Last Saturday, for the first time in months I managed to get to the cinema to see the over-acclaimed Avatar... And though I usually choose not to go with the herd, this time I went against my principles and I practically let myself be dragged into the cinema.
Well I've got 2 words for that night: no regrets! Avatar is definitely one of the best movies so far. The plot itself is quite interesting especially as it puts forth certain issues we should all think about- racism, the fight for freedom and rights, as well as the people's predatory characteristics, or to better put it, -locusts- how I "like" to call ourselves. It s amazing to see how after so many years of treading upon the Earth, humans still feel like it is their birth right to use everything they come across, to use, take and destroy. So here we are some time in the future on another planet-Pandora- diminishing their resources just like we did with our planet, killing everyone while "purchasing" those goods.... Why? You know that part of another film I used to like- Matilda- where her father says something like: "I'm big, you're small, I'm smart, you're stupid!"....well we have something similar here. We have the locals who are definitely some "savages", primitives and ignorant of everything that's important (especially the value of money), and then on the other side we have the saviors- the Americans- who are cultured people, appreciating art, technology, science and all modern commodities. You can see who was the big/ small, smart/ stupid. Of course the film attacks all this racial and predatory behavior, praising the rather simple, close to nature people. I can definitely see why this film might have "offended " certain circles- political, economical- advocating progress and evolution at any costs.
Yet, probably an even better part of the film is sustained by the imagery used- the stuff involved in making the film went miles beyond anything done before in terms of special effects, imagination and visual beauty. I am talking here about the kind of beauty that lifts your spirit, makes you closer to perfection. It's not the beauty you live now and then pass by, but the one that leaves traces into memory...The memory of some future events we might never get the chance to live...
Monday, February 8, 2010
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Just burning midnight oil
Elbert Green Hubbard once said that the recipe for perpetual ignorance is to be satisfied with your opinions and content with your knowledge. Without any particular reason these words somehow sunk into my mind- it is simple and yet so right in so many ways.
We so many times fall into this trap, especially nowadays when everybody has an opinion about everything. We are bombed every day by the others' ideas, we in our turn voice our thoughts about things around, about the people we know, or not, about the universe, about that tone, or that look...And the trap is, while doing that we always forget to lend our ears to the others. We no longer read either, as that would definitely be just a waste of time. Why read? I know things... Well we definitely know more that before, but maybe we owe this to just having better antennae than people used to before. Why do I say that? well, simply because now we just pick things from around. We don't even realize they are not our own thoughts. We just find them there- in our heads- one day and of course in our pride we voice them loud. People have to hear them, after all they are genial ideas-they are ours, right?
You are going to say where is the problem? we still lend our ears and open our minds to the multitude of ideas out there, that must be a good thing, right? Not as long as we keep thinking those ideas were ours first. The trap is we just might end up being too content about "our knowledge" (which was never ours, in fact), or satisfied with our opinions (again not ours)...So the danger is we start living a lie, we are not only less smart and intelligent at the end of the day, but we are much prouder about ourselves, thus in fact diminishing our chances for true advancement and enlightment.
So my advise for you would be- go out there, take a book, dust it a bit and then plunge into its pages. You might be surprised. Then go hunting for ideas, but do it consciously and don't take credit for what's not yours. And you'll see how better man you will become by the end of that day!
We so many times fall into this trap, especially nowadays when everybody has an opinion about everything. We are bombed every day by the others' ideas, we in our turn voice our thoughts about things around, about the people we know, or not, about the universe, about that tone, or that look...And the trap is, while doing that we always forget to lend our ears to the others. We no longer read either, as that would definitely be just a waste of time. Why read? I know things... Well we definitely know more that before, but maybe we owe this to just having better antennae than people used to before. Why do I say that? well, simply because now we just pick things from around. We don't even realize they are not our own thoughts. We just find them there- in our heads- one day and of course in our pride we voice them loud. People have to hear them, after all they are genial ideas-they are ours, right?
You are going to say where is the problem? we still lend our ears and open our minds to the multitude of ideas out there, that must be a good thing, right? Not as long as we keep thinking those ideas were ours first. The trap is we just might end up being too content about "our knowledge" (which was never ours, in fact), or satisfied with our opinions (again not ours)...So the danger is we start living a lie, we are not only less smart and intelligent at the end of the day, but we are much prouder about ourselves, thus in fact diminishing our chances for true advancement and enlightment.
So my advise for you would be- go out there, take a book, dust it a bit and then plunge into its pages. You might be surprised. Then go hunting for ideas, but do it consciously and don't take credit for what's not yours. And you'll see how better man you will become by the end of that day!
"The God Game"
I might have been called many names so far, but never a child believing in Santa... That sounds strange but I think it is actually a nice name, even though it was definitely meant in a derogatory tone. So what can I tell the person calling me that, but THANKS, man! I prefer being considered a child (What is wrong about being a child in mind and heart?). As for the part with me- the child- believing in Santa....what is so wrong about believing in something good, in hope, in being given something good in return for my good done to someone else...
Of course all this was but a metaphor for those- "silly and naive"- who believe in God!!!! After all just a fairytale character meant to lead the weak and stupid into a certain direction.... As for religion, well that's another fairytale, not only there to lead most of the Earth's people into the direction wanted-just like one would lead thoughtless sheep- but also responsible for genocide... You can imagine my surprise to read these words...I mean, through time there have been so many things said upon the subject that I don't see how anyone could say anything without the risk of repeating themselves; these paths are so often trodden upon that I am still surprise to see people getting heated upon the topic. I am still trying to see the originality of their words, that would somehow justify their effort..but like that, just supporting an idea with some clumsy arguments, an idea that not only is not true, but also offensive in so many ways to so many people.... that is indeed strange...
The way I see it anyone is entitled to their opinion- whether is believing in God, or choosing science and material- but I guess either way, it shouldn't be a matter of pride, wearing this (dis)belief like a badge of courage or something...Faith, or non faith should be a personal matter, not something you cry out to the world while beating your chest... It is not just a game where the opponents keep saying: mine is better!!!!
God is there!!! And if you wanna call me a naive and stupid child for that, go ahead. I prefer being that, rather than an "all- knowing and understanding Adult"....
Of course all this was but a metaphor for those- "silly and naive"- who believe in God!!!! After all just a fairytale character meant to lead the weak and stupid into a certain direction.... As for religion, well that's another fairytale, not only there to lead most of the Earth's people into the direction wanted-just like one would lead thoughtless sheep- but also responsible for genocide... You can imagine my surprise to read these words...I mean, through time there have been so many things said upon the subject that I don't see how anyone could say anything without the risk of repeating themselves; these paths are so often trodden upon that I am still surprise to see people getting heated upon the topic. I am still trying to see the originality of their words, that would somehow justify their effort..but like that, just supporting an idea with some clumsy arguments, an idea that not only is not true, but also offensive in so many ways to so many people.... that is indeed strange...
The way I see it anyone is entitled to their opinion- whether is believing in God, or choosing science and material- but I guess either way, it shouldn't be a matter of pride, wearing this (dis)belief like a badge of courage or something...Faith, or non faith should be a personal matter, not something you cry out to the world while beating your chest... It is not just a game where the opponents keep saying: mine is better!!!!
God is there!!! And if you wanna call me a naive and stupid child for that, go ahead. I prefer being that, rather than an "all- knowing and understanding Adult"....
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Realities of the same soul
It is more than clear this freezing we are experiencing can be very depressing for many, not only depressing but also an obstacle people have to try and avoid or overpass every time they leave the house. Work has ended up seeming even less pleasant than the usual daily chores, as for walking in the park or on your favourite paths, well those seem dreams put aside in a special box to be opened later in the year.
The only thing pushing people ahead are visual thoughts of warmth and fireplace, a cup of burning hot tea, the hug of the loved one, and why not even an oozing melting chocolate cake. And maybe to get into the atmosphere one sees in the American movies, people might see in their mind's eye candles as well and to complete the image some minds would go as far as to see flowers.
Indeed it is the peak of winter, and yet, thanks to the commercialized world we live in, we don't see it but when we "crawl" or "slide " outside... in the comfy atmosphere of our homes, we live in an oasis of virtual summer if we want to. We have beach movies with tropical islands and dreams, we have beautiful curvacious women wearing swimming suits, or even ice-cream, if we feel like it. And everything gets to us through the magic of the screens, and of the cards...we have finally conquered winter and cold, even though we keep complaining about them. I guess that is how we are moulded - to complain even though or especially when our life goes for the better.
Anyway, talking about being bombed by images meant to mould our mentalities, visions and aspirations here are some glimpses of those visual thoughts...
The only thing pushing people ahead are visual thoughts of warmth and fireplace, a cup of burning hot tea, the hug of the loved one, and why not even an oozing melting chocolate cake. And maybe to get into the atmosphere one sees in the American movies, people might see in their mind's eye candles as well and to complete the image some minds would go as far as to see flowers.
Indeed it is the peak of winter, and yet, thanks to the commercialized world we live in, we don't see it but when we "crawl" or "slide " outside... in the comfy atmosphere of our homes, we live in an oasis of virtual summer if we want to. We have beach movies with tropical islands and dreams, we have beautiful curvacious women wearing swimming suits, or even ice-cream, if we feel like it. And everything gets to us through the magic of the screens, and of the cards...we have finally conquered winter and cold, even though we keep complaining about them. I guess that is how we are moulded - to complain even though or especially when our life goes for the better.
Anyway, talking about being bombed by images meant to mould our mentalities, visions and aspirations here are some glimpses of those visual thoughts...
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Thursday, December 17, 2009
a fost odata ca niciodata...
Nu stiu daca e din cauza ca este la moda sau doar pentru ca de ceva vreme gandul la revolutie nu imi da pace, insa iata-ma si pe mine cernind aici cateva randuri despre acel an. Si ca premiera si posibil unica data, iata ca aceste randuri sunt in romaneste. Cam ciudat sa scrii in engleza despre o amarata de revolutie din decembrie '89 din Romania.
In primul rand revolutia a fost un soc pentru oamenii pe vremea aceea. Oamenii erau in acea stare de resemnare in care parca toate lucrurile erau asa cum erau si nimic nu se putea face sa le schimbi. Desi nimanui nu i placea starea de lucruri existenta, oamenii nu stiau ce e speranta, si isi traiau zilele una dupa alta in aceeasi fel- unii lingusindu-si superiorii, altii ascultand clandestin Europa Libera printre bruiajele interminabile, sau glumind pe seama unui american, unui rus si unui roman. Aceleasi personaje ale unui numar interminabil de bancuri, in care in mod uimitor, romanul era intotdeauna castigator prin inventivitate, umor, spirit practic. Si in aceasta stare de lucruri revolutia nu a fost ceva ce putea fi prevazut....
Stiu ca ascultam anumite posturi din strainatate care zilnic aduceau in casele oamenilor vesti despre Timisoara si ce se intampla acolo cu zile inainte sa cuprinda intreaga tara. Si cam atat, insa nimeni nu vorbea despre asta sau s-ar fi gandit ca acele evenimente aveau sa duca la revolutie.
Si mai stiu ca in acea zi de decembrie, cand Ceausescu a fugit, printre ecuatii si cozonac, am pornit radioul- si am auzit... La inceput am crezut ca sigur nu are ce sa fie decat teatru radiofonic, ceea ce se spunea era prea nemaiauzit, si vocile erau prea panicate, aproape dramatice, avand acea exagerare specifica actorilor de teatru...
Si apoi timpul a stat in loc- oamenii de la tara s-au adunat care pe unde au putut- la putinii vecini ce aveau cate un tv, porcii au ramas taiati in mijlocul curtii (sper ca unii au scapat cu viata), cozonacii nepusi in cuptor. Si bineinteles romanu ce se afla departe de pericolul orasului si al gloantelor, s-a pornit pe sarbatorit- s-a adus vinul si rachiul si cozonacii copti nu au mai asteptat Craciunul.
Apoi au urmat zile pline de contradictii: tragea armata, ba nu, minciuna! Nu era armata; se tragea in orasul cutare, si apele fusesera otravite, si alte si alte zvonuri menite sa ajute gogoasa sa creasca. Si a crescut timp de 20 de ani....
Cm atat s-a impregnat in mintea unui copil de 14 ani- un fragment de teatru radiofonic, Ceausescu venit din strainatate tinand un discurs tremurat si huiduit, si multe multe desene animate- uimire, incantare de copil la urmarirea desenelor animate timp de ore intregi, pentru prima data in viata lui. Acum dupa ani, a mai ramas gustul amar al gogoasei, si intrebarea: cat va mai dura pana sa faca poc...din nou?
In primul rand revolutia a fost un soc pentru oamenii pe vremea aceea. Oamenii erau in acea stare de resemnare in care parca toate lucrurile erau asa cum erau si nimic nu se putea face sa le schimbi. Desi nimanui nu i placea starea de lucruri existenta, oamenii nu stiau ce e speranta, si isi traiau zilele una dupa alta in aceeasi fel- unii lingusindu-si superiorii, altii ascultand clandestin Europa Libera printre bruiajele interminabile, sau glumind pe seama unui american, unui rus si unui roman. Aceleasi personaje ale unui numar interminabil de bancuri, in care in mod uimitor, romanul era intotdeauna castigator prin inventivitate, umor, spirit practic. Si in aceasta stare de lucruri revolutia nu a fost ceva ce putea fi prevazut....
Stiu ca ascultam anumite posturi din strainatate care zilnic aduceau in casele oamenilor vesti despre Timisoara si ce se intampla acolo cu zile inainte sa cuprinda intreaga tara. Si cam atat, insa nimeni nu vorbea despre asta sau s-ar fi gandit ca acele evenimente aveau sa duca la revolutie.
Si mai stiu ca in acea zi de decembrie, cand Ceausescu a fugit, printre ecuatii si cozonac, am pornit radioul- si am auzit... La inceput am crezut ca sigur nu are ce sa fie decat teatru radiofonic, ceea ce se spunea era prea nemaiauzit, si vocile erau prea panicate, aproape dramatice, avand acea exagerare specifica actorilor de teatru...
Si apoi timpul a stat in loc- oamenii de la tara s-au adunat care pe unde au putut- la putinii vecini ce aveau cate un tv, porcii au ramas taiati in mijlocul curtii (sper ca unii au scapat cu viata), cozonacii nepusi in cuptor. Si bineinteles romanu ce se afla departe de pericolul orasului si al gloantelor, s-a pornit pe sarbatorit- s-a adus vinul si rachiul si cozonacii copti nu au mai asteptat Craciunul.
Apoi au urmat zile pline de contradictii: tragea armata, ba nu, minciuna! Nu era armata; se tragea in orasul cutare, si apele fusesera otravite, si alte si alte zvonuri menite sa ajute gogoasa sa creasca. Si a crescut timp de 20 de ani....
Cm atat s-a impregnat in mintea unui copil de 14 ani- un fragment de teatru radiofonic, Ceausescu venit din strainatate tinand un discurs tremurat si huiduit, si multe multe desene animate- uimire, incantare de copil la urmarirea desenelor animate timp de ore intregi, pentru prima data in viata lui. Acum dupa ani, a mai ramas gustul amar al gogoasei, si intrebarea: cat va mai dura pana sa faca poc...din nou?
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Even though winter is here and Christmas and the New Year are on their way, their spirit seems gone, or maybe not yet come. It might be the missing snow, or it might as well be the missing of dear persons. Definitely a year marked by the loss of two dear people to me- a loss that not even the lights and carols that come along with winter holidays can make up for. I know the only thing keeping me going on is, ironically the realization that there is always room for worse. So, in spite of the loss and mourning, going on and appreciating what I've got seems the only logical thing to do.
Yet, hoping that this "holidays" will bring more hope and news of life and goodness, and light into the heart, I welcome them as before- with carols, fragrance of snow in the air and the hope for a better year to come.
Yet, hoping that this "holidays" will bring more hope and news of life and goodness, and light into the heart, I welcome them as before- with carols, fragrance of snow in the air and the hope for a better year to come.
Monday, November 30, 2009
modern means of transport
What's safer these days? is it a four legged transportation, a winged one, a wheeled one? Favourites anyone.....?
Sunday, November 29, 2009
life angles
Different life perspectives.... when talking about life one should not only think about what's in store for us, what awaits on the path of our life, but also, and this is quite important, the person's perception of their life. In other words, no matter what kind of life we might be given that life in the end gets the meaning and the appearance we give it.
Some of us might be tempted to paint life as a painter's palette- full of colors, tints and shades- thus holding the promise of a beautiful painting in the end. Full of optimism, this category of people will live life as a beautiful and lively painting, and even though problems might be on the way, they will survive and even become stronger.
Yet there is the other category where life is almost seen like through a broken glass/ window. Thus the beauty of life is not shown to them- it is there in front of their eyes, but they will always fails to see it, as their eyes are covered with the broken shattered glass.
Which perspective would you choose?
Some of us might be tempted to paint life as a painter's palette- full of colors, tints and shades- thus holding the promise of a beautiful painting in the end. Full of optimism, this category of people will live life as a beautiful and lively painting, and even though problems might be on the way, they will survive and even become stronger.
Yet there is the other category where life is almost seen like through a broken glass/ window. Thus the beauty of life is not shown to them- it is there in front of their eyes, but they will always fails to see it, as their eyes are covered with the broken shattered glass.
Which perspective would you choose?
Sunday, November 22, 2009
no farewells
i really wish i could freeze time or if not i wish this all would have been a nightmare- long, painful almost incredibly unbearable, but a nightmare...still, my leaden heart tells me otherwise... a dearest friend has gone to different realms- I'm sure better ones.I try really hard to be happy for him- he had a beautiful life,and now an even more beautiful one, yet i'm sad for me and for all those who loved and cared about him, and i'm quite angry about my memory, which i know will betray me in time, leaving me with but faible puzzles of him. yet, in spite of maybe forgetting some peices of the puzzle, the most important ones- your essence- who you are for those around you- will remain there forever, you will keep being my best friend- laughing, supportive, confident and full of dreams, open, kind and loving.You'll always be lively, yet not alive.
May God and angels open the gates of heaven for you, Coco!
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Thursday, October 1, 2009
tales from the golden age
I read the other day an interview with Cristian Mungiu. He was talking about his latest film entitled " Tales from the Golden Age"- a very well selected collection of so called urban legends... It brings back a whole bunch of memories...
going to school/ work on Saturdays, the power being cut off leaving us with, well...telling tales in the dark...Then there was the illegal and always "dangerous" listening on certain radios (Free Europe, VOA, BBC) followed the next day by my reporting everything to a friend of mine on the way to and from school. Then there were the days the grocer's next to the school got such delicacies as oranges, certain chocolate, cherries or even meat or certain salami. Those were the days! We were let or even sent sometimes by teachers to queue and get our little present for the day...of course this was not a daily habit, and in spite of what a normal person might think nowadays about a queue as being sth annoying and tiresome, well in time people would learn to live with queues. They became part of their life, it was the daily and ever-present activity of the long summer afternoons. And what stories and jokes people would tell then. I miss the humour people had those days- it was their only lifeboat- ...
And then there were the cartoons - "Mihaela" and the news on the "telejurnal"- snapshots of the president and his genius wife visiting places, campaigns for saving electricity, and some feeble glimpses into the world abroad. There was ABBA and Albano and Romina Power, and Jeniffer Rush, and there was Casablanca and Rebecca.
And since Cristian mentioned certain urban legends...well I couldn't overlook some of my own, right? The planes, sometimes crossing our bluest sky, were the Americans coming to rescue us... people were always watched and there was someone there that knew last night you ate pork and listened to forbidden radios... A real Big Brother watching us with his scrutinizing eyes.
I guess those days are long gone, yet leaving behind deep traces into people's lives, into their mentalities. We still have our urban legends, I'd dare say less charmant and less rich in meaning than those before... And with risk of being contradicted (that is in case someone would lay their eyes upon these lines), I would go as far and say that before the inner life was deeper- people used to live more profoundly and more complex, and maybe more silently. Now it's all becoming too surface like, glowy but shallow...it's like living in a plastic world, with almost no direction, purpose, with no emotional urge... we just exist....... Please contradict me :)
going to school/ work on Saturdays, the power being cut off leaving us with, well...telling tales in the dark...Then there was the illegal and always "dangerous" listening on certain radios (Free Europe, VOA, BBC) followed the next day by my reporting everything to a friend of mine on the way to and from school. Then there were the days the grocer's next to the school got such delicacies as oranges, certain chocolate, cherries or even meat or certain salami. Those were the days! We were let or even sent sometimes by teachers to queue and get our little present for the day...of course this was not a daily habit, and in spite of what a normal person might think nowadays about a queue as being sth annoying and tiresome, well in time people would learn to live with queues. They became part of their life, it was the daily and ever-present activity of the long summer afternoons. And what stories and jokes people would tell then. I miss the humour people had those days- it was their only lifeboat- ...
And then there were the cartoons - "Mihaela" and the news on the "telejurnal"- snapshots of the president and his genius wife visiting places, campaigns for saving electricity, and some feeble glimpses into the world abroad. There was ABBA and Albano and Romina Power, and Jeniffer Rush, and there was Casablanca and Rebecca.
And since Cristian mentioned certain urban legends...well I couldn't overlook some of my own, right? The planes, sometimes crossing our bluest sky, were the Americans coming to rescue us... people were always watched and there was someone there that knew last night you ate pork and listened to forbidden radios... A real Big Brother watching us with his scrutinizing eyes.
I guess those days are long gone, yet leaving behind deep traces into people's lives, into their mentalities. We still have our urban legends, I'd dare say less charmant and less rich in meaning than those before... And with risk of being contradicted (that is in case someone would lay their eyes upon these lines), I would go as far and say that before the inner life was deeper- people used to live more profoundly and more complex, and maybe more silently. Now it's all becoming too surface like, glowy but shallow...it's like living in a plastic world, with almost no direction, purpose, with no emotional urge... we just exist....... Please contradict me :)
Monday, September 21, 2009
Monday, September 7, 2009
summer wine
Time never seems to fly faster than when we want it to stop...it is like it obstinates to do its will, against ours. And the faster it flies, the drunker we get- with feelings, sensations, all senses being entwined in our mind's realm of souvenirs... And yet, or exactly because of this drunkness at the end of summer the sweet-sour taste of wine is all there is, plus probably a scrapbook of visual captures of past moments....
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Monday, May 18, 2009
spring travels
From the tavel diaries of a..... bee,....? The spring has just settled in for a couple of weeks only...yet the urge to unveil new realms set me off. So one day i took me and myself plus my "friendly" rucksack - that friendly and close and "dear" to me that it actually cost me quite a lot, plus it kinda stuck on my back, heavy and never easy to forget about. No worries I might leave it behind without actually starting to fly :)
My tired feet guided me to the house of the sky- its deep blue taking my thoughts back to Bretagne.... Outside the fragrance of jasmin both took my breath away and made me drunk with beauty- it was like a heavily flavoured wine that gets to your head entangling your thoughts in the interwined, mysterious paths of the mind...
The feeling was amazing, almost extatic... both outside, thanks to the perfume of the jasmin, and inside where a warm and hospitable and welcoming bed was waiting....at its sight my eyes felt unbearably heavy ....I laid down and .....
There followed entire days I spent crossing some mountains- the fresh air as well as the amazing sights were breathtaking...But no matter how much one might indulge in the pleasures of discovering this country, of uncovering its richness and marvels, fatigue settles in and after a while, as any traveller would do I tried to find some shelter for the night to come. This brought me to this place full of awkwardly different but beautiful houses... Could this be a village? If so, why were all houses so different? What could that tell me about this people? But as fatigue was becoming my master I left these questions unanswered for the night.
At the horizon, the mountains I have just crossed were looking melancholy towards me...their tears were falling down their face- heavy and white...
but i left their sight behind, turning my eyes towards what captured me from the start-a very beautifully carved gate and a beautiful wooden building. I don't really know what it serves for, but it has a tall tower heading for the warm and perfumed sky of the evening....
My tired feet guided me to the house of the sky- its deep blue taking my thoughts back to Bretagne.... Outside the fragrance of jasmin both took my breath away and made me drunk with beauty- it was like a heavily flavoured wine that gets to your head entangling your thoughts in the interwined, mysterious paths of the mind...
The feeling was amazing, almost extatic... both outside, thanks to the perfume of the jasmin, and inside where a warm and hospitable and welcoming bed was waiting....at its sight my eyes felt unbearably heavy ....I laid down and .....
Friday, May 8, 2009
temoignes...
Les gens souvent passent sans me regarder, sans nous regarder - moi et mon enfant... et ils se croient tous seul dans ce petit univers qui est ma rue...ils ne savent jamais que mon regard est pour eux.
Je les suivis de mes yeux, dechiffrent leurs sentiments- la malice, la fureur, la joie, la surprise...sur leur visage, dans les yeux ou bien, dans leur voix...
Des que je suis venue ici j'ai vu bien de choses- certaines sont incroyables, d'autres tristes, et d'autres (bien nombreuses), pleines de l'esperance de la jeunesse.
Le fait c'est qu'ils se croient seuls- ils parlent, rirent, des fois, ils pleurent meme, et je suis leur temoigne. Un temoigne muet et invisible, comme l'air, comme la brise qu'a peine apercoit...
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Every little cobble....
A friend of mine said once that every person has a story to unveil.... True! I'd go as far as to say that everything around has a story. Stories are not just a human characteristic- every little stone, or every leaf has its story. There is a story in the wind, in the silence surrounding us at night, there is a story in the roots and branches of trees, in the fragrance of flowers in spring... We fail to see their story many times. Whispered, sung, or just uttered- they rarely get to us, not because they'd lack essence or import, but rather that we lack the knowledge and patience to listen to their story, to watch their story....
Here is a glimpse into a possible story- imagination and peace will fill the rest of the puzzle...
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Easter
Just wishing a very Happy Easter and Joyeuses Paques for those who celebrate Easter this Sunday! May you enjoy the beloved's presence and love!
" sprinter"
spring + winter =.....?..... "sprinter????" What started as a very shy spring some days ago became a very brave and bold spring. I guess these are some of the advantages of the global warming..... or maybe it's just me trying to see the full side of the glass.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
missing the winter d'autre fois....
That night the fresh, sweet and mild air was like the one they used to breathe while in one of the small villages scattered among hills and valleys. It was not the air of oncoming spring, but of winter, quite surprisingly a pre-Christmas winter. It reminded her a lot of long time ago, when she used to spend her winterholidays somwhere near the mountains with her grandparents. It smelled like burnt wood, smoke playfully coming out of chimneys. It smelled of people chattering around the fire, of women preparing traditional meals, of men talking over a glass of moonstone of the "serious" matters of the village, of kids anxiously expecting the next day sledging
.
It was night, winter, after a several days snow....now it had stoppedand a freezing cold was conquering the village and its surroundings. Everything was so white and so light; in spite of the dark night outside all things seemed to have an inner light of their own. And everything was so frozen that almost all noises- footsteps on snow, gates being opened and then closed- almost sounded like broken ice.
Here and there some lonely dog was barking out loud its miserable life. Others always answered, closer and more distant, all joined by a clear cold echo.
That night there were lights in the sky- a huge bright moon and her billion little sisters must be having a ball...
Everything is so clear and fresh in her memory as if it all happened this last Christmas....and yet entire years passed by like eagles in their flight. The same SHE was trying to find the same sky, to grasp the same air, feeling like then. Only the faint breeze of air "d'autant" was present... The light of the earth were more powerful than those in the sky, the fragrances around her were stronger than those of the nature in winter. She was surrounded by parfumes and exquisite flavours; the cigarette smoke and the expesive drinks were invading her, sometimes the air becoming so heavy and overwheming that it almost choked her.
The infatuated laughters, the innuendo, the mean gossip floating within the room were almost hurting...she was wondering: "why hasn't anyone invented the time machine yet?"....
And she was at Aspen....
.It was night, winter, after a several days snow....now it had stoppedand a freezing cold was conquering the village and its surroundings. Everything was so white and so light; in spite of the dark night outside all things seemed to have an inner light of their own. And everything was so frozen that almost all noises- footsteps on snow, gates being opened and then closed- almost sounded like broken ice.
Here and there some lonely dog was barking out loud its miserable life. Others always answered, closer and more distant, all joined by a clear cold echo.
That night there were lights in the sky- a huge bright moon and her billion little sisters must be having a ball...
Everything is so clear and fresh in her memory as if it all happened this last Christmas....and yet entire years passed by like eagles in their flight. The same SHE was trying to find the same sky, to grasp the same air, feeling like then. Only the faint breeze of air "d'autant" was present... The light of the earth were more powerful than those in the sky, the fragrances around her were stronger than those of the nature in winter. She was surrounded by parfumes and exquisite flavours; the cigarette smoke and the expesive drinks were invading her, sometimes the air becoming so heavy and overwheming that it almost choked her.
The infatuated laughters, the innuendo, the mean gossip floating within the room were almost hurting...she was wondering: "why hasn't anyone invented the time machine yet?"....
And she was at Aspen....
Thursday, February 19, 2009
"Parliament controversy"- winter: good or bad???? NC
who said the winter was heading towards the region of the rising sun?....last week or so the sight of fragile, yet so powerful through their fragrance, made my thoughts wander towards warmth and sun and life. Spring seemed so close I my fingertips could almost touch it...it was practically there in front of me...so powerful and so life giving, and so generous in itself. it was like nature came to life- little shy flowers tempted by the warm light of the sun rays, the sky,the birds, people's faces, but most of all the air, so rich and full of je ne sais quoi. Something you can only feel but you're quite incapable of verbalizing...that's spring...feeling happy without an apparent reason, feeling powerful and yet not having an ounce more in your possession that the other day, not being alone all the while wandering the streets by yourself... That's spring....the way I felt it some time ago....but then in a matter of hearbeats i looked outside...my eyes and face were "hit" by white. Amazing and ironic how the same white of snow can be so longed for before a certain day, and how menacing and somehow disturbing in our little petty and shallow daily habits...how come the snow so pure and so often associated with childhood memories and bells of sledges seems now , on the threshold of spring, to have become just...well, just white and cold, and blizzard...whining drivers, horns, jam, nerveous swearing and breakdown....yet we do fail to see that it's the same white, the same pure snow...we fail to see that maybe things in nature, all around us don't necessarily evole around us...we human beings are not the ones to have set the things going...there is a bigger picture here than just us getting comfortably to our jobs in the morning, or than us filling our bags with more and more food for the body and less with food for thought...so we end up complaining:
- look there is so much water in the streets because of all this melted snow!- oh damn! it's cold again, dear. Have you heard? they said it'd be - 5. Oh God. I so hate the cold!....- comon, can't you see I'm in a hurry?!?!? cross the damn street for once and for all, old man! Why don't you stay home if you can't even drag your two boney feet...? We are trying to get to work here....
and so on...all day long....every day appears to come with its own list of human complaints- weather, injustice, poverty.... and again , i really have to use this word again, as i said again ironically you , i most, of us fall in this trap of the whining immortal souls over mortal and insgnificant trifles...
trying to detach myself from it a bit here's a glimpse of the beauty of what we so much blame - winter...
- look there is so much water in the streets because of all this melted snow!- oh damn! it's cold again, dear. Have you heard? they said it'd be - 5. Oh God. I so hate the cold!....- comon, can't you see I'm in a hurry?!?!? cross the damn street for once and for all, old man! Why don't you stay home if you can't even drag your two boney feet...? We are trying to get to work here....
and so on...all day long....every day appears to come with its own list of human complaints- weather, injustice, poverty.... and again , i really have to use this word again, as i said again ironically you , i most, of us fall in this trap of the whining immortal souls over mortal and insgnificant trifles...
trying to detach myself from it a bit here's a glimpse of the beauty of what we so much blame - winter...
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