Great birthday celebration: Via skype we opened the presents…little creatures fell out in colors of blue yellow and love: along came Ginsberg- Midnight City Junk. A girl with my face was on an imaginary cover of Vanity Fair inside a London special edition of Harper’s Baazar (this girl had written, edited, photographed the entire issue…beautiful and work obsessed she must be..i love her).
Sometimes its trully beautiful to let one know you too well.
Incredibly thoughtful and beautiful presents from the parents, the sister and Pa!….midnight was great
Morning came, there was the awkwardness of it all; its my birthday, now what; it all started on the bus: hug, kisses, tell about midnight…replay; I begged Hanna to take the day from me. Alright, he said…phewx! sorry, its not my birthday, its Hanna’s…
Maia designed me a crown: Its My Birthday Bitch!… I had no idea what writing was on seeing as it had been placed on my head with my eyes and hands folded…. but with all the kisses and faces coming at me through out lunch time, I almost went with Scott’s theory that the text on the ”crown” was: Kiss me for a cookie!
Elena, my roommate, organised a dinner (at our house) to which everybody i know came (GRANDE ELENA!). It is always amazing to watch a living room transform from the most uninteresting place in the world to a high powered entertainment space: filled with probably some of the most amazing twenty something year olds in this dispersed universe.
To watch as the room grows voices, speaking in tongues, dancing, rolling, loving and laughing, serving great food, corners emerging from within straight walls, private sections, smokers zone, none-smoking areas….all this developing out of an originally really small, and honestly boring space with about three pieces of furniture . little miracles!
Valerie and Lawrence had got me a cake from my favourite cafe in the world…the most delicious cake! Pink cream and Brown chocolate; lights off, i blew the candle and Maia had half of it on my face; The game is called, how far across my face can my tongue stretch!
They ask: how old are you?! 23? 24?…..No love, older. Really Old
Then Peiro goes: 30 isnt too far phoebe. Yes Piero, I say, it isnt is it?!…and with that he sings a chorus from the Beatles… “When am sixty four”- yes Peiro, i will still love you when am sixty four.
When the night started to quieten, we lay out a blanket, threw a couple of pillows on the floor, Hanna played (guitar), Josh did a crazysick mime- still not as good as the one at the Poetry Night, and Chris, Christopher did some crazy Blues shite: really good, i would ask him to explore that, but know he wont… Still, venting chants suit his voice (too).
I made tea, we read Ginsberg; Holy Saxophones, Holy keys, Holy me, holy you, holy, holy…Piero read this one. Maia read the one of the dream about Joan Burroughs. Josh read from Walt Whitman (piero and maia got me a Italian/english version)…and I finally did my half-deserted streets; T.S Eliot (this was a printout from the internet- not yet sure on how i feel about him enough to buy a copy. Even when i spend evenings memorising a no. of his verses.)
If there were to be photos, this is some of….
- Piero and Nicolo carrying me on their shoulder(s) dancing to Sia amo Watussi!
- Mauro presenting me my ‘special birthday present’-TWICE!
- Elena and I dancing to i-cant-remember -what, while everybody else sat, uninterested in this music perhaps
- Maia licking most of the cake off of my face…”what the boys cant do i will do baby” (she didnt say this)
- Julian teaching me a made-in-julian’s-head German fest dance
- Julian introducing the Kunt subject to Chris -and then Julian going; phoebe, when you say it, it sounds obscene….
- Gabo standing on my bed fixing the stars to my ceiling, spreading the night sky in my bedroom (Great Gabo!)
- And many many more that are still hazy right now
PS: best tip for the night:
“At a certain point of the night people will get in this
crazy mood where they will eat oranges.”
1:40am; people were eating oranges!