There are many good reasons to no longer write lengthy
blogposts.
For one, they are not 15secs videos, so where’s the fun for
the scrolling audience? Two, there’s a
war going on in Europe. Three, there are famines threatening in the world. Four, this planet needs to be saved from
climate change. Five, I’ve more pressing private issues to deal with.
But then again, there’s no harm either in blogging & meandering
melancholy musings.
And, right now, instead of dissecting the many perils of the
human condition, I feel the strange need to count my blessings – and to evoke some
unexpected gifts of harmony.
“la vie ne fait
pas de cadeaux “ : very true indeed! And
yet, these lovely purple flowers just popped up like that, one morning, spreading
their joyous colour & smell all over
the small and not particularly well tended front-garden of our building.
“Rien sans peine” : definitely! But I was just absentmindedly browsing the shelves in the music section of my beloved second hand bookshop Pêle-Mêle, when, without any merit, I stumbled upon two books – each in their way perfect to deepen the insights of a devout albeit unschooled classical music lover. A small pocket book in perfect condition by Aaron Copland (indeed, the composer!) : “What to Listen for in Music”. And a beautifully edited art book about “Flemish Polyphony” by Ignace Bossuyt.
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3) An impromptu cello-concerto in the museum garden – by a future winner of the Queen Elisabeth competition
"There’s no such thing as a free lunch” : undoubtedly! And yet. It was a sultry Sunday summer
afternoon in June last year and we had gone for a stroll in the rose gardens of the Museum van Buuren. A woman asked whether we wanted to attend a cello-recital,
for free? It was given by a young German-Korean cellist, who was exploring some
of the historical surroundings of this music- loving queen who gave her name to
an eminent musical competition. Hayoung Choi’s playing was dazzling. And on a Sunday
morning one year later, scrolling through the news on my phone, I could nod
with smug satisfaction: the rose-garden cellist won the 1st prize of
the Queen Elisabeth competition.
4. 4) “Incident at Saint Guidon” and an unforeseen city
walk
The plan was to efficiently insert a medical examination in
the midst of the day, with a well-timed metro trip up and down to the hospital,
all without causing so much as a ripple in my work performance. Well, that didn’t go according to plan – on the
way back, after only 10 minutes, the metro halted and all travellers were
kindly requested to leave the train: because of an incident at the St Guidon station
all metro- traffic was stopped.
Above the ground people scurried around in all directions,
trying to board overflowing buses or hailing already occupied taxis. Right.
But, that’s when a Flâneur gets going.
Sunny, sweltering hot streets, a
walk of about 1.5hours to get back to work. It’s an unexpected gift to just walk and walk, along the busy Chaussée de
Mons, alongside an unexpectedly peaceful park with children playing, crossing a
pittoresque square with a church, slaloming though groups of boys hanging
around in Kureghem, traversing the canal, walking past illegal workers
gathering behind the Southstation, dodging frantic shoppers at the Place Louise,
overtaking strolling dandy’s with nifty dogs along the Toison d’or, speeding up
a little, and yes there’s the office building.
5. 5) Youthful energy in the metro at 7.10AM
“metro-boulot-dodo” – not an uplifting prospect, now that for
3 weeks I have to join the daily commuters to get my treatment in a hospital at
the edge of Brussels. Most people in the
metro are rather subdued at this early hour. Looking around I see rows of people
uniformly bent over their smartphones. Others are dozing off, like that young slender
man, carefully dressed (with red shoes, red
belt and red shirt) snuggling up ever tighter in his corner. The school-going youth though, bristles with
energy. When a girl spots a friend in the next car, she grins & phones : “look around you!!” , laughing out loud when the
friends turns around , surprised. The friend comes over, and until the final metro-stop
they sit side by side, grinning & chatting & beaming & oh so happy
about their unexpected encounter.
6. 6) Greeted by a friendly face at the Erasmus-metro
exit
When Ieaving the metro at the ‘Erasmus’ station, apprehensive
about the first of 15 radiotherapy –sessions, there is a familiar face that greets
me amidst the crowd of commuters. On a bill-board there is Vivian Maier,
intently gazing in her lens, happily capturing
her reflection in a mirroring surface, hair unruly, behind her a non-descript
building and dappled summer light through tree-leaves - a joyous reflected self-portrait. As un-connected & isolated as she may
have been – here she is, so many years later, on another continent – on bill-boards announcing an exhibition of her photos.
