| Kūčių stalas pas mus retai pilnas kalbų ir dar rečiau valgių. Eglutė namuose baigėsi su tėvų santuoka, baigėsi klausimai ar raudoną žvaigždę ant viršūnęs, ar snaigę. Dabar, mes, trijų kartų mergos, kartais susėdam prie šventinio stalo trise, išgeriam alaus, suvalgom kokią silkę ar keptos žuvies, pašnekam apie gyvenimą. Na, Klaipėda, žinai.
Babytė, kuomet įteikiau jai vienietiškų saldainių maišelį, užklausė kiek šalių per savo gyvenimą aplankiau. Mano važinėjimas jai neša stogą, matau. Čia mama pasitelkia savo interpretaciją:
– Supranti, – sako ji, – mes savo laiku gyvenome taip: sukuri šeimą, gauni butą čia, – ji duria dešinės rankos nykščiu į stalą, – tada gauni kolektyvinį sodą čia, – rodomuoju tos pačios rankos pirštu ji ištęsia sprindį, – tada perki mašiną ir gauni garažą čia, – kitos rankos rodomuoju pirštu ji beda toli kairėn. – Ir kas tada? Tada tu visą laiką važinėji ratais ir daug pinigų išleidi ant benzino. Tas ratas yra tavo didžiausias rūpestis, pamiršti, kad yra kitas pasaulis. | comments: 6 comments or Leave a comment   |
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*an installation consisting of around 64 head-size mirror objects.
Each object moves its head in a particular way to give it different characteristics of human behaviour.
Some chat amongst themselves, some shy away and others confidently move to grab your attention.
When members of the audience occupy the space, the mirrors inquisitively follow someone that they find interesting.
Having chosen their subject, they all synchronise and turn their heads towards them.
Suddenly that person can see their reflection in all of the mirrors.
They will watch this person until they become disinterested, then either seek out another subject
or return to their private chatter. The collective behaviour of the objects is beyond the control of the viewer,
as it is left entirely to their discretion to let go of their subject.
*http://www.chrisoshea.org/projects/audience/
*от себя добавлю, что не менее концептуальный и впечатляющий арт-объект одно время располагался в игрушечном отделе
рижского универмага elkor plaza: длинная полка стоящих в ряд коробок с примитивными механическими кошками,
которые реагировали на проходящего мимо них человека поворотом головы и робо-"мяу". все по очереди или одновременно.
бегать мимо этой полки можно было бесконечно!
конечно, пока тебя не выгонял затраханный многократным нестройным хоровым "мяу" краснорубашечник. | | comments: 2 comments or Leave a comment |
| | Current Music: | Saturnus - All Alone | | Subject: | .Medieval Torture. | | Time: | 05:20 am | | Current Mood: | shocked |
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| Oh My Fucking God.
I'm laying in bed, sort of nearly dozing off... when Saturnus - All Alone song comes on from Veronika Decides To Die album and the beginning notes drift along in my awareness... when I reach this state between being nearly asleep and still aware of the music and feeling just unreal enough to suddenly really feel into the music... and I find myself seeing Abbey ruins (Glastonbury), near the entrance and I perceive myself there. Something Medieval. And then I see myself laying on the floor pierced by at least four long spears in my stomach and then in the vision I see lots of melted metal (mercury?) being poured into my mouth and then I imagine the excruciating pain as it rips my throat and liver open inside my own body... I start to physically convulse, putting my hand on the mouth in horror, breathing heavily, staring off into space, almost crying and nervously curling my toes trying to release the tension of this vivid experience...
What the fuck...
If this is how it was... no wonder I have the fucking eczema all over my throat... and this is just one vision...
I'm ancient remember...
Right, back to sleep. | | comments: 2 comments or Leave a comment |
| | Current Music: | Dovanon - Wear Your Love Like Heaven | | Subject: | .Nocturnal Musings. | | Time: | 02:56 am | | Current Mood: | feminine & ... |
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| Magenta... Magenta... Magenta... lady...
Tonight I wear the magenta shawl draped around my shoulders... like a spiritual artist of rare femininity. I feel like her, whom I admire so much, who is dead... I can only guess how similar our inner mysteries are. That Scorpio world. That endless compulsion...
My Spine seems to intensify my reactions to anything much more lately. I feel like I'm turned inside out. But such depths are unheard of...
which brings me to...
feeling so.... one of a kind. Even if I invite them to something magical, even if I bring this side of me into the interaction of tradition that is the same year after year; I find myself alone in my own depth. Even when it is it before their eyes - they do not see as deep as my passion would lead me to see and dive in and to seethe with intense contemplation: life and death both intertwined...
I'm so fucking ancient. Even if I try to deny and be only 22 years old, my differences of aeons gone sit in my throat like lumps.
Drink that wine.
I have no shape for my mystery. I have no words for the depth of my wisdom - my silent love, my seeing eyes, my heart that pierces through worlds and sees the darkness of unborn potentiality.
I'm old! I'm old! I'm so old!
Now to trust that ancient timelessness within me. Now to trust that unseen possibility calling me... Now to trust my inner journey. To trust the strangeness of life. Oh, to trust merry things!
You see, you see... atka de tis padrek nechlamah saba sacha rataratarapah! It ti pi ich ti nah lah! Si pa dema kamaluzma ich ti nah! Ne padma ne kachda icht mi nahh ne nu zu padumazahte... ipa ita inichti pa! Imzi timpi mahhtapamaratamaramitaranichnich! Izum tizum nigchtick... ne apneh, ni ap nech, ut mi nah te ra te ra nich nich nah! Amna tera, ni tera ni tera ni tera ni tera!!!! That was my soul speaking, cos human language failed my ancient tongue.
Stars! Come to me tonight... every single one of you... that ever was... that ever will be... to shine your light... to return it to the eternal dark again... just shine and dim and dance and sing in the mystery of my heart.
I'm tired of doubting myself.
Tired of being ancient, and tired of seeing my wise eyes staring back at me... as though I am young again, and maybe foolish.
Crimson flood overwhelms my mouth... was that blood... was that blood... was that blood................... | | comments: 2 comments or Leave a comment |
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"He's like a fresh Spring morning isn't he? ... A sweet meadow", he smiles as he's crouched on the floor, where he always is, and scoops up one of his kittens into his arms, kissing and cooing. His dark hair is still ruggedly wild despite having just been cut, and the beginnings of a five o'clock shadow is forming on his chiseled jaw. Despite myself sterotyping, he definitely does not look like the kind of man who would behave like this. Being around him is becoming difficult; despite our strong friendship, he is ever more intimidating.
Beside him I am a doll; I am younger than him, shorter than him, and I seem more naive, despite being four years older. Good god I look so much younger...
Beside him I am like glass; reflecting his every joke and pleasing attribute and throwing it joyfully around myself like confetti.
He treated me to an evening of seafood dinner he made himself; posh aphrodisiacs, muscles, salmon.. I had never tried these things before in my life. Despite being an impossibly fussy eater who never likes trying new food, that night I ate like a wolf and had to apologise for the completely uncivilized way I ate it.
He is a master of alcholic elixirs; he had created a gin-based cocktail in a large sharing glass which at first looked like something a scientist would use. He named it Oceane. I assumed it was for the taste and colour, but the intoxication was as powerful as though we had been swept out to sea.
I enjoy his company for it's absolute and complete sense of being FREE.
Free, mad, and spontaneous.
I have wanted in so long.
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| | Current Music: | Russian Radio | | Subject: | .Spine Colours. | | Time: | 01:17 pm | | Current Mood: | observant |
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| Clearly, undeniably I have witnessed how the mind fails to interpret truthfully my reality for me if I do something multidimensional that directly impacts my life. If I bring a potential into my palms from infinity - the mind does not know what to say about it. If I spend a day being multidimensional, at the end of it, the mind will not know how to communicate to me what has happened, and how my life has changed. When the mind does try to interpret my reality for me, it will often give me a more negative feedback, not because the mind tries to be vicious, but because I am Whole and the mind is just a Part. So what can I rely on now?
The Spine.
I perceive it today with colours around the portal of it, beautiful misty and warm glow of soft and intense green, red, pink, yellow, light blue, magenta, purple... in noble flower patterns of higher realms, of a higher truth, higher integrity, higher everything... these colours and patterns I perceive around my Spine seem to serve as protection, not in the sense of protecting me from danger, but more so that my Spine Portal perceptions are Pure and Reliable and Personal.
That's all.
I feel a happiness flood me and fill my whole being with the rush of Relentless Love outpouring from the Spine... | | comments: Leave a comment |
| Pati gražiausia kalėdinė giesmė. Nenusibostanti, neįkyrinti. Su artėjančiom! Saulė grįžta!
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ну вот, от вчерашней зимней сказки не осталось ничего - ночью прошел дождь и теперь за окном совсем балтийский пейзаж
с мокрыми елками и выцветшей морской травой на черной земле под сходящим ноздреватым снегом. обидно и больно,
спасает только определенная уверенность, что месяцев через десять, скорее всего, статистически, снова наступит зима.
( idiot myself mode )
если вы дочитали до этого места, позвольте мне компенсировать мои человеческие качества и излишнюю искренность
этими фотографиями лондонской зимы:
 | | comments: 13 comments or Leave a comment |
| Lyg ir reikėtų paberti linkėjimų, bet kad metai ne rytoj baigiasi, tai dar pabrandinsiu. Kai kas gavo popierinius sveikinimus. Aš ir gavau. Šviesu ir šilta. Šiaip gera. Tai to gerumo ir Jums linkiu. Visa kita - vėliau.
Po vakarykščio tvano namuose šioks toks bardakas. A, nežinantiems, vakar ryte laiptinėje trūko šildymo vamzdis, vanduo kliokė laiptais ir per sienas. Su kaimynais šluotomis ir šepečiais vandenį šlavėm, kad per slenkstį į kiekvieno namus neužeitų. Gerai, kad namų neužpylė, būtų itin "linksmos" šventės buvę.
Kūčiavosim Vilniuje. Rytoj suksim ienas į Šiaurę ir tikėsimės, kad nebus didelio plikledžio arba neužpustys kelių į kaimą. Pastarasis variantas labiausiai tikėtinas. Na, kaip nors.
Šiemet kaip niekada neturiu materialių norų. Žinoma, smalsumas tampo už nosies, žvelgiant į tas blizgias dovanų dėžutes, kurias vakar gavome, bet kai kurių dalykų norisi labiau. Daug labiau, nei tas dovanas išpakuoti.
Viskas bus gerai. Privalo būti. | | comments: 8 comments or Leave a comment |
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кажется, толстой писал, что жизнь подростка неисчерпаема богата внутренними эмоциональными событиями и бедна реальными.
поэтому раньше у меня хорошо получалось вести бложек, а теперь меня хватает только на то чтобы после дня,
полного самых разнообразных и невообразимых одновременно по своей комедийной составляющей,
которая украсила бы любой фильм саймоном пеггом, событий, взойти по лестнице на свой второй этаж и рухнуть лицом вниз в кровать.
тем не менее, этот бложик чуть ли не единственное, что связывает меня настоящего с моим ненастоящим,
поэтому было бы жалко пустить его под хвост. стараюсь. более того, не могу избавиться от привычки каждый раз думать "ого, вот об этом мне точно стоит написать в бложек". это греет, как электромотор икаруса - замерзшие пальцы ног школьника.
( i want to be part of the human race ) | | comments: 32 comments or Leave a comment |
| Kažkaip per dažnai pradėjau kirpti plaukus.
Atostogos prasmegs fizikos ir matematikos uždavinynuose, chemijos konspektuose bei biologijos vadovėliuose. Va, kas būna, kai pasilieki papildomus darbus kitiems kartams. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| beje, gripo epidemija baigėsi. kol kas.
o Olandijoj naikina ožkas. atsiprašau, man gražiau sakyti Olandija. naikina, nes plinta ožkų gripas. "Anksčiau Olandijoje per metus ožkų gripu susirgdavo apie 20 žmonių, 2007-aisiais jų buvo jau 168, dar po metų - beveik 1 tūkst. Nuo 2009 metų pradžios ožkų gripu susirgo 2 tūkst. 300 olandų."
Wiki nevadina tos ligos gripu, o "Q karštine". pleomorfinė kokobacila. man išvis panašu į kažkokią "erkinę ligą". biologinis ginklas... biologiniai ginklai šlykštu. bet gerai pagalvojus, turbūt yra ir kolbelėmis su štamais besižavinčių pridurkų, plg. tuos, kurie liežuvius iškorę aikčioja prie revolverių ir automatų.
tai šitąjį, kodėl nėr panikos, ką? | | comments: 3 comments or Leave a comment |
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šiandien mano žodis yra nežinau.
kaip aš dabar nirštu ant tų tetos Ž žodžių, kad niekada nežinosiu, ko noriu. dabar man jie skamba it koks prakeiksmas.
ah, kaip ghhhhh yra jaustis desperatiškai. beveik taip, kaip mano dėstytoja R,, kuri neištvėrusi kažkokio nesuvaldomo teksto vertimo, sviedė milžinišką ir brangią knygą į sieną.
nirštas.
nerštas.
dvejonių nertinis,
po galais.
o įdomu, kaip atrodo pykčio ir keršto kurstoma poezija? tik tarp kitko. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| Mielieji, jeigu kas nors, iš buvusių "Metai 2" pažįsta ten fotografavusius žmones, tai pasakykite jiems, kad "Ilgumos" na žiauriai žiauriai laukia nuotraukų. Kad būsime dėkingi ir visokie kitokie :)
Kad galima siųsti ilgumos.nmg[beigi]gmail.com ar bet kur nurodyti linką.
Taip labai norim, kad net nu. | | comments: 2 comments or Leave a comment |
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