Berlin’s strong and established Art Scene feels different to Barcelona’s. There is something harder, cleaner, meaner, more restrained yet more extreme, less organic and lyrical yet more constructed and defined (none of this, I think, is derogatory or worse, or better, just different).

It’s difficult to pinpoint exactly where the differences lie. Is it the way they carefully enunciate all their letters with perfect clarity and unchanging intonation? Is it the ordered neatness and precision of their shop fronts and haircuts and metro system? Is it the flatness of the land, only broken by the huge, square architecture? Contrast this to the narrow and jumbled urine soaked streets of Barcy, where the dark and curly long-locked hair of the Spaniards often flow in messy modern mullets, where the language sings and play is a lifestyle rather than a hobby.

My plans to return to Barcelona to live and work are being backed by plans to do the same in Berlin, too bad I don’t speak the language of either country… ahh, life is an adventure!

In other news,

:: Twice, in two completely different parts of the city I ran into Julian from The Presets.
:: Previously I denounced T-Shirt Slogans, but we’ve seen some great ones in Europe. Including, “Everybody Loves A Jewish Boy”, “Will Fuck For Coke”, “Good Music I Dance, Bad Music I Not Dance”, and the one I purchased from a radio station stall at Sonar “Hang The Dj!!”
:: I lost my I-pod cover and have been using a stripy coloured sock in its place.
:: There are an unusual number of Americans here in Berlin. Why?