Living in the City

The city, in my case, being Prague, Czech Republic. I was born in Prague, but until I was a teenager, I didn't spend much time in the center. Although full of history, back then the center was a rather gray area with many crumbling buildings and sad looking shops.

As a kid, I lived on the outskirts in a modern apartment and spent my weekends and holidays at the summerhouse. It wasn't until I got together with my friend Daniel and subsequently my boyfriends, that I started to hang out downtown. By then, it was on its way to become one world's most splendid areas, the entire downtown being a UNESCO heritage site. When I met my ex-pat friends, my understanding of Prague shifted again, suddenly I saw it from their perspective. I learned to really appreciate it. I still remember the feeling when Anthony Tognazzini showed me the cubist lamp behind the Bata building on Wenceslas square - how could I not know about it? Well, I didn't.

Among the Garbage and the Flowers

My experience of that time is best expressed through the poetic lyrics of Leonard Cohen's Suzanne:

Now Suzanne takes your hand
And she leads you to the river
She is wearing rags and feathers
From Salvation Army counters
And the sun pours down like honey
On our lady of the harbour
And she shows you where to look
Among the garbage and the flowers
There are heroes in the seaweed
There are children in the morning
They are leaning out for love
And they will lean that way forever
While Suzanne holds the mirror ...

I've had many such "Suzannes" in my life, usually male, though. But they did show me where to look among the garbage and the flowers. My husband, with his keen eye of a designer, being the best guide to date. But my special thanks for this also go to Daniel Kupsovsky, Jakub Sommer, Eric Gelehrter, Shelton Walsmith, Richard Giles, Ken Nash, Joseph Morris (now that I think of it, they are all visually oriented artists) and many other friends who would walk around and point out the things one must look at, to discover beauty. They held the mirror both to me and to this city as it was transforming after the revolution.

The Return

Our return to Prague after 10 years in the mountains was involuntary and if it wasn't for circumstances, we'd probably still be shoveling snow and chopping wood. But once here, I realized I'm able to appreciate this city much more than I did before. There is the convenience factor. If I forget to buy onions, all I have to do is walk downstairs and there is a place open until 11 p.m. that will save my cooking endevor. Easy. Most city dwellers assume it will be there, consider it natural. It's not, it's very very special when everything is at your fingertips. Of course, I jumped into all the activities that were difficult in the mountains - yoga classes, swimming, movies, theatre ... but they felt differently than before. They felt like an added benefit.

What I brought back from the mountains was integrity, some deep set understanding that there are as many trees out there in the forest as there are people in the crowded streets of Prague. An understanding, that my urban landscape is not all that there is, that it's just a human construct, not the real thing. In the village, nature is the reference point - the weather, the harvest, the firewood... you are forced to deal with them and they are real. They haven't really changed in eons. In the city, people and things made by people (architecture, traffic, parks) are the reference point. City people get very excited about being with other people or enjoying what other people did (culture, sports, social occassions). These things are subject to changes and fashion fads. They are not a solid foundation on which to build your understanding of yourself. Like a display in the shop window, they tend to change on you.

I quickly realized that while I now really enjoy the convenience and beauty of the city, I still keep the reference point of nature. What used to be buildings with some green grass between is now grass with some buildings in between. I find myself paying close attention to seasons, to weather, to plants in the park ... they became my landscape and within them, they hold the places, people and events I'm involved with. And I'm grateful for them. Having been away from it all, I now appreciate the beauty of the city, my friends, culture and the amentites in a way I did not expect. I love being back.

Photo: View from my studio in 2010 by Martin Kamen