The Road to Budapest (and other adventures)

Random Picts

2008-07-10T04:53:00.001-07:00

Enjoy random picts of the view from the Palace looking down at Pest across the Danube, "walk" sign, homeless man sleeping on public artwork, dog, real estate posts (are you looking for a vacation home in Budapest?), Odette/Jenna/Howard on the open museum evening at the Palace, Howard in the pub, Bunny on post, and "parent walking bunny children" street sign.

More images and stories coming soon...

Szentendre

2008-07-05T03:58:00.000-07:00

Wed 7/2 - We took a day trip w/ Beata, her daughter Beata Veszely and Pedi (B’s grandson), Jenna, Howard, Andreas and I. We began seeing ruins and ended up in Szentendre a lovely little town just outside of Budapest where we saw a government subsidized artist’s colony. The gov’t gives a select number of Hungarian artists studio and living space in the colony as well as a gallery to show their work in. This is lifelong support if you are accepted. The town itself is geared toward tourist traffic, but has a number of old buildings and museums including a Serbian church. Images attached.

Gellert Baths

2008-07-05T02:54:00.000-07:00

Thermal baths in Budapest are plentiful. There is a fee to enter the facilities, which cover a locker rental, use of the thermal baths and the swimming pools. Additional services, like a massage, mud bath, mouth massage or medical treatment can be added on for an additional fee. The Gellert Baths are perhaps the most famous of these. Located on the Buda side, just after crossing the Szabadsag bridge (the green bridge – this bridge is also the one suicides are committed from), the baths are inside the hotel. Matthew Barney shot part of his Cremaster series here as well and it has been a backdrop for many a project. The only odd thing about my experience there was the massage. First I asked a number of times why I had not come directly into the massage (I had spent 2 hrs photographing prior to getting into the spa facility), I was forgiven my lateness when I explained that I had 4 cameras w/ me and that I was a photographer. I was then asked to de-bathingsuit (in the Szechenyi baths the massage was done in a swim suit) infront of the attendant, then to lay on the massage table – no cover sheet (the bottom sheets had probably not been changed in a week – luckily I brought a towel to lay on), about 5-10 different people came in to visit and whisper w/ my masseuse and then at the end when I thought I was all done and needed to sit up, there was an additional shoulder/neck/arm massage while I was in the sitting position. I can recommend the massage if you’re willing to give up some western-massage preconceptions (and any self-consciousness). The structure is beautiful and worth seeing and enjoying for a day off.

Happy 4th of July

2008-07-04T10:39:00.001-07:00

Happy 4th! Wishing you a safe and fun holiday to enjoy the fireworks! Happy Birthday to Yas and Jonathan!

Crossing the Street and Recycled People

2008-07-04T10:26:00.000-07:00

Like most places outside of the US, traffic signals are more of a suggestion than a mandate. Odette reminded me of this in my first week here. This system of “suggested rules,” allows the citizen to truly make their own decision – rules, after all, are a choice (sometimes they can come with harsher punishments, but they are still a choice to follow or not). It is that way with illegal substances as well, possession and distribution is, of course, illegal, however if you have a small amount that you are personally using it can be “ignored” depending on what policeperson you happen to run into and how their day is going. There is a randomness to this that can both be a deterrent and a thrill. The comparison can be likened to “petting” a wild animal. Years ago, when we were dropped in the water with hundreds of sting rays (before the Crocodile Hunter was killed), there was an instant fear of what might happen, then the fear turned to awe that the sting rays would allow us to be in their territory, to stroke their smooth bodies and to take pictures with them. We acted as we would with a tame animal, all the while respecting their power and territory. The threat of being stung was still present, making the experience awesome (full of awe).

Upon crossing (standing in) the street, taking pictures of the opera house, I was met at the other side by a woman with platinum blonde hair and wide eyes filled with terror. I could only smile and say, “I’m paying attention, don’t worry.” This was the start of my beautiful encounter with a 60/70-something small exuberant woman who is the artist director of her own chamber orchestra. Perhaps it was the cheeks or the beautifully coiffed and styled hairdo or the smart matching powder blue suit she wore, or her abounding energy (that even quieted me down -- yes, I know that is a true miracle), but she reminded me so much of my deceased aunt. As we spoke more it became apparent that she and my aunt were somehow “soul sisters” separated by time and proximity, both teachers and directors of institutions, both having seen quite a colorful life (one in Hungary, one in Europe and Iran), not only that, but there was something in her eyes that was so familiar to me, like I had known her for my whole lifetime. We spoke of the Russian occupation of Hungary, the Bosnian war, her family, Hungarian jokes, the gifts of art, music and teaching…and even for only a bit about g(G)od. Although this sounds quite corny, before we parted, we had exchanged laughter, tears and love. For me, this finite encounter was also a way to remember the energy of my aunt and something already past that was gone again as soon as she went down into the underground to catch her train.

The other day (the day of my skull-cracking headache) I came across a man with a smart moustache that curled at the sides of his lips, unkempt hair a green suit and a handsome cane. In the haze of my pain, he walked straight up to me (I usually do this with other people, so it was quite unusual) and began speaking Hungarian as though we had greeted eachother many times. I told him I could not speak Hungarian and he began to speak Russian, German, French, Spanish and some broken English. He seemed a bit drunk to me and I felt a bit like death so instead of being able to pull out my camera and ask, “could I take your picture?” I was only able to excuse myself and smile as I left him. This man had been on my mind for days. I kept thinking about how he was the one person I’d like to run into again, to have a photograph of to remember because there was something about him that reminded me of my deceased uncle – again it was that unexplainable and sometimes silly sounding thing called “energy.” The strange thing was that although I did not have a photograph of the man, I could picture him perfectly in my mind. That same morning, I saw him again walking down the street. I waved and smiled at him, as though we had been doing it all our lives. I thought he might ignore me or that he had been drunk before and would perhaps not be as friendly this time for lack of libation. He stopped, turned around and began speaking to me again, calling me “California” (the last meeting he had asked where I came from). This time, I managed to understand him a bit more perhaps because I too was lucid. He told me Germenglish (German/English) that his grandchildren were in California and a few more things before I, again, had to rush off for a meeting. And unfortunately, again, I did not have my camera.

The idea of recycled people (for lack of a better word) is an interesting one. I’ve found that in my life, people (or that abstract thing called “energy”) come back again and again, until you finish your business with them. I don’t literally mean the same person comes back. Consider this concept in the most general of ways, none of us is ultimately unique, we share traits with people we’ve never even met. If we can pass on genetic traits to a generation we may never meet (our great great great grand children), why can we not pass on traits or energy via a collective conscious/unconscious. Why can people from different times and places not be the “same?” Perhaps I had met the two strangers here in Budapest to help me resolve something in my life or in theirs? The truth is that there is something about this road to Budapest, the trouble this country has been through, the pain people have shared for so many years, that makes me feel at home through empathy. The journey is somewhat akin to “going home again.” Returning for a moment to encounter all that has been and leaving once more on different terms.

Vienna in 2 Days

2008-07-01T13:46:00.000-07:00

If you’d like to go to Vienna and have only two days, I can suggest the following (to get the most of your visit).

Day 1
Arrive by train: Begin at the Hostel Ruthensteiner (super cheap, very clean, helpful and nice staff, and you can get a private room if you’d prefer), just a stone’s throw from the train station and the underground. Breakfast can be had at any of the number of Turkish restaurants near the hostel and you’ll get complimentary tea with your meal. You are also located just near the Mariahilfer Str. Within a twenty-five minute walk from the hostel (on the Mariahilfer Str.) is some of the city’s best shopping, and the Museum Quartier and the Museum of Natural History and the Opera is just down the street. If you walk another twenty to thirty minutes from the see a load of other historic buildings and St. Stephen’s Cathedral. We began our first day at the Belevedere Castle to see “the Kiss” and other stunning artworks. The castle itself and it’s gardens are a must see and simply grand in every way. Afterwards walk to St. Stephen’s Cathedral and the main part of town, be sure to go to the top of St. Stephen’s tower and if you have an issue with heights, just get past the narrow metal grated bridge and you’ll be on a nice slab of stone and feel much better (and happy that you saw the city from above). Then take a walk or a carriage ride to see the main part of the town, statuary and a number of points of interest. Be advised that in NY the life span of carriage horses is only a couple of years, I don’t know if the same harsh conditions apply in Vienna. You’ll know when you’ve arrived because when you look up you’ll see massive Grecian (Venetian)-looking sculptures of nude deities in mid myth or oxidized copper and gold domes atop large white buildings. Be sure to stop and have your favorite coffee drink and a sumptuous sweet treat. All the cakes are moist and subtle especially the fruit topped ones. Finally you can explore the Museum Quartier and it’s courtyard and go to a lovely dinner on the Mariahilfer Str.

Day 2
Store your bags in a locker at the Hostel and head out for your adventure. Begin at Schoenbrunn Palace and see the gardens and the labyrinth. If you like antique furniture and didn’t get enough of the opulence of interiors in Belevedere, then take a tour of the inside of the Palace, we spent three hours exploring the outside, and eating brunch on the terrace atop the hill – the food is pricey but lovely. You can go from here to see the famous Vienna opera house (take the public transport as it is too far of a walk). Then you can walk from the opera house back to the Museum Quartier and purchase a combo ticket for the three main art museums: the Leopold Museum, the Kunsthalle (a great show there called "PUNK. No One is Innocent,") and the MUMOK (modern art museum which had the show "Bad Painting - Good Art.") This should take anywhere from three to 6 hours depending on how quickly you view the collections. The café outside of the Kunsthalle has wonderful drinks and food, and I recommend having dinner there. Afterwards you can stroll along the streets and window shop, stop at a few cafés to taste their cakes or just lounge outside in the terrace of the Museum Quartier on the lounge-like structures, while listening to music.

Note: If you haven't seen their work, take a look at the work of Derek Jarman (at the Kunsthalle) and if you love the work of Nan Goldin, look at Mark Morrisroe as well.

Turfted-Ear Squirrels, the Pearly Gates and Other Musings

2008-07-01T13:36:00.000-07:00

It has been a bit since I’ve updated. I could offer up the excuse that I stepped on my card reader (I did) or that Beata’s dog, Max, ate my homework or that the aliens temporarily abducted me; giant red squirrels with tufted ears (Jenna's favorite) invaded our flat and held us hostage while we fed them nuts and fanned them w/ leaves; the European cup finals could not be held without Odette, Jenna and I blessing the soccer ball (that is the secret reason we were in Vienna); I am really a fembot (from the old Bionic Woman tv show) and I didn’t recharge my batteries for a few days, etc (all true). Much has happened since the last post, Jenna and I missed our train back to Budapest (this means, that I misunderstood the guy who sold us the tickets and we were actually just chilling out completely unaware that our train had already left) and had to scramble to find quite possibly the last available room in Vienna. The Euro Cup was being held the weekend we were there and the town was overrun w/ wild drunken Spaniards and Germans. We stayed at a Pension (pen see eyon), these are supposed to be just a cut above the hostel dorm-like environment, but my theory is that people who don’t get much of a pension open up their scary houses and let you stay there while charging you. It’s just a theory. We did enjoy our hostel though, quite a bit. When we arrived back in Budapest on Sunday, everything was different. Perhaps leaving was the best way for me to appreciate the visual beauty of this city, because when I came back, aside from the overwhelming smell of cigarette smoke, I was awestruck yet again with how beautiful the city of Budapest actually is.

Going to Vienna is like walking into heaven and seeing what one imagines the pearly gates to look like. The city is white, touched with gold. Although both Budapest and Vienna were built around the same time, they are very different experiences and because of their proximity (a 3 hr train ride), I recommend seeing both. The streets of Budapest proudly ache with history, on every building you can see ornate details and sculptures contemplatively looking to the sky and the earth. The ornamental works are weighty in aesthetic and mood and the buildings are covered with their age. Many of these sculptures tell of the city’s history and remind you of the political past that the country has had to endure in the 20th century. Old structures are occasionally abutted against newer ones, aging and beautifying them even more. In Vienna, the visual candy is much more spread out and I cannot say that every street is an interesting one to go down and photograph (but in Budapest, I have found something I’d like to photograph down every street). There are times in Vienna when a feeling of artifice overwhelms and you wonder if behind the façade of the building there are sticks holding it up (something akin to the feeling one gets when walking down Disneyland’s “Mainstreet USA” – a bit too perfect). The streets, the buildings, the town looks as though it has been washed with bleach and toothbrushes and then delicately covered with gold accents to let it sparkle as you walk by. Vienna is also fresh and airy like freshly washed white linens hung to dry in the cool summer evening air. After a few hours, the questions of artifice pass and one feels at home and relaxed, like you’ve strolled these streets all your life and can continue for all the rest. Perhaps it was the phenomenal food or the plethora of exceptional cafés that we sat in, but Jenna and I were a bit tempted by the city’s pheromones as well. And if I didn’t mention this – the art is great. For me personally, Vienna was more interesting because I was walking the same streets and going to the same places that my grandparents and aunts and uncles had been 60+ years ago. It is interesting to think about making a slight bend in time and space via the portal of place and walking in their same footsteps if only for a moment.

Quick note: Vienna

2008-06-28T12:24:00.000-07:00

We're still in Vienna, enjoying the end of our whirlwind adventure. Two days of touring, museums, gardens, palaces, the opera house etc. We return tonight on the last train back to Budapest. The weather has been beautiful here and the food has been amazing. Jenna has been a wonderful friend, room&travel-mate and an invaluable navigator plotting our course throughout the city on various maps while I looked to the skies for picture opportunities. Take a peek at some of the wonderful art that we experienced first hand on our adventure (Gustav Klimt and Egon Schiele).

Terror

2008-06-26T07:24:00.001-07:00

A wonderful way to appreciate life and how privileged we really are is to step outside of routine and learn about the world and our human history. The Terror Museum is one of the must-see experiences of Budapest. Once inside you begin to understand the nature of what the people of this country have been through during the time of occupation by the Nazi's and the Soviets. The culture of terror that the region lived with until the early 1990s is heartbreaking. I only have a short time to write now, but will update this posting as I'd like to include some of the history I learned. There is one image attached taken from outside of the museum (the walls are lined with images of people victimized). The four images from the interior are 1) Photographs of victims wrapping the walls up 4 floors 2) A labyrinth of blocks of pig fat 3) An installation of a carpet/map with artifacts from each region floating atop 4) The "churches" room a large marble crucifix embedded in the floor.

Completely unrelated to this exhibit...Tonight the gang goes to an opening organized by Beata for the past artists who have done this residency and tomorrow morning Jenna and I will travel by train to Vienna for two days (I will not update until I get back from our short excursion).

If you have any interest in looking at very powerful artwork made in response to some of the atrocities of human history, look at the work of French photographer and installation artist, Christian Boltanski.

All the happy people

2008-06-25T11:29:00.000-07:00

It has been a strange and wonderful day. Wonderful for being lucky enough to wake up early enough to see (and shoot in) the brilliant morning light and strange because upon my return to the hotel the "vibe" (for lack of a better word) had changed. It is hard to explain the phenomena of a vibe. Perhaps it is an introspective mood or sensitivity to the world around you, or perhaps it is something unseen in the air that wafts from place to place to wrap itself around unsuspecting souls as they get lost in the fog of impending emotional limbo. For today, I think that focusing inward seems to be a potential culprit. Outside ourselves, so much adventure awaits. A word of wisdom from Chucku, "the one thing all happy people have in common is that they are grateful." Today I hope you can be grateful and happy for something or someone. Life can change so unexpectedly, it is good to appreciate what we have while it's here. If you have nothing else to be grateful for, be happy for this: that you're not a dead, stuffed, and on display.

Sun, Rain and Other Things of some or no Consequence

2008-06-24T14:29:00.000-07:00

On the worst of days, when the heat is visible and you awake to a large oven you call a bedroom, your skin feels as if someone has poured sugar water all over you and let it dry. On these days, be sure that the clouds will roll in completely unexpectedly, the lightning will sharpen the sky and the rain will wash away all the hot day brought and leave a cool sweet-smelling night. The light changes so subtly throughout the day that the overcast sky is always a welcome sight and then afterwards the streets are cool and the people are back at play, filling sidewalk cafes and pubs alike.

It is hard to sleep, each day begins with us waking to the heat of our bedroom after the sun hits the windows, almost as a group, we trickle up to the 7th floor (the ladies are staying on the 5th floor and the guys are on the 6th floor). Almost every day the ladies eat breakfast together and on most days we'll see one or two of the guys come in and eat as well. Afterwards, we all begin our work - Odette and I run out to shoot, Jenna begins her studio work and I'm not really sure what our male counterparts do with the day, but I'm sure they're just as busy as we are. By about midday (if I haven't lost my mind and decided to run around and have heat stroke), we return to visit galleries, museums or get research done. Then again by the evening, before the light is gone, I shoot again and come back to see what my roommates are up to for dinner. Often we bring some snacks to eat in the room. Tonight Jenna and I went for food and were drowned by smoke and heavy cologne scent. Everyone smokes. Smoking may actually be an unofficial national pasttime. J pointed out that perhaps we should carry out cards with Hungarian translations saying something like "It is 2008, much research has been done about smoking and here it is..." I'm in full agreement. The later the night gets, the more we wake up and I find myself out past midnight nearly every day (it is 1am now).

We've also found a few hangouts...Kiado Kocsma - a pub just down the block from our hotel is marvelous, the people are friendly and the food and drink are good (the lemonade especially as it is a bit of an odd mix of lemons, oranges and soda water). Did I mention that this is also our free wi-fi spot, so we all come here (I'm here now) to use the internet and work a bit out of our room. Our two friends who work here are Dane (a painter) and Otto (it could be spelled "Attil" who is active in bike messenger racing)...Also, "John's Bar," a little bar in the lobby of the hotel, where a man named John hangs out. John, originally from England, moved to Hungary some 13+ years ago and now teaches English here. We see him nearly every day in the bar, so we've dubbed it his. He is a wonderfully witty human being and we've all enjoyed his company and friendship. I can highly recommend both of these venues if you ever come to visit Budapest - if you're in John's Bar, you may also run into Gina and Atilla, who are lovely as well. The hotel/apt we're in is aesthetically very simple, but is comfortable and the location is quite wonderful. You can visit the hotel's website: Hotel Medosz

Lions, Bridges and Tunnels

2008-06-24T04:02:00.001-07:00

When I was a child I had a recurring dream, I would walk out of my backyard and down a
steep hill to the riverbank. Once there I would see cobblestone walkways, bridges and statues of giant stone lions. The dream always started just before the sun would set and I knew that as soon as the sun would set the lion statues would come to life and gobble up anyone by the riverside up. I would always head home just a bit too late and end up running and fighting for my life through a long tunnel for the remainder of the dream.

Budapest is filled with lion statues. Everywhere I turn, giant lions in bronze and stone. At both ends of the chain bridge, (the bridge that connects Pest to the Buda side and the royal palace) giant lion statues that resemble the exact ones from my dream guard the path. On the Buda side, under the royal palace, is a long tunnel. The first time I encountered them was right before sunset. I paused long enough to remember the dream/nightmare and quite bravely (only looking back once or twice) kept walking.

Offensively Hot

2008-06-23T14:42:00.000-07:00

The image was taken at Hero Square at night.

The spot is beautiful during the day, but, well...

you can see that at night, it is breathtaking.

Today was offensively hot (I've heard it was 107 in the Valley in CA also) - shall we blame it on global warming? I went in the morning to drop off some film but somehow lost all good sense and ended up outside all day without a hat. Even after drinking MASSES of water and wondering if I would singlehandedly deplete the world supply, I found myself dehydrated and with a throbbing heat induced headache. I did see the incredible parliament building, in front of which I was tempted to run in the sprinklers, but I thought better of it (as there were men w/ guns everywhere). The city is so beautiful and alive. I still haven't completely formed the way I want to describe the experience to you. There is still some lingering need of re-acclimating into my own skin. So, on I push, melting slowly under the Hungarian-sun.

Random Images and Getting Lost

2008-06-22T14:47:00.000-07:00

I'm including some random pictures for you to enjoy…dog with pacifier, underwater kiss (taken from a basement disco that is beneath a shallow pool of water), Howard, Jenna et moi (boarding a streetcar), Andreas, Jenna, Benjamin, Gregory, et (night out for dinner and a walk), and the image of the beetle that visited my face.

It has been exceedingly hot and sticky weather and we are all busy thinking about our work (and sweating). Last night was a city wide party wherein all the galleries and museums were open and had programs including music, performance, video/sound art and food/drink. The contemporary art museum was particularly lovely as was the view from atop the palace. I've been "getting lost" and shooting with the Yashica and the compact digital along with a new/old Soviet-Russian plastic camera called the Chajka ($6 with leather case).

The idea of "getting lost" is an interesting one. To be able to walk in no particular direction, only a direction that you have never gone. How easy it is to get caught in a routine, to go down the same road every day, to be trapped in auto-pilot. Getting lost allows for the briefest instant of being present and aware of everything around you, searching for some marker, some visual cue that will make a good image. When I initially set out for this sort of adventure I find myself disoriented and a bit uncomfortable. It takes a few moments to remember the intent and need to force myself to open up to interaction with total strangers again. Once I am thick in the picture making, the experience is much like "coming home." Tonight I wandered to the train station and met a man from India, a young Hungarian punk girl, a college student, and a Romanian gypsy. With these interactions I was, for all intents and purposes, found again. (Although that last bit sounds like I'm going to break into "Amazing Grace" - no worries, I won't).

The Old Synagogue

2008-06-21T07:22:00.000-07:00

Friday I visited the old Dohany Street Synagogue. Built in 1851 (according to my guide, 1854 in other sources) and eventually reconstructed 1991-1997 the synagogue holds 3000 people during the high holidays (and usually up to 6000 can be present). During WWII there were over 800,000 Jews living in Hungary, after the war 600,000 of them had been killed, I write this to you matter-of-factly and hope it reaches you on a deeper level as I am always in awe of how easy it is to be dismissive of the great human tragedies. In the temple there was a mass grave of over 300 bodies covered with a small spattering of marked headstones. The reason the synagogue still stands today goes back to the story of when the gestapo set up their headquarters in the second balcony tier during the war, because of this strange occupation, the Germans never bombed the building and because the Jews also occupied the building the Allied forces did not bomb it either....It is so hard to comprehend the massive nature of annihilation that took place during the second world war (any war for that matter). It is hard to understand why we still do these things to eachother, why genocide is still tolerated in the world and why we continue hold onto prejudice against another human being, when all we really have is eachother. There is not much more I am able to say about this, as words do not do the moments I experienced justice.

Slowing down

2008-06-21T06:28:00.000-07:00

The weather heated up this morning and at 8:30am the heat in the room felt like we’d slept through the afternoon. The girls spent the day together, including a lovely photographic exhibit at the Museum of Fine Art called Soul and Body, including the works of Mapplethorpe, Kertesz, Bresson, Cunningham, Stieglitz, Cappa, Sherman, y mas.

Afterwards J and I took a swim at Szechenyi baths and walked back to meet O for a little gallery walk through our neighborhood. The city is lovely and there always seems like there is so much to do here. It is a very similar excitement to that of the capitols of Western Europe. Prices for everything imported are very high (and sometimes things are just high for no reason – at the baths a towel rental was 1600forint which is roughly $10) – much higher than in the west and it could be attributed to the deep socialism holding on as the tides shift to a capitalistic economy. I’ve found the most wonderful part of my days is just walking and meeting people I would never meet through my standard introduction “Can I take your picture?” I’ve come across people from the middle east – today I ran into three boys on a student visa from Iran and the other day it was a man on asylum from Iraq, he was glad to help me with my portrait and showed me his Iraqi press pass from the days he was a photographer. Now he works in a small falafel stand under an overpass, isn’t life strange how it can change in an instant. Some people are interested in knowing why I want to take their picture and others are more interested in whom I am and what I am doing here in Budapest.

I’ve found that when want to make work, I begin by collecting, then sorting the collection into what it wants to become. In this case I’m collecting on many levels, portraits, stories, quick finite moments and eventually I will find what is common to all these things or different and need to find out why. I think this is an act of problem creation, which is exciting.

I’ve surrounded myself with faces after getting proofs back from the lab (cost of processing and proofing $130 – 4 rolls 220, 2 rolls 120), the images seem so few from the work that was long and slow going. Shooting with the Yashica has forced me to slow down each time I make the photograph, to wait for the moment and to allow the subject of the photograph to “pause.” It is also interesting to me that this city has been here for so long and the people will be here in this time then gone. The document of the interaction will remain but then the interaction too will fade from memory and eventually the document will be gone as well. Barring any major natural disaster, the city will probably still be here when all those things have passed. I too pause in this instant and it is very much less frenetic than the pace I keep in Los Angeles, it is a luxury to do everything slowly – walk across town (1-2 hours, one way) instead of taking the trolley across town (5 min). It would be so convenient to jump on a bus or a trolley or the subway to arrive quickly at a destination, but then so much is missed. This is a true luxury as at home, even going to the market (that is 2 blocks away) involves getting in the car. So I leave you with the wish that you two are able to slow down today even for a moment.

Gogeh Sabz and other greenery

2008-06-21T05:58:00.000-07:00

Also known as small sour (unripened) green plums. An essential part of springtime, to be eaten cool (or warm) with salt (or without)…I found them on a tree in the middle of the city, I quickly proceeded to gather up a handful and eat them. In other greenery news, guess what the group spotted (in a very busy downtown area) growing a few hundred feet from our apt? Take a look at the picture…incase you’re wondering, I didn’t gobble this up, but it is amusing what one can find when they look.

Meet the Gang

2008-06-19T14:05:00.000-07:00

Last night Jenna arrived, (she and I are sharing a room) and in the morning we all awoke to rain and our orientation with Beata, her daughter, an artist and a horse archer (also named Beata) and the other artists. Although I had done a bit of research on the work of the other artists before I arrived at the residency, I was happy to meet such a down to earth and talented group of people. I’d like to introduce you to each of them and encourage you to go look at their work:

My roomies:
Odette – odetteengland.com (From London, originally from S.Australia)
Jenna – jennaspevack.com (from I heart NY)
The boys:
Andreas: myspace.com/andreaspapanastasiu (London, originally from Greece)
Gregory: gregoryeuclide.com (Minnesota)
Howard: iceboxminnesota.com (Minnesota – born in the same hospital as Bobby Dylan)
Benjamin: benjaminpage.net (Pasadena, California)

Afterwards, when all the clouds were gone and we were “sure” there would be no more rain, I trekked across town (this was a massive walk, if you’re from LA, then imagine walking from Santa Monica and Pacific, then east on any East/West street to where the 101 freeway crosses Sunset – in the rain) to see the Ludwig Museum (and a Simon Starling exhibit). Along the way, there was much picture making, getting caught in a rainstorm (soaked to the bone, no umbrella), and finding a wonderful indoor marketplace full of paprika stands, meats, strudel and embroidered items. At Ludwig I found Gregory and we both (apparently having lost our minds) decided to walk around the Buda side on the return and over the chain bridge. Along the looooonnnnngggg way home, we saw the university, stopped for drinks at the historic Gellert Hotel, saw the castle and enjoyed a brief stop at the uber cool Sofitel hotel on the Pest side. Take a look at some of the sites (see picts).

The two cities and the magic of three little words… “if you like”

2008-06-18T16:03:00.000-07:00

Today (7/17) was a day of walking… and walking… and walking. I had to deal with a bit of a learning curve when adapting to layout of the city and finding everything. In the morning O and I met with Beata (the artist/teacher who runs the residency and the HMC) and she gave us the low-down on what to see and where to go.

Budapest is a city in two parts – the “Buda” side to the west, characterized by more residential areas and green rolling hillsides and the “Pest” side to the east, a bustling city center filled with historic buildings and commerce. The two sides of the city are separated by the Danube and then again re-connected by a series of bridges. Our residency is on the Pest side, very close to the city center. Our Hotel/Apartment is surrounded by internet cafés, supermarkets, shops, museums, and restaurants. Today, I crossed the divide between the two cities via the Erzsebet hid, a wide, white bridge that shook with the velocity of the crossing cars. Because acclimating after a long journey (see “31 hrs” rant) takes a bit of patience, I found myself standing on the Buda side not knowing what to take pictures of, yet wanting to take pictures of both the mundane and the sublime and everything in between.

I had wanted to work on a series of portraits with the Yashica, but wondered how I would bring myself to approach random strangers and ask “Could I take your picture?” (ok, I realize it is strange for me to make this “shy” comment, but refer back to the “31 hour “ entry and the part about not being acclimated) – so I just did it and asked someone “Could I take your picture?” and astonishingly, he said “if you like.” Thus began my amazement with the people and the place, with a simple phrase “if you like.” I spent the rest of the afternoon asking everyone who struck me in some way, either by making eye contact with me for just a bit too long, or someone who was totally unprepared in the midst of their labor so I could capture them without pretense.

To be allowed to take a portrait is altogether precious, there is a sense of vulnerability that is being offered to the camera, and to the photographer. To be allowed so willingly to take portraits of strangers on the streets where I am a stranger, both to the individual and to their country is even more special. For this I am very grateful for this day and the three magic words. The camera allowed me a dialogue into the culture and for a moment into the lives of people I would never ordinarily encounter. Some people inquired further asking where I was from and why I wanted to take their (them in particular) picture. One shopkeeper eating a peach offered me some fruit and a French tourist named Adrian asked if I could email him a copy of the photograph. For today at least, men were much easier to approach, especially men who were not used to being photographed; construction crews, security guards, people talking on their cell phones. The women were a bit more reserved (and perhaps self-aware), but again I found the women who were most a part of the city, rather than being “in” the city were more apt to acquiesce.

Quick Note

2008-06-18T16:02:00.001-07:00

If you ever plan on coming to Hungary, either forget about contact with the outside world, or bring a cell phone with you that can take a sim card. It is impossible to purchase a phone unless you have a permanent address here; this is some sort of regulation. Yes, phone cards are available, but it is only easy to find a phone that will accept these cards when in the city center, once you wander out, you’re on your own. The good news is that internet cafes, although costly ($9USD/hr) are abundant and there are a few that you can find if you purchase a cup of coffee, you can have up to 2 hrs free service each day. Also, if you’re dreaming of white Christmas…I mean…an inexpensive holiday upon your arrival to eastern Europe, if you’re an American…think again. The dollar has depreciated in value so much and the cost of living here is quite high. Here’s a quick photo example: Kodak VC 120 film (160ISO), in LA: $4ish a roll; in Budapest $7ish a roll (and 400 ISO is $8ish a roll).

Some Vocabulary:
Yes: Igan
No: Nem
Thank you: Koszonom
Where is…?: Hol van…?
How are you?: Hogy van? (formal) Hogy vagy? (informal)

31 Hours

2008-06-18T15:48:00.000-07:00

hrs 1-5
- 7am Pacific Standard Time (PST) to LAX
- 9:15am PST 7/15 on plane to Vancouver Int’l
- Although dead tired, the overwhelming stench urine from the toilets and the chattiness of group sitting behind me assisted me in staying awake and participate in “air tourism,” while listening to my happenstance-travel-companions’ discussion about what landmarks we were flying over. - Yosemite (half-dome, Yosemite falls) and Mt. Rainier

hrs 6-12
- 12-something arrive Vancouver Int’l.
Vancouver: 49deg 11.97min N, 123deg 10.9 min W, 7ft above sea level
Thinking of the movie “A River Ran Through It,” one really does run through the International terminal at Vancouver airport. A mixture of the beautiful outdoors and consumer driven duty-free shops, one can loose themselves in the 15 foot wall aquarium, sit by the river, or, relish the view from the windows to a lush green Canadian hill side. Another option for amusement (or stress) is to purchase a small bottle of water and two aa batteries at a cost $18 (Canadian dollars) – this pastime can be referred to as “throwing your money away” …did I mention that the rate is $1.08 US to $1 Canadian Dollar, that is correct, the Canadian currency is higher - next, the Peso.
- Meet and speak w/ couple from England (who have been together 46 years)
- 5:45pm PST on plane to London Heathrow

hrs 13-22
- Meet Gillian and Gavin from Ireland
(near Belfast) spend the whole 9+ hours w/ them (in the airplane)
- 9-ish am (London time – 7/16), Portraits & more airport security stuff and off to the next point of purgatory.
London: 51deg 28.46min N, 0deg 29.4W, 120 ft above sea level

hrs 23-27
- 11-ish am met Michael and Ali at Heathrow as we three sat on the floor in the center of terminal trying to get an internet connection behind a power box. This was certainly not appreciated behavior by the clerks at the upscale boutiques around us.
- 1:45 – Michael and I realize what time it is and I RUN across the terminal to the gate only to be the last one to enter the plane… then and wait – this brings to mind the phrase… “hurry, hurry and wait” –Airforce One was in the airport and half of runways needed to be shut down until the plane took off – so an extra 45 mins in the airplane before takeoff.

hrs 27-31
- 2pm – Sitting down on the plane next to Paul, a professor in Hungary, we had a lovely conversation. He noted that the most intimate conversations can be struck up with the person sitting next to you on an airplane, perhaps because we are aware of the limited nature of our correspondence. If more moments in life were this way, perhaps we’d be able to cut through the entire pretense we have with others and enjoy the depth and finality of the individuals we choose to share our time with. Both Paul and I were game for a personal conversation and were able to share some “secrets.” Is a secret something we hold onto because we’re ashamed? Why do some things have such a charge that we can’t find our way to saying them? I think the best secrets are those that yield something marvelous because of the keeping. Sometimes a secret is only a way to delay gratification of what we really want. Sometimes secrets are things we’re ashamed of or worried will hurt the ones we love. Why then if they could cause harm do we do these things? Perhaps it comes to human desire. Desire overwhelms our perceived habits and stability; desire pushes us to act upon something that must be kept a secret. Eventually the desire will push us either to unhappiness for having to give up the thing that creates the pleasure and or to chaos for having to embrace and publicize the forbidden. There are other secrets as well, the kinds that hurt us and keep us from acting, but eventually, even those secrets rise to the surface. As time treads roughly upon us, these secrets eventually become a quite smile or sadness -- just facts of our lifetimes, no longer imbued with the importance they once had.
- 5:40pm arrive in Budapest. I encountered a customs agent who apparently had his “personality” genes surgically removed. I watched him with the people infront of me in line and he would stare them down even when they’d walk away then fix his gaze on his next unfortunate victim in line.
- 7pm airport minibus service to the “hotel”
(en route) Budapest 47deg 28.3min N; 19deg 6.5min E, 401ft above sea level
- 7:30/8p arrive, get to room, meet Odette (one of the artists here and one of my roommates) and get in a quick walk and dinner in.
Total: 31 hours in transit

Marsupial Moments and Luggage Purgatory

2008-06-15T15:59:00.000-07:00

Sometimes leaving is sad. We think about all we'll miss when we're no longer surrounded by the familiar faces and things, and want to cling onto them like a marsupial safe in its pouch. When I was a child (so I'm told), I often had marsupial moments. New experiences brought about instant pleads to "not go," and yet, once out of the pouch and experiencing distractions and adventures, I was hard-pressed to want to go back in. This morning, walking to the security check-in at LAX I found myself in a marsupial moment (that's "mm" in text language) and before it could fully take hold, it was gone with the unpacking of every electronic gadget and cord in my bag, my 50+ rolls of film and (of course) the cameras ( let us not forget the special experience of shoe x-ray). The emotion and intent of the moment changed so suddenly, all I had time for before the plane took off was to laugh while watching baggage falling off of the carrier's carts from my my window seat view.

If you ever wonder what happpens to lost luggage, I now know it goes into a state of purgatory, no one will see it once it has fallen off from its initial course, and the luggage sometimes can wait twenty or more minutes before it is visible again (that is only if it was "good" luggage). If the luggage was "bad" when it was in the state of luggage purgatory, it remains on the tarmac, ignored by all, driven past many a time, wondering if it will eventually be flattened by an airplane. I believe most luggage today have converted to the "good" ways and there are less and less instances of flattening as punishment.

As I sit typing at the kiosk in the beautiful Vancouver airport, I find myself wondering if my luggage has been naughty or nice.

letting go

2008-06-13T22:55:00.000-07:00

Although the journey is approaching quickly, there is still so much uncertainty. One thing is for sure though, that I am already weary (if not "dying by the side of the road") from planning. A traveler can only plan so much for any journey and then there is the aspect of letting go, throwing your hands in the air and letting the ride take you where it will. Perhaps this is true of all journeys, be they literal or spiritual. Perhaps the road ahead will bring a bit of both.