Art everywhere!

“...but we need books that affect us like a disaster, that grieve us deeply, like the death of someone we loved more than ourselves, like being banished into forests far from everyone, like a suicide. A book must be the axe for the frozen sea within us.” ― Franz Kafka

I adore Kafka. The Kafka Museum here in Prague was one of the best exhibitions that I have ever visited. It was immersive, thought-provoking, and featured a quote about vegetarians by Franz (a vegetarian himself;  "vegetarians have it easy--they consume their own flesh.") The copy of A Hunger Artist that I bought in the shop is gorgeous (and the content is even better than that, because it is also hideous. It begins with trapeze!) I saw the Mucha exhibit yesterday (as you can see below), and that was also excellent... intricate soap boxes galore, advertisements for fairs that are the stuff of dreams, somehow Parisian and not-Parisian, the lines and shades and fonts(!). Afterward, I was inspired to purchase an art nouveau-inspired 1930s vintage piece which may or may not be the size of my entire backpack... whoops? If you need to find me at the train station, I'll be the one in the pale pink ballgown. It's Mucha's fault, really.

I had an interview today with the Southeast Coordinator at the NGO I am working with, and we had a riveting conversation about the situation in Myanmar and development opportunities in Thailand and Cambodia (among other things.) Great way to start a morning.

Completely unrelated: tonight, I tried home-brewed Slivovitz. Yesterday, I had absinthe ice cream. I think that I could sustain a vegetarian diet in Prague just fine?

As you can see, the graffiti in Prague is great. Czech Underground, you have my attention.

Prague's botanical gardens are simultaneously hosting three exhibitions on my three favorite components of gardens: insects (specifically beetles,) cacti and succulents, and carnivorous plants. They were selling shirts that showcase the digestive process of venus fly traps. (This will go excellently with my ballgown.) Seriously, what's not to love about Prague? The other night, I saw a jazz performance in an old mansion with frescoes peeling off of the walls... the double bassist was wearing a spectacular vest and was probably about seventy years old... my friends and I made up 1/4 of the audience. The performers made eye contact with me when they bowed.

This! Dilapidated houses juxtaposed with sculptures from a completely different era. Poseidon probably feels right at home in this weather, too.

You could spend a lifetime in this city and still not see everything.