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
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)