Immigraniada

Once again, I'm out of superlatives. Even though I've watched this video over and over again it still gives me goose bumps.

And I can't help but quote Eugene on immigration and the freedom to choose one's place in the world, to explore until you feel you're in the right place. After all, as they say, as we're crossing border after border, we realize the difference is none:

It's a video we always wanted to make, because it completes our story. It's very autobiographical, and tells a story about eight people who are all immigrants, who came to pursue something in new york city. That's our biography. But on the other hand, like it coincides with the idealistic belief that people shall always be free to choose the place of their residence. It's an antidote to the politics around the world that have dictated separation and division of communities. Immigration is a crucial part of this idea of world citizenship. In the past, immigration was mostly for economic reasons, or because of natural disaster or war. But now, more and more often it's an intellectual choice, and an important evolutionary process for the planet. More people are committed to being uniters of communities and cultures, to being people who transcend the understanding of different cultures, people who live by the idea that there is no identity but that of a human being.

Dilemmas: autumn/winter collection

I'm just dying to know when did children become accepted in hair salons for normal people?

Hair dying is a complex ritual which requires an appropriate setting, good music, coffee, books and light hearted conversations with other women who understand and appreciate the magic that happens behind closed doors in beauty salons. Yesterday, a screaming three year old with bladder control issues almost ruined my perfect evening. Apparently, children are not big fans of having their hair cut and when their mothers insists on doing so all hell breaks loose. The one thing I will never understand is why parents think that hysterical children who piss themselves and become purple from all the screaming are cute. Luckily, my color turned out great although for a minute I was afraid it might be affected by all the drama.

But this is nothing compared to what I'm about to go through if Polish experts are right. Not children related, still equally annoying. It seems like this year we will be faced with the most severe winter in the last millennium. Winter in Poland is a dreadful experience and I'd be happy to find a way to avoid it even under normal circumstances. Now, with a new ice age lurking on the horizon, the only thing I can think of is a long and well deserved holiday in the sun and the sooner the better. This of course will generate a new time management crisis in the first months of 2011 and I'm already looking forward to it.

I'd be really grateful if, for a long time from now on, winter and children were the only things to complain about.

The end of art

Dangerous footwear

Ever since we saw Carrie Bradshaw chasing Mr. Big all over Manhattan in her Manolos, we seem to have decided it was ok to run in our stilettos. Not ok, especially when there's a bike involved and a red traffic light. Now El Santino is bruised - again! - and I'm traumatized by women in high heels. There are few things worse than a woman wearing her shoes as if they were some medieval instrument of torture, but there's an excuse even for that. No excuse for jumping in front of my bike in the middle of the street, tripping and lying there looking dumb and helpless. I'm a huge fan of heels but I'm seriously beginning to think that the world would be a better place if we all knew just how high is high enough.

It's just not working

I really did my best.

Seems like my relationships with cities have almost the same pattern as my relationships with people. After a while, the butterflies simply won't come back. But instead of enjoying the coziness and serenity that supposedly come along when the butterflies are gone, I find myself in a strange situation: longing for something I don't have anymore, living with the vague memory of how things used to be, incapable of letting go because I hope those feelings will be back or because I'm afraid I won't find something better and in the meantime seeking fun and challenges elsewhere.

I did my best to rediscover Warsaw and see it from a different perspective. Not working. Tried to remember just how much I missed it and how awful it felt being away, back in those days when all I wanted was to live here. Not working either.

My little experiment did help me discover some new artists, a few pubs and the best coffee in the city, but the magic is gone, no doubt about it. And yet Warsaw still feels like home and something tells me I'd have huge regrets if I left it now, so maybe this time I'll try to make an exception and see what happens after the butterflies are gone.