Juli x July

Summer by the river is always like auditioning for a part in an unreleased Tom Sawyer story. Title melody by the long grass that rustles when you walk over it with your bare feet. I heart the South. This is actually my last week here before I go home to Berlin for a two-month internship at Yack Fou Clothing. Also the last week Juli and I have together before she leaves to Leipzig for a half-year internship. Man, these internships really have us in a chokehold. Still, we're making this week our week of summer. Listening to the river whisper when it touches the low branches of the willows. Letting the water slip through my fingers as the boat makes its way up the stream. Kissing away crumbles of Baguette from your lips.

Oh Baby

In Southern towns like this, the weather is stronger than you are. We hardly get any rain. But, as they say, when it rains, it pours. Describing the current situation as rain would be the understatement of the year. Kids are running around in front of my window in their speedos. The water is shooting down main street, arrogantly disregarding the helpless gutters and threatening the sidewalks that are mere islands in the stream. A group of school boys with dripping hair passes the scene in search of shelter, past the small bus station that is already overcrowded with people ducking behind a brightly coloured wall of umbrellas.
The city cleanses itself from the heat of summer. I open the window and let my view drift over the row of small houses across the street. Ranging in colour from New York cheesecake to peach sorbet, their narrow facades seem to have been clinched together to create space for more houses.
In my head, I start checking off the list of things to do. An estimated 37 socks (mixed colours) are having a breakdance party in my washing machine. I hear it rattling and shaking from the bathroom. The first thing I did after I moved here was take out all the doors in the apartment. It gave the rooms a loftier feel. For this past year, the noise from the washer has been the most Sunday-sounding thing I can think of. On Sundays, I miss you twice as much. The bell tower, the smell of crumbs burning in the toaster, the way I aimlessly flip through magazines without a hurry while waiting for my hair to dry after showering. And the goddam washing machine with its monotonous vibrating that fills the air and lets the glassware in the cupboards sing. It all reminds me that this has only been another week in this leap year of Transatlanticism. I like the word. Even though it stands for you and me being separated by one of the largest quantities of water on this planet.
I open iTunes and browse for Transatlanticism. As the opening beat starts echoing through the room, I sink to the floor. Kneeling on the carpet, I let my mind fly off through the window. Down the street, through neighboring backyards. The grey sky has been torn open as if someone really tall bumped into it while stretching. The sun is slowly crawling out from underneath the cloudy blanket. Rays of sunlight flood the valley. It rolls over the hills and vineyards, like a tidal wave. Its image is reflected manifold by billions of freshly fallen raindrops that linger on leaves and bright red roof tiles. After hovering over the town for a minute, trying to make out places that I recognize or people‘s faces that seem familiar, I start my climb. Higher and higher I go, until whole forests blur into stains in different shades of green. Checkered and only delimited by the bent horizon, the landscape opens itself up to my view. I turn my head in the direction I assume I‘ll discover the sparkle of the ocean. Layers of shredded cumulus clouds cross below me.

Friends Don't Let Friends Drown In The Swamps Of Sadness.

Anyway, where was I, the air is so fresh and smells like rain and so on and so forth. Lost in thoughts, I pick up random items on a shelf just to put them onto another. Rembrandt enters the apartment. He‘s got a spare key that he talked me into giving him several months ago. Can you believe that somebody is actually naming their kid Rembrandt? I sure laughed the first time I heard it. Actually, his name bares a good amount of irony. He wouldn‘t be able to prepare Maccaroni and Cheese if the instructions were printed on the box as a cartoon. Which they are. His room is furnished with a sofa consisting of beer crates.
„Know what I thought about doing?“ I turn around towards the door. There he is, jumping on one leg while struggling with unlacing his shoe. The scene makes me smile.
He goes on. „I figured that if I had a lefty day once a week, it would stress my other brain half and make my thinking processes more complex.“
„A lefty day?“
„You know, days where I do everything with my left hand that I would normally do with my right hand. Everyone should do it from time to time.“
„Now where did you pick that up?“
„The guy I worked for today told me about ambidexterity. I guess he is a psycho-physio-something. Did you know the Neanderthalians could write simultaneously with both hands?“
„They didn‘t even have a written language, Rem.“
„Yeah, and I suppose they didn‘t have pencils either.“
I decide to not comment on that.

Stay tuned.

Das hier kommt bald. =) Danke, Lisa und Angie.

Live Well Wallpaper

Das neue Paper Heart Live Well Wallpaper. Anklicken, runterladen, freuen.

BRIGHT/JULI/LUV

Die Streetwear-Industrie ist eine Maschine. Ich selbst bin ohne Budget, ohne Distribution Deal, ohne 5-Sterne-Hotel, ohne Businessclass, dafür aber mit einem Traum namens Paper Heart und fühle mich so inspiriert und aufgeregt in Ausblick auf das kommende Jahr, wie nie zuvor.
Mit Juli und einem Fotorucksack (Danke, Sebi!) war ich an diesem Wochenende in Frankfurt am Main, wo die Bright Tradeshow Summer 2009 stattfand. Ein riesiges Gebäude mit mehr als 4 Stockwerken, alten verschnörkelten Treppengeländern und Fabrik-Loft-Räumen war zur größten deutschen Skate-und Streetwearmesse umgekrempelt worden. Für zwei Tage waren die langen Korridore gefüllt von buntem Treiben, Businessgesprächen, Verkauf, Showrooms, Musik, Kunst und im Innenhof fanden in einem riesigen Skatepark namhafte Contests von Vans, Element und éS statt. Juli und ich haben es genossen, die Pros und Kreativen der Szene zu beobachten und uns im Getümmel zu bewegen. Schöne Farben, schöne Dinge, viel Inspiration und für mich ein Sommerpraktikum bei Yack Fou in Berlin.
Am Ende des zweiten Tages war noch viel Zeit, Frankfurt anzusehen, den ungefähr leckersten Bagel der Welt zu essen und am Main entlangzuschlendern.

Hier sind die Impressionen.

8. Juli 2009

Die Welt schmeckt nach dir. Du fehlst.

T wie Tretboot, Tübingen, Toll...

Bei unglaublichen Sommertemperaturen bin ich gestern mit meiner lieben Freundin Juli und meinem Homeboy Johann auf dem Neckar herumgebootet. Der Neckar ist allerdings bei dem Wetter vergleichbar mit einer Autobahn nach Italien am Anfang der Sommerferien. Aber schön war's:

XOXO BUNDLE

Im Shop auf www.iheartyou.de gibt es ein neues Produkt: Das XOXO BUNDLE wird es nur ein paar Mal geben. Es enthält zwei Hearts Are For Lovers Shirts (Boy/Girl), sowie ein limitiertes Happiness Button Pack. Alles zusammen für einen unglaublichen Preis.

Auf zum Shop!

17.Juli: Paper Heart Shirt Day

Liebe Freunde von Paper Heart. Am 17. Juli ist der erste Paper Heart Shirt Day. Wer mich an diesem Tag in der Stadt von Tübingen trifft und eins der limitierten Hearts Are For Lovers Shirts trägt, gewinnt eins der nur 100 existierenden Happiness Button Packs von Paper Heart Clothing. Also, waschen, bügeln und schonmal schön gefaltet hinlegen für den 17. Juli. Freu mich auf euch.

David

Enno Bunger

Die Jungs von Enno Bunger, meiner norddeutschen Lieblingsband und Mitglieder der Paper Heart Family, sind zur Zeit im Studio mit Oliver Zülch (Juli, Slut, Die Ärzte, Sportfreunde Stiller). Einige Konzerte schieben sie trotzdem zwischendurch noch ein, wie zum Beispiel diesen Samstag (4.Juli) im Backstage in München. Diese Band ist sehr sehenswert. Hier seht ihr ein paar Impressionen von einem Gig im Mai in Brandenburg. Bernd, der Bassist, trägt ein schönes Tshirt. Die anderen beiden machen lustige Gesichter.