspire with stories about the many attributes of the amazing crystal we make at Swarovski and that was the purpose of the trip.  I had the privilege of doing my work in the amazing new Atelier Swarovski showroom and even without any effort at all, visitors are inspired.  I really do work for an amazing company…Here is a peek behind the crystal curtain…

As soon as I caught my breath from the U.K. it was already time to roll up the hill to the castle to see Plattenbau….the house of musik.  I’m not sure where the inspiration came from, or the records for that matter, but Albi and friends built a house of records.  A kitchen (including a working coffee machine!), bathroom, bedroom and even a nursery…Here are a couple photos for your viewing pleasure though the house will stand for another week or so, so if you can see it in person I would recommend it.  Click here for the whole album…

The plan for Saturday was to begin the beginnings of a new commission that I am hoping to get…involving water.  Wendy and I headed out to waterfalls in Innsbruck, the Piburgersee and then found a spot on the river in Kranebitten.  It was a seriously productive day…seriously fun and seriously exhausting.  The majority of the photos I shot will stay safely in my computer but I can give you a glimpse of some of the locations where the ‘real’ work went down.  The waterfall pre-Piburger was both beautiful and deafening.  I was standing in that icy cold mountain water for hours trying to get the shot and hope to be able to show you the fruits of those hypothermic efforts sometime early next year.

Piburgrsee, in Ötztal, is one of the loveliest lakes I have visited since living in the Tirol….perhaps one of the loveliest lakes ever.  Uschi and a handful of other friends all agreed it’s worth seeing and it was.  A mossy, lush, green path to the lake and then a steep, rocky bank dotted with hammocks and sun lovers.  I took a dip in the dark turquoise water and considered how what my next afternoon at that lake will look like…

Click here to see more of this beautiful mountain lake.  The river bed post-Piburger was both beautiful and sun-drenched…in addition to the zen-like trance that the river slips you into you can watch planes land at Innsbruck flughafen…

“It is wise to bring some water, when one goes out to look for water” ~Arab Proverb

2 Outta 5 Ain’t Bad

Last Thursday morning I hopped in my car after grabbing a latte and headed towards Wattens.  A song came on FM4 that caught my attention and, for the first time in 2009, I told myself I was going to go buy that CD that night.  Those of us that see tons of shows every year absorb lots of music though it is both rare and lucky when something really gets your attention.  This was the case with the song ‘Mornings’ by a band called Portugal. The Man.  I arrived at my office with the song in my head and not more than 10 minutes later saw a FB update from a friend regarding a concert that very night.  Low and behold…Portugal The Man was playing Club Weekender the same night.  Synchronicity is one way to see it…dumb luck another.  An hour later I had a press pass and looked forward to the show all day.

The band surprised me with thier awesomeness.  Weepy, wonderful Eddie Hazel inspired guitar licks spun around catchy melodies and cosmic noise makes for an eclectic and addictive sound.  I have been listening to thier album The Satanic Satanist (silly name) all weekend and haven’t tired of it.  The last time I got this excited about a new album from a new band was, I think, when I  heard Black Mountain.  I showed up a little late for the set due to a date with Bruno at the Metropol (meh…) but was sucked immeadiately in.  Here are a couple of my favorite shots of this excellent band, but click here to see the whole set.

Portugal. The Man @ Weekender

Portugal. The Man - Innsbruck, Austria

It was a total surprise and I feel compelled to share.  Here is the song that I heard while driving that made me stop and listen (click here if you dont see the player). 

Friday was the 5 Year anniversary of my beloved pmk so it was a no-brainer that I would grab a camera and head to the bogen.  A stage outside from 8 until 11 was a nice change of pace and the rain held off long enough to let the party get going.  I shot 3 bands that night, the last of which was my favorite…a group from Vienna called Bulbul.  The guitar player was impossibly sexy so please forgive the bajillion photos of him in this set.  Here are a few of my favorites from the whole evening…

5 Jahre PMK

Beana & Stefan Lachinger & their perspectives on PMK

Sexjams - pmkBulbul - pmk

 Just before 1am the rain got heavier and my patience for slow beer lines and damp crowds waned and I headed home to lose my mind in the endless Six Feet Under marathon that has occupied my free moments in the last  2 weeks.  It was a great night all in all…made me proud to have been a part of the last 2 years at pmk, for sure.

Chris & Ulli Rock - Happy Birthday pmk!

Saturday and Sunday were a mix of snow showers, rain, sun, fog, winter, fall and summer so laying low and doing very little took almost no effort.  I manged to get my apartment clean (kind of) and to have some QT over chocolate cake (thanks Uschi!), Bananarama (thanks Michi!), red coconut curry (thanks Albi & Alex!), a walk in the park (thanks Beate!) and some delicious noodles and mushrooms (thanks Becky & Luca!)…lucky Bean, eh?  Yeah, I thought so too.  here’s a couple more snapshots from the weekend’s fun with the Business Edition…

thefutureisstupid

snowinsummer

window in a rainsoaked castle

Just because I genuinely care for you (you didn’t doubt that did you?) I’m going to kick down one more track from my new favorite band Portugal. The Man.  This one is called The Woods and had me dancing in my living room until the wee hours…(don’t see the player?  click here)

Scratch that Itch

Live hip hop concerts are rarely as good in practice as they are in theory.  Doesn't mean I won't keep trying.  Tonight I have the grand pleasure of seeing my favorite Jukebox Jockey's open for an icon at the Poolbar in Feldkirch:  Grandmaster Flash.

Endless Horizons: Part III – South Gobi, Mongolia

Ok.  I’ve put this off long enough.  It’s time to share some thoughts about my days in Mongolia before the memories fade and those days dissolve into the tapestry of stories and experience that lies half in the world we are all living in and half in my imagination (a world I rarely leave).

Gift for Buddah

I had no expectations for this leg of the journey except for distance.  I wanted to feel far, far away.  I wanted to be so far away, in fact, that from that distance I could see my own trajectory into the future…I wanted to see where my path is leading, my personal horizon and glean a clue about what’s next for Beana.  Mongolia can definitely deliver on ‘the middle of nowhere’ vibe that I am describing.  Tucked between Russia, China and Kazakhstan I was as remote as I have ever been.  It was perfect.  In a land with endless horizon I got a glimpse of my own.

Arriving by train gave me some time to prepare but, if I’m honest, it would be hard for anybody to be prepared for Ulaanbaatar.  A huge pothole trimmed with ger camp suburbs and a less-than-graceful attempt at civil engineering, you can almost feel the city growing as you stand in it.  The traffic is perpetually at ‘Midtown Manhattan rush hour’ levels with less grid and more chaos.  I had 3 nights in UB all together and, though I saw many parts of the city, I didn’t have time to do the solo wandering that always connects me to my destination.  The Soviet influence is clear and that stark, boxy aesthetic creates an odd texture when paired with the organic looking gers scattered throughout the city.

Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia

None of the ’sights’ in UB feel even remotely touristy.  Everything is so chill and relaxed that you can stumble into an amazing Temple Museum and not even realize it.  In China every facade was restored to a Disney-like-perfection where it was sometimes hard to imagine the monument or place being lived in.  In Mongolia it was far different.  Lived in is how the whole country felt…you can feel the life happening there, the pulse.  An absolute favorite day for me in UB was visiting the Ghandan Khiid Monastery.  This place is a living, breathing Buddhist temple where tourists are allowed entry to every single building there.  Monks out number visitors significantly so this is not a bad arrangement.  It was absolutely transcendental…one of the most beautiful and amazing things I have ever seen.  Drums and chanting and bells and prayer wheels with the smell of milktea hanging in the air, it was like time traveling.  Photos weren’t welcome here but I was allowed to make a couple…

Young Monks - Ghaandin Khiid Monastery

Aside from some sightseeing in UB, my only agenda was to score some boots that would let me ride like the wind when it came time for some horse trekking.  I got an A+ on this assignment and wait for Fall now so I can wear them every day.  A domestic flight carried me from Ulaanbaatar south to a ‘city’ called Dalanzgdad, or DZ.  I remember thinking that the runway at Ghengis Khaan Airport is the only stretch of pavement anywhere in UB without potholes.  Flying over the Gobi was as surreal as training through it but stepping outside the airport and seeing a battalion of 4 wheel drive vehicles brought me back to reality right quick.  Tuya and Nassa were my guides there, a young married couple, and it was clear I was in the right hands when the first words out of Tuya’s mouth after ‘welcome’ were, “welcome to south gobi, one of the most beautiful places in the world.  i love my country.’  After a short stop for gas we drove out into the steppe.  The sensation of leaving pavement and driving through wide open spaces is hard to describe.  Total freedom.  Unplugged.

Road Less Traveled - South Gobi

Thinking about 21st century nomads is something different than spending time with them.  Where there is water, there is life so the movement and routine of the herds people is far from random.  There is logic to the movement and safety in the routine and after water, shelter, community and food are the only other necessities.  And vodka, I suppose.  I can tell you that all the static electricity that is our Western social construct fades away when you see how life on Earth – one of the harshest places on Earth – is lived day to day.  Its humbling to see their strength and generosity and humor and it reinforces a notion that I think often – less is more.  Ankle bone horse racing, singing to one another, watching baby animals clumsily get acquainted with the world and taking joy in tending the herd and making the dairy is a rich and beautiful existence.  Many younger generations are tempted to leave these old ways and make a modern life in the city which is very sad to see…an entire culture going extinct.  What gives me hope is that even those trying for a new life in UB bring their children to their parents and aunts and uncles in the ‘countryside’ so most children there learn the ways of their families and honor their roots, if only for summers.

21st Centruy Nomads

Help for the Summer

I could write a book about how South Gobi impacted me but I am going to try to focus here.  There were 3 major sites that I visited:  Khongoryn Els or ‘the singing dunes,’ Yolyn Alm or ‘Eagle Gorge,’ and Banyzang or ‘the Flaming Cliffs.’  The dunes spoke to me on a personal level and therefore that is the story I will share now but I believe that it was seeing all three of them, the diversity of the Gobi, that made the experience so fantastic.  A little like in Las Vegas, the scale of everything in Gobi is a bit disorienting.  Things appear to be nearby that are actually 50km away so it is no surprise that I underestimated my ability to quickly summit the highest point for sunset.  The sand is so soft so for every 2 steps you take forward you slide back 3.  Imagine climbing a tidal wave and you can begin to fathom this experience.  With each handful of sand you push down in your effort to go up, you can feel – literally tons! – of sand moving beneath you.  As the sand slides over itself it makes a low, groaning and sweeping sound that is the song referred to when talking about the ’singing dunes.’  It’s impossible not to look down as you claw your way up so in addition to being physically grueling, it is also vertigo-inducing.  Not everybody could make it even halfway up and, with about 18 kilos of camera on my back, I was determined not to be among that group.  After 1 1/2 hour of OCD, Rainman-like counting….25 steps up, breath for 50…25 steps up, breath for 50…I made it to the top of the Gobi. 

Top of the Gobi

It was just Tuya, Nassa and I and they left me after an hour or so to have the sunset to myself.  I had the sublime pleasure of standing alone on a windless night, the faint sound of the dunes and some baby camels calling for mama in my ears, watching a pink and orange fireball light the desert up before sinking below the horizon and washing everything in lilac.  I can think of a handful of moments in my life when I have been in *exactly* the right place at the right time and this was one of them.  The same way the sun lit up the steppes and mountains and dunes, it lit me up to.  Life-altering and life-affirming travel, indeed.  The light that shone on me that night remains glowing and the clarity and vision that it revealed are making wheels turn as we speak.  The middle of nowhere was the center of me.

Singing Dunes

Khongryn Els

It is poetic and perfectly perfect that after this sublime moment alone with God that I hopped on a sled and let my adrenalin pump as I sped down the way I climbed up.  Its like enlightenment and rock and roll all at the same time…the kind of life I like living.   4 more days of traversing the desert allowed me to experience life in a ger, sample the vast and interesting assortment of dairy products made by the herds people, gallop across dunes on a camel named Huchbar, slide across a Gobi glacier and score a fossilized dinosaur egg at the Flaming Cliffs.  I was sad to say goodbye to Tuya and Nassa and their epic and awesome land but I feel like a piece of it came home with me.

Camel Herder & Baby Duck

Click here for a slideshow of my days in South Gobi.

The Music of Movement: Part 1 – Beijing & Mutianyu

In bed, listening to tunes and curled around my laptop like its a lover, I couldn’t fall asleep.  I wore myself out yesterday and should have been swimming in stars and the mist that was my dreams of yesterday, today and tomorrow but I was awake.  Wide awake. I feel like if I were sitting upright that  I would be on the edge of my seat…perched as though something certain is about to happen.  I’m pretty certain that the only thing I should expect is uncertainty, though, so I’m curious about what gives.  The endorphins from China and Mongolia did not dissipate upon my arrival home but, instead, channeled themselves right into the next adventure and I think it is this excitement that I am anticipating.  That said, I think it’s time to reflect on my past trip before I depart on the next one…

The whole holiday was a movement of music.  The rhythm and cadence of my movements was well choreographed and the itinerary was well-designed to carry me through.  A brief stop in Cairo could be equivalent to that moment before the concert when the lights go out and the audience wonders whats about to happen.  It was a clear departure from my current reality and an indicator that, like in the theater, it was time to suspend my disbelief and just let go.  A comedy of errors, between 2 broken buses, a ridiculous pig flu quarantine and over-friendly Air Egypt flight attendants, I was just happy to find my gate and some tea.  Prayers and chanting from a mosque echoed out into the terminal where I was sitting and they must have been heard because Allah carried us safely to Peking.

im out

5 days and nights alone in Beijing to feel myself away, shake off work and have some real quality time with the city was a perfect beginning.  I slipped slowly and sublimely into a groove that felt oddly like Orchard Street.  Same smells as the funny markets near my house, I felt closer to ‘home’ than I have in a while.  The melody began to take shape as I wandered all of Beijing – baseline of foot steps, the creaky rattle of the rickshaw, the echos and bells of the subway, the deafening squeak of the buses breaks, the spinning prayer wheels at the Llama Temple and the bi-lingual and ineffective conversation with the taxi drivers.

Rickshaw Driver - Beijing, China

Around the time that I was in sync with myself it was time to meet my guide and travel companion and begin a more structured exploration of the city.  At this point we got more ’serious’ about making sure that the history – the vast and long history – of the city was explored.  Between my days alone and with Tom, I saw : Tiananmen Square, Summer Palace, Forbidden City,  Temple of Heaven, Drum & Bell Towers, Panjiayuan Market, Silk Street, Longtan Park, Beihai Lake, the 798 Art District, the Birds Nest & Watercube, Monument to the Peoples Heros, Llama Temple, Dongyue Temple, Qianhai Lake, Donganmen Dajie and the night market, Ritan Park, a Peking Opera, some Kung Fu and countles hutongs throughout the city. To go through all of this would be a comprehensive travel guide and that is not on the agenda but feel free to ask me if you have any particular questions about these places or Beijing in general.

Summer Palace - Beijing, China

Hutong - Beijing, China

Restoration - Llama Temple - Beijing, China

Zhaoheng Gate - Temple of Heaven Park - Beijing, China

What I can say is that I was both saddened and inspired by what I saw.  The city is in flux, recovering from the INSANE growth spurt that was the Olympic games.  Tearing  down and building up, the air is always thick with brick dust and something that feels like a cross between hope and capitalism.  The locals that I connected with offered great insight on how that growth has dramatically changed their lives for the better – mainly in the form of mass transit, renovated monuments and public service announcements about enjoying themselves – and it was a unique perspective.  I still can’t put words to it but I also sensed a profound contradiction there.  Walls protecting more walls protecting courtyards with nothing in them maintained a symmetrical sense of power and control and ‘beauty’ but in a totally superficial way.  Meditation and self control focus on inner strength and substance yet there appears to be some ‘muscle’ or layer missing that connects this ’supreme’ facade with this inner power.  I got the sense that things were either all or nothing and can’t really explain it better than that.  What I can say is that the Emperor was surely a very lonely guy and China is a country in the midst of a fast and all-consuming transition.

Duan Gate - Forbidden City - Beijing, China

Offerings - Dongyue Temple - Beijing, China

Majong

Private Home - Hutong

A day before departing we headed about 2 hours north of the city to Mutianyu to see the Great Wall.  A ride up in the cable car that carried Slick Willy some years ago was funny and, from what I was told, an honor.  The throngs of tourists make this a difficult experience to absorb but that was true with a lot of what I visited in China.  Regardless, its a sight to behold.

Mutianyu - Great Wall of China

Mutianyu - Great Wall of China

"Be Loyal to Chairman Mao"

This search for meaning and understanding stayed with me the entire time I traveled in China and I look forward to seeing more of the country and discovering more.  Some high points for me in the city were the 798 Art District, Tiananmen Square, Ritan Park at 8am, buying electronics, eating any variety of fascinating (and sometimes tongue curling) street food, watching karaoke in Longtan Park, $8 full body massages (i think i had 4), a glimpse inside a private courtyard and, naturally, some quality time with the Great Wall.

798 Art District - Beijing, China

Peking Opera

Watch out for the stinky tofu - street food - Beijing, China

Ritan Park - Early Morning

Rainy Day - Summer Palace

You can get a better sense of what I saw by taking a pass through the images from Cairo, Beijing and Mutianyu right here.  For those of you particularly interested in Beijing’s art scene, click here for a focused album on the 798 District.  By the end of 9 days I had a handle on the town and was ready to shift gears and depart, across the Gobi to Mongolia.  Stay tuned for a recap about how the music changed on the leg from Beijing to Ulaanbaatar on the Trans-Siberian Railroad.  Paul Simon was right, ‘everybody loves the sound of a train in the distance.  everybody thinks its cool.’

Special Plums - yum!!

Over This Line You Do Not Cross

Last night I arrived at the pmk too early to capture the mood and insanity of a metal crowd that was there to check out the premier of Heavy Metal in Baghdad and then an act called Desert Sin.  I either arrived too early or the crowd arrived too late.  Or both.  Or neither.  Long story short, it was a very quiet night in the club and it was a real stretch to make vice-style people shots happen.

Though I wasn’t super thrilled with the task at hand, I did almost start a fist fight.  Perhaps I was frustrated at the fact that I agreed to shoot photos that I knew I was going to hate to shoot or that this crazy bitch kept following me with her cell phone camera.  Following somebody around an empty club is a lot more conspicuous and irritating then doing so when there are people around.  Lindsey Lohan style, I shoved my hand in front of her camera after her 5th or 6th insanity check and then tried to be reasonable.  It ended with something like me saying, ” Verstehst du fuck off?”  Basically, do you understand the words fuck off?  I’m more of a lover than a fighter but man, I wanted to slap that bitch.

The first day of double-duty is done for today and there are 2 more to go.  Tonight some Swarovski-oriented extra curricular time and then tomorrow SoundCity.  I will shake off my disdain for shooting party pix, do a great job for the people paying me and then squarely admit that I have found the line at which point I will not cross…beana doesn’t want to photograph drunkies for money.  There,  I said it.

Mutha

“Every man, for the sake of the great blessed Mother in Heaven, and for the love of his own little mother on earth, should handle all womankind gently, and hold them in all Honor.”

~Alfred Lord Tennyson

Happy Mothers Day

Roads We Abandon, Roads We Take

Pacing along the banks of Lake Zurich last Thursday night I found my mind skipping like a stone across placid water; ripples bumping into ripples, circles breaking surface tension, the stone eventually dipping below the surface and sinking out of sight.  Anticipation, I think, is the fine line between anxiety and positive expectations and when traversed like a tight rope  it can be an exciting ride.  I awoke on Friday to a stillness that seldom visits me and headed to Zurich to open a door I had closed more than 2 years ago.  A delay proved to not ripple those still waters and, as though no time had passed, we said ‘hello’ and headed south to the Italian Riveria.

Anticipation - Zurichsee

If I could drink the air in Cinque Terre like a cocktail I would do so happily with some muddled sunshine and a dash of sea salt.  This delicious concoction couldn’t be enjoyed in a dainty, fragile martini glass but should be served instead in a big, wide wooden bowl so the sweetness and salt drips down your cheeks as you drink it in.  Cresting the first cliff on our way into Riomaggiore, the Mediterranean spread out bright blue beneath us, it was clear this was not going to be an average weekend  road trip.  The phrase ‘be careful what you wish for’ has surprised me with its truthiness more times than I can count so I’m not sure why I find/found myself suddenly so surprised.

Dont Look Back - Cinque Terre

The villages of Cinque Terre look like precariously stacked building blocks, colorful and Seuss-like, all ready to topple and tumble into the sea at any moment.  Tucked into terraces of grape vines and lemon trees, its no surprise that the entire place smells as sweet as honey.  Blue skies, deep turquoise water and a little gravity pulled us down the hill into town and, after a cafe latte, a rush of walking stick-carrying toursist swept us up onto the Via dell Amore (Walk of Love).  Even with what felt like a swarm of people around me, the serenity of Cinque Terre still managed to envelope me.  I abandoned any conflicts I had with sharing the Via dell Amore with both Uncertainty and Strangers and coasted the 5-6 kilomenteres from Riomaggiore, through Manarola to Corneglia.

Riomaggiore, Italy - Cinque Terre

Hot in the sun and cool in the shade, the deep deeeep deeeeeep emerald blue of the Mediterrenean called to me like the sirens song and in Corneglia I made a B-Line to the ‘marina’ to get my feet wet.  He observed right around then that when I want something there is often no stoppping me and I had to (and still have to) agree.  Some frozen lemonade, sweet truths and an uncomfortably packed train ride later we arrived in Monterossa where I let myself get swallowed up by the Big Blue.  Seeing my reflection, hair salty and wet, in his sunglasses after my swim I saw myself clearly, the lines and definition made sharper with the yellow light.  With the sun behind us we rode the ferry back the way we had come with our first glimpse of Vernazza and a sunset landing back home in Riomaggiore.  From some stairs by our rented room we watched the sun go down and I considered how I might go about botteling the sky so as to let it free in my apartment when I returned home.

Sunday - Monterossa, Italy

Leaving the Coast the following morning I drank in my last breaths of salty sea air and Ligurian romance, rubbed my belly where the mounds of fresh seafood were still being digested and smiled at my travel companion who was shuttling us north to Tuscany.  For the last months I have been counting down the days to my trip to the Far East and somehow, magically I was not wandering alone in the Gobi but first skipping over the hills of Tuscany like a stone on water…that cliche about finding things when you stop looking is a cliche for a reason.  Secret vacations and lost weekends could very well be the fuel that propels any woman out of bed in the morning and smiling through her days.

Cinque Terre

This trip went further inward than the mere 1000 kilometers we did on land and the cyprus trees and rolling hills were more of a backdrop than the focus.  Something about travel and the world speeding outside the window frees me and this trip, though not a solo sojourn, was no different.  As I grow (um…older) it gets easier and easier to be the same person regardless of company and geography and I am always surprised at the weight that that honesty can lift.  That statement makes me think of an image of Atlas carrying the world on his back but I think that Hercules was the stronger of the two…

A Bean Divided - Tuscany

Riding bikes around the walls of lovely Lucca, crawling over the hills and fields of Tuscany and the Apanine Alps the day passed slowly before we landed like a glider on the banks of Lake Garda.  Hotel Lido was aptly tucked into a small town called Val di Sogno, Valley of Dreams, and from our balcony we watched the twilight sky go from blue to purple to black.  ‘House red’ is always a good call in Italy and a large carafe liberated some of the harder truths and realities that this trip brought to the surface.  The whole journey, the whole week actually, were something of a crescendo.  More information, more intensity each day.  It built like a wave in the ocean and Lago di Garda was the point when the first bits of white froth curled over and fell back to the sea.  Truths, even when they are dark and prickely, are better than the alternative and with the sunrise on Monday came a renewed sense of understanding and desire to enjoy the day.

Speeding Through Garda

Breakfast crepes, 2 caffe lattes and a castle on a lake are a perfect day by themselves so the laughter and conversation and photos and the rest were all gravy.  We landed back in Innsbruck in time to see the sun set on my Alps, the Tirolean Alps, and relaxed in the furry paws of my best boys.  Though the trip was over for me, the crescendo continued to build and rise, revealing more information and asking more questions up until yesterday when a train and then some planes carried my friend away.  The crescendo crashed like they are wont to do, a wave on the sand sliding slowly and surely back to the sea.  The melody changed now softer, clearer and speaking plainly.

My suitcase remains out.  My passport returns home from the Russian and Chinese consulates next week and in 2 weeks time I will fly away.  Again.  This time alone.  The juxtaposition of a trip spent so clearly together to a trip so clearly alone should provide some contrast and context to consider both where I stand and where I’m going.  I have plenty of food for thought.

Local Ligurian Lemons

If you’d like to enjoy some more photos of 72 hours in Italy, click here for the whole album.