The healing power of...

It's been a funny old festive period.

With the flatmates all back in their respective hometowns (only Romy is yet to return) I've essentially been in a form of hibernation. The weather here has been unremittingly awful (like what I imagine Scotland to be in winter. Cold enough to essentially force cyclists onto public transport, but not cold enough for lasting snow. Grey skies ubiquitous) so with money precious and life-giving warmth even more so, I made an active decision to stay steadfastly in. No goals, no pretence of self-improvement (my first pretence-of-self-improvement-free period for a very long time), simply staying alive throughout the winter and, hopefully, midly entertained.

So how have I spent my time? Basically in a random, mood-based distribution between the following activities:

1. Reading my Economist double Christmas issue (a subscription was recommended to me by someone whose recommendations are worth something)
2. Making soup and other delicious comestibles
3. Eating the results of 2.
4. Watching illegally downloaded films. In case this sounds like a move in the self-improvement direction, I can reveal that these films have mostly been of the "Dude where's my car?" varietym (I include "Duck Soup" in this same category. Any arguments with that?)
5. Playing piano. I've got an exciting (and expensive) piano teacher. My first ever piano lessons and my first music lessons of any kind since I gave up the clarinet aged about 13. She's Israeli but speaks great English (typically). She's quiet but certain of what she wants. She's marvellously talented. The kind of unassuming talented where you'd think she'd never noticed until you pointed it out. She also has two grand pianos in her flat. Wow. It's a totally new experience having my playing analysed in any way, and I've discovered I'm much more shy than I realised. Shy's not right, but somehow... self-concious? Anyway, I feel like I play about ten times worse when I'm showing her what I can do. Perhaps this is a universal experience.

So, to continue my hibernation analogy, today - first snowdrop roots poking my sleeping form - I stuck my nose out of the burrow to see what was what. And what a good day I've had soothed as I was by the healing power of three of my favourite things:


i. The Healing Power of Art
At long last I decided to make now the moment when I was going to see the big Boticelli exhibition at the grand Städel Museum on the south side of the Main.



I spent a wonderful three hours walking very slowly around some seriously old paintings, listening to my audio guide (English) and generally loving the atmosphere (busy yet hushed) and having a great time. 8 Euro well spent.


ii. The Healing Power of Architecture
Upon exiting the gallery I was confronted by a Frankfurt-at-night from an angle I'd not seen before. I've rarely been south of the Main, and never stood where I was standing at night. The snow was gleaming in the gallery's spotlights and the familiar skyline looked marvellous and brooding from across the river.

Above is my shaky-handed attempt at a panorama and, below, the pretty cool-looking Holbeinsteg (Holbein Footbridge) with attendant Boticelli poster (which is also in every U-Bahn station and generally all over town.


Rather beautiful I think.


iii. The Healing power of cold hard cash
I got a reply today from a professor of mine to an application I sent off in 2009 (imagine!) expressing interest in becoming his research assistant type thingy. It's a very, very popular option here in the German further education system. Every professor has around 3 students assisting them, doing tutorials, boring bits of research and generally putting in a few hours a week in the cause of knowledge. The pay seems to be great, the hours are designed to fit around a student schedule. All in all, it's the dream ticket for anyone with enough of a grasp of what's going on in lectures to have ten hours a week or so to spare.

The application was very late in being submitted (my heart sank when I got his Christmas out-of-office reply in response to it. I thought it was all over) and also slightly non-standard. Rather than the standard blah blah cover letter, I decided to write a kind of FAQ. A set of questions I though anyone who didn't know me and got my application would ask. Things like: why are you so old for a 1st year? What happened to IT? Why economics? etc.

Turns out, he really liked this approach, and I'm going for interview next Monday!

If you're reading this, I assume you're some kind of well-wisher. If indeed you are, please cross your fingers for me. This could be the first major event of my new career in Economics....

Till next time,
Rob