nordic solitude diary - angel talk

In recent years, there’s been much talk about disenchantment. While questioning excessive consumerism is worthwhile, I’d hate to see myself lose the ability to sense allure or mystery in the world. (Weber, of course, was already worried about this in the last century.) If the world seems disenchanted, perhaps it’s partly because enchantment is the product of a particular kind of attention we give to it-a kind of attention we’ve grown accustomed to neglecting. As a result, the world begins to feel increasingly dull. - Ordinary things take on a romantic quality when observed with true attentiveness.
Romance, perhaps, is the surprise of discovering beauty or charm in the mundane-the fleeting thrill of life’s train being jolted off its usual tracks by some unexpected pebble. Sometimes, I wish those small tremors could linger a bit longer.
I spent all of Sunday at home preparing for a dinner gathering. I marinated meat, mixed sauces, and crafted dipping condiments. Two friends, whom I’ve known for nearly 15 years, came over for Korean barbecue-they insisted, no negotiation. It was a tradition from years ago, before I moved to London when we would gather every summer on the tiny balcony of my old apartment, grilling on a tabletop setup with a gas canister inserted, all while drawing curious glances from my neighbours.
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