The Matador

I have to admit, I was always peculiar about Bullfighting, but never really interested in it until I started reading The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway. I have never seen a real bullfight in person, nor have I ever met a real Matador. To me, bullfighting was a beautiful yet dying art, that people this day and age didn't really care to understand.

Hemingway was an aficionado of bullfighting; he believed a real Matador was one of the bravest forms of human beings. To him, bullfighting was an art, a passion, a sensual and religious experience. He believed it was the purest form of living, the line between life and death so fine, a mere centimetres between the flesh of a person and the deathly horns of a bull. To him, the Matador was an artist, a performer. The way he moved in the bull ring was supposed to be pure and smooth, flowing around the bull rather than twisting to avoid it. Hemingway said 'Bullfighting is the only art in which the artist is in danger of death and in which the degree of brilliance in the performance is left to the fighter's honour.'

The more I read Hemingway's book, the more intrigued I became with this lost art form. So I took it upon myself to research bullfighting some more, to find out for myself why this man, whom many considered to be the man of men, was so infatuated with it. I read some articles, watched some clips, and researched Matadors like Sebastian Castella (who was gored twice by bulls), Juan Belmonte (considered by many to be the father of modern bullfighting), and Manolete (who was played by Adrien Brody in the 2006 Hollywood film A Matador's Mistress). The more clips I watched, the more I started to understand what Hemingway and the other aficionados (what bullfighting enthusiasts were called) described. Bullfighters were artists who crafted masterpieces through their courage and honor, their appreciation of competition and their celebration of death. Spanish culture, unlike the French and the English which 'lived for life', strived for an honorable death and celebrated it. I think a true Matador has to embrace this belief in death and engrave it into his soul when he takes up the arena against his worthy opponent, the Bull.

I will certainly try to look into Bullfighting some more, maybe even try to see a fight or two. But for now, I leave you with this beautiful clip Scott Schuman, aka The Sartorialist (a huge inspiration of mine), made about Bullfighters. Video Here.

Passion over Logic

If you don't already know, I'm an avid fan of motorcycles. Specifically cafe racers, vintage bikes, and naked sports bikes. I bought my first motorcycle 3 years ago, a 1987 Honda Rebel. My rebel, whom I called Liz, survived 2.5 years of city riding, some country escapes, 2 freezing winters, a couple of drops, one accident and a hurricane. It finally met its end when it decided to take on a street cleaning truck. The outcome wasn't pretty, my Liz was beyond repair.

Eager to get back on the horse ( well, bike actually), I went to the Ducati dealership in Soho, and instantly fell in love with a black 2013 Ducati Monster. Needless to say, I had to have it. 30min later, I walked out with with a few signed papers, a set of new keys, and a smile on my face.

Motorcycles are sexy. Ducatis are sexier.
 

Gorgeous Black Ducati Sport 1000

If you're a motorcycle enthusiast, you might be fidgeting in your seat screaming something about German and Japanese. I relate this argument to ones made about Hondas and BMWs being better than Alfa Romeos (to you Americans, Alfa Romeo is an Italian car manufacturer). Yes, if you want a practical, reasonable car, then you are better off with a Honda, Toyota, or Mercedes Benz. Similarly, if you want a logical, reliable motorcycle, then you should absolutely consider a BMW, Honda or Yamaha. If you want a car or motorcycle that will start every morning, not break down or explode, and get you to your destination every time, then you should certainly steer clear of Ducatis, Triumphs, Alfa Romeos and Jaguars (pre-Ford and pre-Tata).




Red 2012 Triumph Thruxton

But if you're like me and don't want your car to be reasonable and practical; if you're like me and don't want your motorcycle to be comfortable and reliable; if you want your vehicle to be unpredictable, to be illogical, to be imperfect, then German and Japanese are just too safe, too bland, too inhuman. In this digital and cost-effective age, where unpredictability and personal touch have gone out the window, one needs a little bit of passion, a little bit of a human touch. Cars and motorcycles are among those things for me, and I'm sure other people have their own interpretation of what they want some personal touch in. 

Classic Jaguar E-Type

These cars and motorcycles are built in a rudimentary and primitive fashion compared to today's standards, often built mostly or partly by hand. With this method of construction, every maker and designer develops a personal connection with what they're making, adding their own touch to make every piece they build unique. They add character. They add passion. This is what makes these cars special and give them a place in my heart, not the fact that they are illogical. But the fact that they were built with love and care, hoping the next owner will see them the same way their builders did.

I don't care that those cars and motorcycles might not start in the morning. I don't mind that I may only get to my destination 3 out of 10 times. But I do know, that the 3 times I will get there, boy will I have a smile on my face.

Shades of Brown

I love this video/advertisement campaign by Johnston Murphy, because it reminds me that we're in the Fall season, when the trees of central park turn all shades of brown and yellow, and people have this bright look on their faces because Fall brings a cooler side to New York, which makes everyone innately warmer on the inside and to their fellow New Yorkers. It also reminds us that the two of the three biggest holiday seasons are coming up, thanksgiving and Christmas, and, I don't know about you, but that puts a big fat smile on my face. Find the Video here

The 20 Mistakes You Don’t Want To Make In Your 20s

I recently came across this article and thought it would be interesting to share with you. Although the article is very career oriented and less 'enjoying life' focused, I still think it makes some good arguments we could all learn a thing or two from.

http://elitedaily.com/life/the-20-mistakes-you-dont-want-to-make-in-your-20s/

Why the idea of Coffee Shops is dead

The image of New York coffee shops, painted in movies, books and stories, is one of cultural meeting points, where the young, beautiful and intellectual, converge to exchange conversation, ideas, and eventually phone numbers. Now unless you live in the 'Friends' universe (and look like Joey), you will be sorely disappointed as you walk into the coffee shops of New York, to find that in fact, the young and beautiful do not reside here. In reality, their first shock would be finding out that the place is populated by people on their laptops, their heads buried in their screens, with the aura of 'please leave me alone' floating around them. Their second shock would be seeing the random homeless guy sitting on one of the tables, talking to what appears to his reflection, much like how Golem from Lord of the Rings would.

Sitting in this west village cafe, next to my apartment, as I write this blog post, I see this cute blonde (Blond? Blonde? I don't know the difference) sit next to me. She has a very pretty face with fine features, a few freckles scattered around her nose. The kind of girl you would want to be sitting next to a fireplace with, nursing a hot cup of cider on a cold winter day. Normally, in other circumstances, say a bar, or restaurant, I would go up, talk to this girl, make her laugh using my nice bag of jokes (always handy), and then take her number. But looking at her now, with her white headphones on, and her pre-occupation with her laptop screen, she would probably welcome me less than a New Yorker welcomes mice into his apartment. So why come to the coffee shop, you ask? Surely she must be longing for some good intellectual conversation from a handsome stranger.

But the truth is my friends, the day and age of meeting and befriending strangers in coffee shops has long gone. People are more likely to trust a complete stranger they met on an Internet dating site whom they've never seen, rather than get to know a fellow coffee shop dweller. As sad as that is, it's true. Men and women, alike, are now too pre-occupied with shaping their online and outward image, through Facebook, twitter, and blogs (oh deary me!), spending their 'offline' time doing things they can use for their 'online' time. Going to the park solely for the purpose of saying that they are at the park, or similarly going to a party, to say they are at the party. 

In truth, good spontaneous conversation is no more. Getting to know someone without any prior knowledge about them or their history is done for. Coffee shops are now just harborers of free wifi seekers, of coffee drinkers and Facebook updaters. Or in my case, a blogger sad about the blonde girl next to him.

Bienvenue a la joie de vivre

I cannot think of a proper way to introduce this blog, and pop my 'social-media blogging' cherry. I could give a paragraph-long shpeel about the several cities I've lived in, my insatiable curiosity for the new and exciting, or my love for vintage sports cars and motorcycles. I could mention my love of clothes, of personal style, of good craftsmanship. I could even mention my upbringing in a war-torn country which has forever shaped my unsympathetic and cold demeanor. I could have started this foolish escapade of mine into online blogging with any one of those informative yet boring facts about myself. However, I would rather let my future posts speak for themselves, hopefully forming an image of myself that corresponds correctly with who I really am, giving you an insight into my views, thoughts and musings.

So without further adieu, I introduce to you, my blog.