Beurgbrennen

So Luxembourg has this festival. Beurgbrennen.

For all intents and purposes it's your standard pagan-holiday-turned-semi-religious-after-Christianity-came-to-Europe kind of holiday. The entire community comes out, lights a big pile of old Christmas trees on fire, and celebrates the 'burning away of winter' and the welcoming of spring.

There's just one little catch. That pile of dried up Christmas trees? It's arranged in the shape of a cross.

Yup, once a year, every Luxembourgish village burns a giant cross.

For Americans this is a little unsettling: that kind of iconography is burned (ha, get it?) into our brains to represent hate. But here? Burning crosses mean only one thing - Beurgbrennen.

Over the weekend I went with Cafe Lux to a small village on the Mosel, and sat on the rocks, drinking beer, watching the end of another winter go up in flames. It felt warm and cozy - and not just because a pile of wood roughly the size of a house was burning five yards away from us. You couldn't help but feel the magic of standing together, with loved ones, watching the passage of time.

Ohio Homecoming 2011

While I'm loving my European adventure, I haven't forgotten about my little city on the lake. Last year, it got a little bit of a bad rap (a certain magazine rated it as the 'most miserable city' in America), but instead of Clevelanders letting that bring them down, they decided to show the world exactly why we weren't miserable. That, in fact, this city has so much to offer and some of the most genuine people in the mid-west.

To quote a fellow Cleveland enthusiast: 'This city is buzzing.'

So, this July, a mere week after I move back to the states, I'll be celebrating Cleveland's birthday with an event called Ohio Homecoming. This video was shot last summer and I get goosebumps every time I watch it - I remember looking out at the crowd, thinking 'miserable? yeah right.'

I have a little project I've been working on that will be in this summer's line up of events (more on that later), and I gotta say, Cleveland rocks.

If you're reading this, from Cleveland, and interested in learning more about Ohio Homecoming, shoot me an email! There are so many fun ways to get involved.

Leuven, Belgium

The city center...

....fresh flowers....

....bricks and bikes...

....moon lit libraries...

...architectural eye candy...

...and inside? It's practically a different world.

"The vital importance of being earnest"

Not too long ago I found myself back in Paris and I figured it was about time to visit some dear friends (morbidly enough) in Pere Lachaise cemetery. There was Chopin, Edith Piaf and dear dear Oscar Wilde.

I don't know many 16 year old girls who would lay on their stomachs, giggling over Mr. Wilde's prose, finding lovesick solace in his wit. But we did, and I figured the least I could do was lay a few blooms on his already very venerated grave.

So thanks Oscar.


The truth is rarely pure and never simple. Modern life would be very tedious if it were either, and modern literature a complete impossibility! - Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Earnest

Obidos, Portugal

Portugal

On this last day of February I find myself wondering where this month went. It certainly took me a lot of places. For a month that holds no expectation, I found myself blissfully surprised by the love and light I found in a month known for the cold and darkness.

Last week I was swept away again, once more to the southern part of the continent and the sunny shores of Portugal.

And, I think I have one picture.

It was one of those weeks where it almost didn't seem possible to capture these fleeting moments on film. I just wanted to absorb everything and let it all soak in - the sun, the colors, the smells, the little flutterings in my heart.

Et alors, adieu fevrier. March, let's see what you've got.

Ole!

A few weeks ago, I found myself in Madrid, tagging along with an art history class as they explored the impressive galleries of the city. Between the Prado and the Reina Sophia, there were long strolls in the sun. The sun!

You see, in Luxembourg, sunshine in February is viewed as a wonderful fluke. Luckily, there have already been a few days where I've opened my eyes to blue skies and sunny weather. First, I'm surprised, then elated, and finally, I realize that I've almost forgotten about the sun. No, not in a 'what's sun?' kind of way, but in a way that I've been living in the gray for far too long that I don't expect sunny days. It's a 'where have you been all my life??' kind of reaction.

And so, Madrid was good for the soul in so many ways. Not only was there sun, but art, deep fried calamari, sangria, flamenco dancers - the list goes on. 

But you know, at the end of the day, it was good to return to Luxembourg as well. Even with its gray skies and rainy disposition, the comfort of being surrounded by languages you understand, an apartment you've made your own and everything that comes with the territory of 'home.' That's pretty good for the soul too.