This year was going to be the year I finally would experience a real Japanese hanami. I would look at the cherry blossom (or sakura) forecast, and book a trip to Kyoto to view them at their finest. I would buy a delicious bento boxful of food, a bottle of sparkling wine, and sit under the cherry trees, letting the petals slowly cover me in rosy white fluffy joy.
That dream remains a dream, thanks to the covid-19 outbreak. Next year I will not have the flexibility to just up and go at a moment’s notice – but I plan to plan ahead. Apparently, even if it sweeps through Kyoto in just one week, sakura season in Japan lasts for an entire month. One just needs to catch it where it is at its best.
Thankfully, Copenhagen also has two cherry tree parks, at Bispebjerg cemetery and Langelinie, that give acute relief to the longing for spring in Japan.
(Copenhagen, Denmark; April 2020)
Monthly Archives: July 2020
Two little mermaids
Did you know there are two little mermaids in Copenhagen? One is the much-beloved statue of Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tale heroine, the little mermaid who fell in love and chose to go through much pain to attain a human soul, just to be with a prince who barely even noticed or cared about her as a person. (If you’re only aware of Walt Disney’s Little Mermaid, please do yourself a favor and read the much more layered original story!)
The second one is part of a larger installation called the Genetically Modified Paradise. This mermaid is also called The Genetically Modified Mermaid and she was placed on the other side of the quay, further down in a residential area, in 2006. It is supposed to be humorous, although I have not quite understood whether the artist intended to show humor, sarcasm, or grief.
But I like the genetically modified mermaid. Especially her droopy breasts and big feet. Compared to the strict beauty norms of today, such “imperfections” seem friendly.
(Copenhagen, Denmark; April 2020)
Corona-walks in Copenhagen
Partial lockdown started March 11th. All schools, kindergartens, and universities moved to virtual classes. Most shops and services closed, including all body-working services such as hair salons, masseuses, and fitness centers. My work continued as before, with the difference that I could no longer travel to Belgium to our regional headquarters, or do all the cross-European country local board meetings I had planned. 
Instead I squeezed in daily walks or runs, just to get outside. When lockdown was imposed, the sun came out. It shone from a cloudless sky most of two months. Weekend walks turned into long ambles, thirstily seeking fringes of green across the sprawling city center. Copenhagen parks are not natural oases to get lost in. But they are reviving, and after a dark cold winter, really any trees and green grass are reviving.
(Copenhagen, Denmark; April 2020)
Older, but better
Lovely ones, it’s been a different spring and summer for all of us. All my sabbatical year plans flew out through the window: going back to San Sebastián to study Spanish in January, visiting friends in the US midwest in February, and finally walking underneath cherry trees in Kyoto in April.
Instead, in February I dove into a new work project. In March I freaked out about the job market post-coronavirus, and doubled down on career planning and job searching.
And in late March I turned forty. Forty years old. It certainly felt historic, considering the circumstances. When I think back of my 30th birthday, never in a million years would I have imagined celebrating it in a global pandemic lockdown, and in Denmark of all places.
That day I closed the door on an unexpected and difficult decade, which threw the components of my life in the air more than once. I find myself collecting books about aging, and planning a 360-health check at a private clinic once travel is possible: metabolism, hormones, epigenetics and biological age; and the whole nine yards. Oddly, floating in the middle of global and personal uncertainty it feels like a new start.
Also, there were gorgeous flowers, and a fantastic flødebolle-picnic by the lakes. I’m lucky.
(Copenhagen, Denmark; March 2020)
This blue marble 