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I wish my psyche were a little less contrary. I was looking forward to an (entirely obligation-free, for once) day off, but felt... not so much actually depressed, but emotional, sad-to-tears, and on the whole rather unenthusiastic and lack-lustre. Must be the mixture of a sunny day with promises of spring, stirring up all kinds of spring-time emotions, and the fact that I'm still wearing my thick winter coat and scarf (and gloves, once the sun disappears). Snow is melting in the sun, but puddles immediately begin to freeze over in the evening.


Went to see the Xenia Hauser exhibition, which left me € 9.- poorer but generally unmoved. I'd seen some of her pictures in magazines and thought they were interesting, and the paintings at least were nice to look at (the overpainted photographs seemed a little slapdash), but little else; I couldn't connect at all. It's like I kept sliding off some colourful, aesthetizised surface that allowed no deeper access, although perhaps only to me... quite the reverse of my reaction to the Louise Bourgeois exhibition, where I probably didn't 'understand' anything, and I'm not sure if 'like' actually describes my reaction adequately, but where I felt (or imagined to feel) a connection to the idea behind, regardless...


Walked back home with a few detours, snapped some photographs, very unenthusiastic and uninspired. Sometimes I love this city, today I felt like a stranger, like a tourist, not someone who has lived here all her life. Wanting to be gone, mostly.

Again, no connection. Perhaps it was me who was disconnected today.

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It does begin to look a little like spring, even if the weather-forecast predicts more snow-showers to come...