As I was writing to a friend, being in Vienna is a little like coming home.
I lived here for five months in 1993 but it's been that long.
Some palpable changes and some constants that welcome like a hug.
On the first day, I headed straight to the Naschmarkt where I found the glazed orange slices I was addicted to then. Next my favorite bread - a volkornbrot. Check, both in place.
What I had forgotten about, but recognized immediately as I approached, was the supply store opposite the Technical University where I taught.
Organized in meticulous fashion, triangles with handles (makes lifting them off flat surfaces realistic), luscious sketchbooks of orange and grey, fist size chunks of pure graphite, and something I had been searching to buy for several years, a Caran d'ache drafting lead holder. There it sat in the street window. When I got the attention of a young employee and pointed out what I wanted, she set about moving huge display cases that separated us from the pencil. Naively, I assumed there must be many more, taking that one as simply a model. But no, it seemed that must have been the last one. So when she finally handed it to me, I was visibly forlorn to discover it was a Staedtler, not the Swiss Caran d'ache at all. She never knew, as I bought it anyway. More tools. Walking home, I had no idea I was destined to discover a Caran d'ache expert (borderline fanatic like me), later that day in my friend and former colleague.
No comments:
Post a Comment