"The most secret movements of the inner world are inaccessible to words." -Hegel. Berlin with all the interleaving of sinister violence, layered decadence, its brilliance of intellectual thought, outpourings of creativity, music swirling over all, has also its physical elements as great implacable givens. When I first arrived, the heavy gloom was palpable. It was dark, it rained, I couldn't see. It then snowed, it was dark, I couldn't see. Since then it rained, it was dark, I couldn't see. It rained and rained, snowed and snowed, was dark, and I couldn't see. Being built on a swamp, the water table is high, and with so much reconstruction digging down for the vast new structures, water has to be constantly pumped out of these sites into the river Spree. The sewers smell of dank foulness as one passes their vents. All of this is imbedded into Berlin, as much as the grisly past, points of candle lights, magnificent accomplishments. There is movement in all this, change and the excitement of new possibilities, perhaps uniquely so. These shifting blocks, at this time, and here.
Now, overnight before my eyes sunlight has entered Berlin, transforming it entirely. Throwing off the long dark winter, everyone is out on the streets and parks breathing in sunlight through their pores. One can feel the instinctive awakening; at last it has come. One turns one's face to the light. Up on the hill of Mauer (Wall) Park, it is as crowded and festive as any beach in the summer. After all the darkness this brilliant explosion of sunlight has magnetically drawn everyone outside as if sucked by a radiant vacuum. The Milchhof studio building is empty of artists. It may be a false spring, so enjoy it now. On the hill built out of the debris and bones of war, the large swings swoop out over the city, both children and adults pump their legs swinging out, letting their cares, the past go. Here comes the Future. We are alive.
