horse
happy new year everyone. thanks for reading! new: there is now a place on the blog where snapshots put. no more photo-dump posts. that aside a little note on my new year’s eve:
31st of december. around two o’clock in the afternoon i step into my favourite cafe in the area. i take a seat. the very old owner puts a wet towel and a cup of cold water in front of me. i order coffee, hot. next to me two girls are hunched over their laptops, hammering away at the keyboards. by the time i decide to order the thawed cake and have smoked three cigarettes, they seem to take a break. one of them, emma, asks if i can recommend the cheesecake. sure thing — but don’t expect too much. freya just wants a second fork. we start chatting. what, when, why, etc. both of them are architecture students from london on a field trip to japan. these are their last two days in town and they need to finish an essay. wait a second…
architects! i cannot get away from them. they appear everywhere i go. at home in weimar i lived together with them. in japan i somehow got into working at an architecture studio. now i am bumping into these people in my free time. my free time! they are everywhere, these house-thinkers.
frea has lived close by for some time before moving to england — that’s how they found this cafe. we talk about how buildings here are crushed and rebuilt instead of renovated, whether we plan to go to the temple tomorrow, and how the soba noodles for lunch were. by the way, there’s going to be a new year’s party at a different cafe tonight. it’s a good place, owned by an australian. great. i don’t have anything planned — not counting “strolling around town.”
around eight-thirty i make my way to the cafe. inside it’s busy, and outside there’s a little ticket stand. emma and frea haven’t arrived yet. as i pay my entry fee, the australian comes bursting out through the cafe entrance. tall and lanky, with a cap, beard, and round glasses. (the notepads flow out of the metal ring holding the glasses. very elegant — my eyes continue to notice throughout the evening.)
“first time?” “amazing! thank you for coming!” “you live in the area?” “how did you find this place?” he asks all this while shaking my hand. i haven’t answered half the questions when he bows down a little, looking me in the eyes over the top of his glasses: “what is it you do in life?” a good question. i’m thinking about this a little too much lately, i say to myself, and give a situational answer. “well, i’m an art student.” “you paint?” “hm. yes. i draw.” “amazing. please draw a horse. you know, it’s the year of the horse coming up. right here on the guest list.” he hands me a ballpoint pen. i struggle a little but manage the shape of a horse’s head, neck, and body. no use explaining that my course of study is more conceptual than old-master-painting-classical. i draw the animal’s legs very long and thin, filling the page and creating a small surprise. dalí-esque, one might say. i would call it approachable.
“great, perfect, perfect. now let’s come inside, please.” the australian with the nice glasses and very energetic attitude guides me inside. as we enter, he raises his voice and introduces me to everyone: “minasan! everybody, welcome — a great painter!” to me: “where are you from?” “germany.” to all: “great painter from germany!”
i order a coffee to stay awake and sit down to calm down after my thirty seconds of fame. too soon — the australian, who just raced outside to greet the next guest, comes right back with a piece of cardboard and a marker. “another horse, please.” “sure, no problem.” i start to accept my destiny. “luv you, man, luv you! amazing!” the second horse is a little more horse-shaped, its legs appearing and disappearing in front of and behind the numbers of the new year. after the cardboard is decorated, the australian comes in again to show it to everyone and demand praise for the newly drawn horse.
my cafe latte arrives, the foam forming a swan. i can’t help but laugh at the situation i’ve gotten myself into.
it’s suddenly very easy to talk to anyone in the room. people strike up small talk just standing around: “you painted that horse?” what a conversation starter. i’m telling someone how i ended up here when frea and emma arrive. we spend the rest of the time until midnight talking. five minutes before the hour (the year), everyone gathers inside for the collective countdown. 5 4 3 2 1 horse!
the first hour of the year passes. the three of us are standing outside having a smoke when the australian calls everyone back in. “minasan! everyone inside please — new year’s speech. the painter is going to give a speech.” a joke, i think, as we enter. he thanks everyone briefly, then hands off to the head of the coffee staff. i’m relieved — she’s giving the speech. many thanks and wishes are given to the guests and customers.
then, the australian’s joke turns out not to be a joke. he introduces me again — painter, first-timer, etc. — asks someone next to me to translate, and then gives me the floor. i obviously didn’t prepare anything, so i describe my day.
“today i met two amazing people at a different cafe not far from here. they told me about this new year’s party, and for lack of a better idea i decided to join. when i arrived, i was forced to draw a horse.”
“are you sure i should translate?” i smile and nod.
“i’m very grateful for being forced to draw that horse. because of it, i met a lot of interesting and kind people, and i got to celebrate the new year with them. thank you for welcoming me. i wish everyone a great year. anyone else want to say something?”