the paper bicycle

Autumn!

2011-11-07T06:03:00.001-08:00

Taken at Stockerstrasse

Lake in November 4

2011-11-07T03:33:00.001-08:00

Taken at Bellevueplatz

Lake in November 3

2011-11-07T03:32:00.001-08:00

Taken at Bellevueplatz

Lake in November

2011-11-07T03:31:00.001-08:00

Taken at Bellevueplatz

Lake in November

2011-11-07T03:30:00.001-08:00

Taken at Bellevueplatz

Seestrasse 2

2011-11-07T03:29:00.001-08:00

Taken at Mystery Zurich

Seestrasse

2011-11-07T03:28:00.001-08:00

Taken at Mystery Zurich

find your way

2011-10-25T01:23:00.001-07:00

whether it be through forests and streams with expensive mountain bootys on or swimming a half a mile to a sand bar in The Bahamas: find your way.

if it is at sea saving dolphins or on a ferry off Boston watching whales named after led Zepplin band members: find your way

if it is on a train to Bonholm or on a 16 k run the moment you arive: find your way

if it is in the embrace of a woman you know you should pay more attention to becaue she means no harm: find your way

in a library in Munich. In a record store in Burton. in a ythrift shop in Miami: find your way.

I stood on a couch and watched Kiss play underneath the Brooklyn Bridge one year. My way was not then or there.

I drank half my salary for a decade and destroyed every relationship I had (bar 1) and my way was not there or then.

I burned down forests of ideas to keep hold of 3 that made my reputation but exhausetd my ability to listen and found that my way was neither there or then.

I broke my own heart. I won my own war. I lost my own battles. I drank some more and still my way was neithere there or then.

So, where was it? Where I left it of course. Out in the rain, covered oin mud, surprisingly nowhjere nearly as rusted as you would expect; my way was left behind on a cold day in 1982, just after it snowed. I let someone beat me at the imagination gameand as a result, I never actually sp[oke the way I thought again.

I rediscovered it out of necessity as my greatest idea whithered and threatened death. I had no choice but to breathe the life of only a 12 year old can muster into it. I fed it Iron Man and Red Robin stories. I fed it Alan Parker and Ridley Scott. I fed it The Face. I nurtured it with ~Xanadu.

It came back. i was saved. I found my way. You should too.

Find your way

Up to here

2011-10-10T12:25:00.001-07:00

Look closer

2011-09-24T03:16:00.001-07:00

Taken at Zurich

Look closer

2011-09-24T03:13:00.001-07:00

Taken at LX2032 to Madrid

Over the mountain

2011-09-24T03:11:00.001-07:00

Taken at Himmel in Zurich

Sweet

2011-09-20T13:28:00.001-07:00

Taken at Nelson Pub

The White is televisions

2011-09-18T09:51:00.001-07:00

Taken at Nelson Pub

Football fans

2011-09-18T09:50:00.001-07:00

Taken at Nelson Pub

A favourite

2011-09-18T01:45:00.001-07:00

Taken at Paris

Yes, it means what you think

2011-09-18T01:44:00.001-07:00

Taken at Ironic Paris

A significant red

2011-09-18T01:42:00.001-07:00

Taken at Paris

Chocolate Mousse packaging

2011-09-18T01:41:00.001-07:00

Taken at Paris

London last Tuesday

2011-09-18T01:40:00.001-07:00

Taken at British Library

For @caycep

2011-09-18T01:38:00.001-07:00

Taken at London

British Library SCI FI exhibit

2011-09-18T01:36:00.001-07:00

Taken at London

Clear blue birthday skies

2011-09-16T12:21:00.003-07:00

Taken at Romerhof

Lovely day at Le Pain Quotidien

2011-09-16T12:21:00.001-07:00

Taken at Römerhof

You climb this to see the view

2011-09-16T12:19:00.003-07:00

Taken at Adlisberg

My birthday crossroads

2011-09-16T12:19:00.001-07:00

Taken at Aldisberg

Oh what a perfect (birth) day!

2011-09-16T12:18:00.001-07:00

Birthday memory

2011-09-16T12:17:00.001-07:00

Taken at Haslerstrasse

Oh what a birthday surprise!

2011-09-16T12:16:00.001-07:00

Taken at Haslerstrasse

Paris

2011-09-12T23:57:00.001-07:00

The 9th

2011-09-10T01:36:00.001-07:00

p210.mov Watch on Posterous

A view that heals

The 9th

2011-09-10T01:35:00.001-07:00

p210.mov Watch on Posterous

A view that heals

Tomorrow is the 9th

2011-09-08T10:30:00.001-07:00

It all began in 1995 actually. That is the worst part of the story.

Something terrible and sad happened within the 72 hours across September 9th to 11th of 1995 and of course we (closest friends) were already upset. Of course by midnight on the 11th 10 years ago, nothing could make this weekend right.

A quick piece of context: what I am about to describe is what defines me.

I worked at Chase. It was a lively place with super humans working there. One was named Ken.

He traded options for Tony and went to Michigan. He taught me stuff and we got along just fine and eventually had a Thursday to Saturday binge that involved a cast of hundreds, a work day in between and the thing that made my reputation at the bank ( a trade).

It was a Thursday. It was in September. It was 1994. We were bored to death.

We decided to simply go out. Everyone could come. No cliques. No desks. Brokers were human. Life was too good. Kim came out.

Recently heartbroken and stuck in sales, it was her birthday and she was accordingly coaxed. That was it. The world came.

In New York, pockets full of cash, we hit the usual places. Then the unusual. We met people. Laughed. Played pool for hours. Danced. Sang. Generally caused a ruckus.

Then it was late. Then it was early. We went back to work. Drank coffee. Ordered breakfast. Ordered lunch. The Market moved. Chris nudged me in a theory I had. Ken confirmed my suspicions. The trade went off without a hitch. At this point, 12pm, no one had slept.

Then we went out again. Ken came. Kim came. Everyone came. It was glorious fun. Innocent silly drinking by perpetually single 20 something's with cash and time.

It ended at sunrise on a Saturday over bagels with Steve.

Flash forward a year later. A year to the day and Ken was hit by a cab outside of the same bar we had closed and opened a year before.

Darkness ensued. I was in London. Billy called and told me everything. I went to NY. He had been in the coma for weeks. Kim had not stopped crying. Her birthday ruined with the haunted feeling that at that stage, with everything changed, everything had changed again.

You see, a year later it was another tribe of young Turks roaming NY and opening and closing bars in between shifts in the trenches of The Money Wars.

We were all promoted and responsible and unable to imagine anything but work.

Tomorrow is the 9th. 16 years later and I still hear his voice in fuzzy dreams mixed with memories. He taught me so much. I stood over his bed at Columbia and wept. Years later the update was that his family had moved him to a home in Connecticut. He had the mental age of a 6 year old.

As for Kim: that is why I will write tomorrow. I actually loved everything about her. Especially the fact that she couldn't stand the fact that anyone loved her. We hurt each other so badly that we eventually had to part ways. I have not seen her since. Since what?

Stay tuned

Tomorrow is the 9th

2011-09-08T10:29:00.001-07:00