Contradictions

Lately, I've been obsessed with things that are contradictions of themselves. This started when I decided to move to a castle in rural Scotland and found that the things I loved about the place were also the very things that made it so miserable.

Some examples:

- The most exciting thing to happen on most days was the sheep moving fields. 

- You're always wet and muddy. 

- It is so cold in the winter that keeping your fire going is a necessity. Because of that, there is the constant preoccupation with what would burn well.

- Everything you need requires hours of walking.

- It is so wonderfully (and terrifyingly) quiet.

I've since left the castle and moved back to Edinburgh, but I now find myself sitting in a cafe in Berlin. Those who know me well, know that I tend to have a very strong opinion of any city I visit pretty much right away, and Berlin is no exception. 

Berlin is a city rife with contradictions, and it has forced me to look at both my perception of beauty and my previous insistence on things being inherently good or bad. Something I've only just begun to come to terms with is that most things (if not all) are a wonderful mixture of both states. Berlin is beautiful and ugly, stinky and delicious, its decay is turned into art, and (something I absolutely loved about San Francisco) it is hilariously and predictably unpredictable.

In the near(ish) future, I will move here and I know that it will be an important part of my life because it will help me to learn that the combination of good and bad in everything around me is, in itself, a truly beautiful thing.