On this Ash Wednesday, whatever people believe or don't believe, the story of Jesus is beautiful: an innocent being willingly sacrifices himself with the intention of saving others, and not only forgives but loves those who treat him cruelly and haven't even asked for forgiveness. 

It doesn't really matter if there was a virgin birth or if someone could walk on water for me to believe that divinity (or human capacity for it) somehow exists. 

To put it in Dostoevsky's words: 
"s'il n'existait pas Dieu il faudrait l'inventer. And true enough, man has invented God. What is so strange and extraordinary is not that God really exists but that such a thought -- the very idea of the necessity of God -- should have occurred to a vicious wild animal like man, for that concept is so holy, so touching, and so wise that is does man too much honor."

(btw, these are all old photos from 2010 when Herr Johann went on his pilgrimage through Israel and Jordan). 

These Dead Sea Scrolls were written in as early as 408 BC

In Isreal where Jesus walked

Outskirts of Bethlehem where Jesus got coffee

 "Hello, babies. Welcome to Earth. It's hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It's round and wet and crowded. At the outside, babies, you've got about a hundred years here. There's only one rule that I know of, babies—God damn it, you've got to be kind." -Kurt Vonnegut 

If Americans like to be happy, and Russians like to suffer, then Austrians like to raunzen.  I was first introduced to this word while an Austrian friend of mine was taking a short trip out of Vienna. He sent me an unrelenting number of text messages: the train was stinky, the beer was awful, the windows were dirty, the lady sitting beside him was unpleasant…
    In response to each text, I offered suggestions for what he could do (eg: open the window, order another drink). Finally he texted (in all caps): ICH WILL JETZT RAUNZEN! (I WANT TO RAUNZEN NOW!)

The point of raunzen was at first incomprehensible to me. Raunzen seemed pointless and a waste of time. The tedious details one offers when speaking about an unpleasant situation ought to be approached as one does a math word problem: isolate the relevant bits that find a solution.
    Since living longer in Vienna, I’ve begun to grasp this concept. I'd become acquainted with the Russian and the Austrian in the famous Café Hawelka. These regulars sat for hours in what is called “their second living room” smoking cigars, drinking terrible coffee, and complaining about the new waiter, the cups, the “bloody” tourists, etc. Yet they’ve frequented this café for over ten years now, to the point where mail will be delivered to them there. Raunzen is a privilege granted to the regulars – it binds them to the café and each other.

   
    This raunzening Austrian I mentioned early was perpetually lagging a few feet behind me one evening while we were taking a walk. When I, annoyed, asked him why he was walking so slowly he responded, “Where are we going?” 
    “Nowhere,” I conceded.
    “Then what’s the rush?”
    “Isn’t is boring?!” was my automatic response.
    Perhaps it’s not happiness that Americans are pursuing, rather boredom that we are running way from. After all, it does seem too obvious to pursue happiness in order to be happy.

In Thomas Mann’s short story Disillusionment, the narrator is asked by a strange man in regards to his trip to Venice, “Does it come up to your expectations? Surpasses them, eh? You did not picture it as finer than the reality? You mean it? You would not say so in order to seem happy and enviable?” He then continues to recount the disillusionments of his life. Regarding his unrequited love he says, “So this is the greatest pain we can suffer. Well, and what then – is that all?” On seeing extravagantly praised works of art, “It is beautiful. And yet – is that all? Is it no more beautiful than that?”
  

Maybe Austrians see the world through rauzen-colored-lenses, preferring its bitterness to the irreversible blandness of disillusionment and disappointment that comes with resolving these raunzen-able situations. Raunzen is an expression of life, how one feels and is touched. When one is against something, he feels his own will. And as long as one raunzens, he is is not alone - if only in connection to the patient listening.

A couple years ago the Europen Union smoking ban was implemented in Austria, prohibiting smoking in Café Hawelka. Some smoking regulars have left to find a new place to set roots and cigar ashes, but many have begrudgingly stayed. After all, with the new smoking-ban they have lots of raunzening to do.

A beggar asked me for a macaron today outside of Pierre Hermé.
Is that normal in Paris? It left me feeling very conflicted...

In other news, I got a new lipstick shade to match my wine ;)

Paris has been a singing siren since we visited for a weekend a
couple years ago, and now we're living here!

French flea market

Thinking Cap

                      Started the day with brunch at the Morgan Library and Museum

my dream library

Permanent collection includes manuscripts of Beethoven, Mozart, Puccini & Verdi

Beethoven's manuscript is riddled with edits and a visibly labored process (left), while Mozart's FIRST DRAFT manuscript below is absolutely pristine. Mozart's genius came with such ease, as if he were just a vessel that the divine flowed through.

Beethoven labored, and still is absolutely of the divine. His compositions move me on levels that Mozart, is its perfection, cannot. It's inspiring, comforting, and encouraging  to see and hear this divinity, arrived at by toil and struggle of humans.

RAWR!!!! SNARL!! SNAP!*U$#(% WELL MAKE A BEETHOVEN OF OUT YOU!!!!!!!!!!!
(Pelle makin' babies cry...teaching them how to toil and struggle)

* * *
There was also a marvellous Proust exhibit!
(maybe this is the workings of Vintuel's Sonata)

After Morgan's we went to Ladurée where Pelle got to ride the carriage in the display...

...get pampered on the counter...

AND GET A NEW RIBBON!!!

He was a little bashful the rest of the day with his pretty blue ribbon...

Hiding behind my Three Naked Ladies cocktail at  Cafe Luxembourg

...and stealing my gooseberries

* * *
The Cathedral of St. John the Divine

One of the most stunning cathedrals I've ever been to.

* * *
At Cafe Sabarsky I really feel transported to Vienna. Even the guests are Viennese. We were there with Julia who we both met at Leopold Hawelka's 100 year birthday celebration at Café Hawelka a couple years ago.

The first time we were at Cafe Sabarsky she said:
"They're all Austrian. I can see the inbreeding in their faces!"

* * *
Self Portrait

...and as always, end with an espresso.

(That's blood, not ketchup) 

After he ate his burger, he ate Pie & Burger

Trump Soho lamb burger (seriously one of the best burgers  ever...even better than the doggie one).

Doggie Bowser Beer & Burger. 
(Dukie trying on his new Thunder Shirt)

The beer tasted awful, but the doggie carrot cake was quite tasty! 

Thanks to this *INCREDIBLE* alarm
clock that just arrived from Russell, the lives of countless roosters that Pelle rips to shreds in the mornings (this is how he hits 'snooze') will be saved.

Thank you, Russell!!! <3!!!