Walking down the stairs in the University Library, stressed about upcoming deadlines, I glanced up and saw the Academy Building bathed in warm sunlight. Though I’ve seen it countless times, this time it made me realize how often I look down rather than up—and how little I notice the beauty of the city I live in.
It wasn’t just a fleeting thought. My new course, ‘The Beautiful in Film,’ almost inevitably made me acknowledge my surroundings differently and interrogate the concept of beauty and how to notice it. And since beauty is subjective, I couldn’t answer these questions alone and once again started asking around.
A lot of people told me that Groningen’s beauty and cuteness struck them upon their first arrival. But once they started studying and their minds were busy with new curriculums, schedules, and friendships, the beauty slipped away. The seasonal change and the gloomy weather also didn’t contribute to its appreciation. Who cares about beauty when the wind throws you off the bike, the rain feels more like a permanent figure than a guest, and the hints of seasonal depression together with a sprinkle of deadline stress start to kick in, right?
In those moments beauty seems the farthest from our minds. But what if noticing the beauty of and in the city where we are staying for a long while would make it easier to get through the rough months, and maybe even help with the stressful periods? Of course, it does require our active participation in noticing it, but it’s truly all around us here, in any season.
What if noticing the beauty of and in the city would make it easier to get through the rough months?
To some, this beauty could be more external, with Groningen’s homogeneous architecture and its gingerbread or doll-like houses, tidy streets with well-kept nature incorporated in the city, frequent canals and the sunset reflecting in them, or youthful and stylish inhabitants.
To others, the beauty of Groningen is rather internal, where it manifests itself through a feeling of a vibrant student city that you get if walking past Poelestraat, peaceful serene moments that are reminiscent of a calm village where stars are visible at night and the air is fresh and clear, or a successful combination of all kinds of inhabitants from young to old, from working to studying, from traditional to alternative.
So now, I give myself a daily challenge to spot something beautiful—whether it’s Folkingestraat in the rain or someone’s cozy dinner peeking through a window. My sense of beauty sharpened, unwinding between classes became easier, and my melancholic autumn mood slightly improved. In busy times, beauty can be a remedy, but for it to work, it needs to be noticed frequently. And when I forget about that, I simply look up and rediscover the beauty of and in Groningen.
LIZA KOLOMIIETS