WRITINGSPERSONAL ARCHIVES
Writing — Personal Essays
A collection of personal notes exploring memory, identity, nature, hyperfixations, and the small observations that shape the way I see myself and the world around me.
Have you ever wondered what colour your aura is? My friend Ju told me I have a green aura, green like an apple. 🍏
I had always imagined myself more blue like Rosalía. Blue because of deep water, the sea. I always imagined nostalgia and melancholy as blue, and I think of myself that way too: ultramarine blue. Maybe that is why I keep thinking about Vermeer, about the way he used lapis lazuli blue to paint something so ordinary: a servant in a domestic interior, doing a completely ordinary task, pouring milk. Somehow, the blue makes the scene feel almost solemn, almost monumental. As if even the most banal things could contain something meaningful.
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It had been a long time since I cried on a Sunday. I woke up without the sea again and realised I could never live in a city without water. Berlin has a river but I’ve never fully loved this city. Sometimes I wish I could paint everything aquamarine. Put a water filter over the whole world and see everything through that softness. During the holidays I read Agua Viva by Clarice Lispector and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the title. About water as something alive, something that refuses to stay still. Something living. Something fluid. And that’s what my brain makes with me, it creates swirls and changes shape the moment I try to hold it. Maybe that’s what I’ve always wanted from writing. Feeling understood.
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On my birthday, I looked at the candles and wished they were the long, thin ones from the Greek churches.
I found myself drawn to the votive candles there. Alex brought one back for me, but it broke on the way home. I wonder if people ask the same things of both, at their birthday cakes and to their god. Do they make a wish? Think of someone? Or is it simply an offering?
I don’t really know. I suppose I’m an atheist.
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