I've been wishing...

I've been remembering...

The snow. Because it is, of course, gone. So here are the memories:

I've been snowing...

First time for about five years, I have seen snow again! :) I forgot how beautiful winter can be! A picture - soon :) But for now - enjoy the Christmas, be good to each other, treat people and animals the way you would like to be treated and see you in New Year! (How exciting... :) )!

I've been thinking...

I really like Agnieszka Holland - she is such a wonderful director! However, every time I watch one of her films, I get upset. This time it was "Copying Beethoven" with two of the most handsome people in the world - Ed Harris and Matthew Goode. But I was not going to write about the film.
Probably, because I spent last ten days in bed and not moving too much - I had this reflection... Every true artist is designed to be alone. I do realise it's not news for anybody. But it's just the fact that I don't quite get it. Why all these people who can see more, who can say something interesting, who have new, different opinions, they always end up alone? I don't mean lonely. There are always crowds wanting to touch them or read about them. But I mean, in their own houses, dark rooms, they cry quietly and nobody is there to give them a cuddle and say - 'yup, the world is coming to an end and god does not love you any more but it's ok, I'm here for you'. Why is the world coming to an end?... Where has god gone this time?...

I've been sleeping...

Yes, I have been told to sleep. So I am. I need loads of cuddles though. And hugs. Cuddles are good for your skin and general self-confidence. My self- confidence has been doubting the point of existence recently...

I've been watching...

Usually, as all thinking human beings, after reading a book, listening to music or watching a film, I make my own decisions as to whether I like what I just experienced or not. This time, I need to admit not without embarrassment, I needed to look through other reviews before writing my own. I am not going to use them as none of them describes my feelings towards “Babel” by Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu. And that is the point of this film – to leave the audience confused and not sure what to think. For that - I congratulate. I’m just not sure.
First of all, it’s all about film-making this time. Inarritu has shown in 21 Grams and in Amorres Perros that he can make films in new, his own, forward-thinking way. But why does he need to keep proving it to all of us? Yes, he is a good director. Great. But maybe it’s about time he concentrated on the story and the characters in it. Because this time round he got lost. At the beginning I believed that it was done purposely – to build the tension, to make us more interested and to get different points of view of the situation. Well, I think I was mistaken. The plot has vanished as soon as the Mexican nephew deserted the scene and neither of them came back till the end...
Let’s say it: this movie is too long. It doesn’t mean it’s boring; it’s just too complicated. The best part of it – the story in Japan, could have been a separate film itself, and as the stories in Mexico and Morocco did not lose out too much, Chieko could have definitely been made a protagonist in a wonderful picture about her and her relationships with the world only. Here, she appears, she has problems, she gets upset and we lose her every twenty minutes to move to some other country, other people, other problems. Not fair.
I have never seen anything with so many merital errors! Seriously – do you not need to check your facts before making a film?!
At the end of the day, it all can be forgiven because this film is quite ok. That’s what so surprising about it – you don’t have a feeling that you just wasted last three hours. But you do wonder why you don’t have this feeling...
Some scenes are simply unreal. But in this unrealistic world, you doubt in what is written in stone and what is actually possible to happen. That’s why you get drawn in into this soap-opera of languages.
I’m still not sure whether to give it thumbs up or thumbs down. I’m just not sure.

I've been reading...

Seldom does it happen that I fall in a love in protagonists from the novels I read. Yes, I might like them, love them, empathise with them but falling in love as such has only happened once so far and it was Koroviev from “Master and Margarita”. Well, I guess I can see the pattern emerging here as my second “victim” has also something to do with the Devil himself. However, Gideon Mack (the man who broke my heart ) meets the Devil in quite different circumstances. While being a priest for a fun of it, going through life’s ups and downs completely on his own and trying to stay sane in an insane world, Gideon does not really believe in Satan (or God for that matter). He doesn’t have time or energy for it. And then he ends up his existence on the material world trying to convince people that there is something else out there.
“The testament of Gideon Mack” is definitely one of the best written novels I have recently had a chance to read. It flows. You want more and more and you know that something unexpected is waiting for you round the corner. Using different techniques helped to introduce the atmosphere of a real story. And well done, I actually googled Catherine Craigie and I so hoped she was going to come up as a famous Scottish folklorist. Because every single character from this story is so realistic that you keep thinking of actually going to Monimaskit and saying ‘hallo’.
From Gideon to Harry to Jenny to Gideon’s parents, everybody is human. Human beings make mistakes. Human beings have doubts. Human beings do things that hurt others for a number of reasons. Human beings are not perfect. I don’t think it is a book about religion. I reckon it’s about people who are searching, for people who haven’t found.
I will recommend it to anybody who can read and will be eager to wait till they finish so it can be discussed. I wonder how many different opinions as to Mack’s life, death and in-between there are. I won’t write my guesses here because I would not like to spoil it for anybody. And also, because probably my opinion on the subject will change as many times as I think about it.

I've been listening...

OK. I said I was back but I wasn’t. As it occurs, life is full of surprises and my life became even more hectic that it had been so far. Therefore, I couldn’t write. Again. If everything goes according to the plan, I’ll stay.

First of all, I just want to say hello to K. Hi K.! K. was on the ship that recently sank in the Antarctic waters... And gave me a heart attack...

Right. Now...

Have you heard the new Babyshambles album yet?! I know, I know... I said that Down in Albion was great and everybody hated it but this time I think that even people who are not as biased as I am (as in: not deeply and forever admiring the striking genius of P.D.) will appreciate this wonderful and special gift from one of the best bands in the history of music!
When in 2006 Pete and co. finally released DiA, I was the happiest person in the world. Despite the bitter words of critics, I still believe it’s a classic and our grandchildren will listen to it (as long as the music and earth in general will still exist by then). Then there came The Blinding and the critics had nothing to say but wait and see. And we all waited. And we all have a chance to see – Shotters Nation rules!!
I had my doubts at first. I thought it was too pretty and too polished and I blamed Mr Street who produced it. But after playing it time after time, I got more familiar with the sound and I found the harshness I was looking for but on the deeper levels. It turns out that Pete is a singer and a good one! And - you can understand what he is actually singing about!! And when you really start listening to what he is saying and how he is saying it – blows your mind! Even the infantile bits seem very poetic when he is the one making the poetry.
But Shotters Nation is not the solo effort. Not this time. Of course, without Pete’s voice, heart-breaking stories, puppy eyes and charm that only he can have, there wouldn’t be a discussion about something as special as it is. However, this underestimated prince of art wouldn’t make it, should it be for Adam Ficek, Mick Whitnall and Drew McConnell. Whatever you’ve heard about them, these three boys kick ass and they make you want to get it kicked even more. Acknowledging that Pete is not a God and letting the band and the producer speak is a big step towards the success.
It is still a very personal journey. The lyrics, as always, bare all and it would be nice if people instead of making the assumptions, would just listen what this boy has got to say. He is (again) asking for understanding, respect and a cuddle. And he deserves one too.
There are three kinds of people in the world: people who know Peter Doherty as Kate Moss’s ex; people who know Kate Moss as Peter Doherty’s ex (that would be me) and people who don’t give a fuck and are happy that way. I hope at least the first kind will see a human instead of a junkie after listening to SN. The difficult second album trial has been officially won. They even landed in charts. Well, I’m off to see them in January and hopefully, this once they won’t cancel! And others can go and try to compare every new indie band to The Libs. Good Luck. As far as I know The Libs have split up and now new gang is in town. Carl who...?

I've been dreaming...

I’ve been watching...

At this moment in time, I feel like I’m quite a poor (money-wise) person. I haven’t got my address and there have been days when I had one sandwich and a coffee. Oh, yes... Coffee...
I have just watched “Black Gold”- a story about one man trying to change the world. How come when you are willing to fuck something up, you become a prime minister or a president? But when you are actually fighting for the world to become a better place – it’s next to impossible to find support!? Anyway, there is this “Man in charge” – Tadesse Meskela (General Manager of the Oromia Coffee Farmers Co-operative Union) [ for those who would like to read up: http://www.blackgoldmovie.com/tadesse.php ] and there are Ethiopian people. The wages of the seventy percent of the country depend on the coffee market.

Please read this: http://www.blackgoldmovie.com/story.php

If I think again, well, I’m not that poor. I am not allowed to complain. I’m not going to preach and say: “do this, don’t do that”. It’s completely up to you to make the decision. Next time, when you are going shopping, think twice before you pick the coffee up from the shelf. It is a luxury item. We can easily live without it. Of course, what would the life be without any luxuries? Yup. So let’s help the people of Ethiopia enjoy theirs, let’s make it possible for them to eat, to drink clean water, to be treated when they are ill; and the biggest luxury of them all – let’s send their children to school, let’s build the schools and let’s pay for their teachers. Do you think it is a fair exchange?...
Just because you have chosen to pay 20pence more for your coffee (much better quality, too!), somebody else can eat for a week. Makes you think, ey?...

I've been talking...

I’ve been moving...

So the break has finally finished. I do apologise to those who sent me numerous e-mails asking when I was going to be back. It took me a while to pick the pieces of my soul up. The problem was they were (are?) widely scattered and I needed to spend some time looking for them. I have not yet recovered but maybe one day I will and that’s what keeps me going.

I have moved to a new country. Again. This time it was a bit more difficult than usual as I had to leave the most beautiful Island – my Home. All my Friends, Favourite Places, Magical Atmosphere – stayed behind. Probably, one day I will go back. But for now, I’m living in the Land of Liberty. I am learning completely new ways of life, different attitudes, points of view. My eyes are wide opened all the time and I keep getting shocked. I also smile a lot. Well – how can you not smile when somebody puts chocolate sprinkle on your cheese sandwich? Or when you want to take a shower and all there is for you is a hole in the floor? Have you seen modern architecture in the Netherlands?? Or toilet seats with shelves for your poo? So many things I don’t understand and, I guess, I never will, no matter how long I’m going to stay here for. But that’s the beauty of it. It is unlike anything I expected it to be. Country forgotten by progress but at the same time a centre of European “future”. Hilarious mixture. The greatest thing about this place is that I really don’t need to look for a hooded, foreign looking teenager who can provide me with my pain medicine. I just go to the coffee shop and treat it like the Chemist’s.

By the way, XXX in the Amsterdam crest does not stand for porn! It means: no famine, no fire and no floods! That was quite cool to think it’s a red light district advertisement.

I've been breaking...

There's is going to be a gap for some time. I do apologise. Let's call it a technical break and I'll explain when I'm back. Hopefully...

I've been watching...

Recently, I’ve got to admit, I have been watching lighter films than usual. With millions of different things going on in and outside of my head, I just need to chill from time to time. And of course, as a film lover/addict, the best way to chill is just to have a glass of nice wine, to cuddle up in soft blanket and put a romantic comedy on. Not long ago, I have watched “Puccini for Beginners”. I loved it. It was a romcom but still it made my day and it did include some out of the bracket thoughts. When I was reading reviews of that movie, I went to “If you like this, you will like…” section, as I do. And there I found: “Imagine me & you” by Ol Parker. Lovely Piper Perabo (makes you melt!), great Lena Headey (she so beautiful and special – gets you in love with her after she appears on the screen first time), most handsome Matthew Goode (how hot can you get?!), Boo Jackson (amazing - left me speechless and made me have giggles forever) – them and the rest of cast played so naturally that one could think it was your mates from around the corner, having their issues sorted. Yes, it did get cheesy and lovey dovey at some points. But then again, what do you expect from this genre?

The reason I am writing about this film is (well, not trying to be original here or anything… :) - love… I did ask this question before – so – what is love? Is it the addiction to the other person? The constant need of being with them? Best friends kind of meal deal? It is lovely to be able to discuss every single aspect of life with your other half. It is great to be able to trust them. It makes it nice when they are treating you well. It’s good to be used to the other persons breath on the pillow in the morning. It’s wonderful when you can share your interests and passions. It’s all great. But these components are components of a good marriage or great friendship. They are definitely not components of love. Because love is this little butterfly that doesn’t let you sleep at night. I’ve been with somebody because they were alright. I never really felt this huge desire, lust (not only the physical one) and going mad with animals in your stomach… Do not make this mistake. Life is funny and fortune changes – things might go good, things might go bad. But don’t get involved with somebody just because you think they are nice. Nice is wrong. Just follow what your heart tells you to do and don’t waste another second of your life. There are so many emotions to feel. Don’t sit and think. Get up and do. And always desire. And always be passionate about every little detail in your life. We are not staying here forever, you know…

I've been wrongdoing...

When least expected, the Dark Side of your soul awakens. “Pleased to see you”, She says. And you answer: “I’ve been waiting…” And then you both go together into the Reality. You want to believe that you are innocent. You want to think and convince yourself that everything is fine. But you know you’re bad. Deep down everything tells you what you became. Even though you don’t want to believe it, the Dark Side of your soul is now your best friend…

I've been OK...

I've been swearing...

Motherfucking son of a bitch!!! Fucking asshole made me hate again!!! ARGH!!!!! Piece of shit. Trash. And let's just forget...

I've been reading...

***



***

I've been drinking...

Socrates rules!

I've been watching...

OK. If I was being seen by a psychiatrist right now, they would say: that’s it. That’s it. It is completely normal to go through phases. In my case it was: first- denial. Then denial. Then another denial. And some more denial. Then hurt feelings. Then fear. Then anger. Huge anger and loads of it. Then more fear. Then loads of tears. Some more anger. Some more fear. Hatred. Ignorance. Whateverness. Recalling past. And some others. Now, that’s it. Now the normality came. My treatment has been accomplished. I have loads of positive energy in me and a big smile on my face. And this time, it’s for real!
I have seen a great movie! Maria Magenti’s “Puccini for Beginners”. It’s about every single one of us. In a way. Well, if you keep reading this blog, than it is about you too :) Love is funny when you look at all these “huge” problems from outside. Of course, they are huge. But sometimes it’s worth to sit down in front of the mirror and just say: “you silly moo. And what
are you worried about?!"

I've been recalling...

I've been watching...

“How do you learn to love again when the pain of the past won’t let you go...?” (from the “Little Fish” website)

You don’t. There is no love for those who have been through the real pain and real suffering. You can never be born again, even though you believe that one day you would be.
Rowan Woods and Jacqueline Perske made a beautiful film about trying, dreaming, hoping. Cate Blanchett played so amazingly that just by looking at her I had shivers and my stomach was turning inside out. In whatever way.
There’s this feeling in all of us sometimes – that everybody around is lying, that trust is worth less that nothing, that every single one of us is the most selfish creature ever existed. But then we shake this feeling off and try to live. Try to carry on existing. I don’t believe that I would be ever able to shake this feeling off...
Enough.

I've been smiling...

I've been reading...

"Disgrace" by Carol Ann Duffy

But one day we woke to our disgrace; our house

a coldness of rooms, each nursing

a thickening cyst of dust and gloom.

We had not been home in our hearts for months.

And how our words changed. Dead flies in a web.

How they stiffened and blackened. Cherished italics

suddenly sour on our tongues, obscenities

spraying themselves on the wall in my head.

Woke to your clothes like a corpse on the floor,

the small deaths of lightbulbs pining all day

in my ears, their echoes audible tears;

nothing we would not do to make it worse

and worse. Into the night with the wrong language,

waving and pointing, the shadows of hands

huge in the bedroom. Dreamed of a naked crawl

from a dead place over the other; both of us. Woke.

Woke to an absence of grace; the still-life

of a meal, untouched, wine-bottle, empty, ashtray,

full. In our sullen kitchen, the fridge

hardened its cool heart, selfish as art, hummed.

To a bowl of apples rotten to the core. Lame shoes

empty in the hall where our voices asked

for a message after the tone, the telephone

pressing its ear to distant, invisible lips.

And our garden bowing its head, vulnerable flowers

unseen in the dusk as we shouted in silhouette.

Woke to the screaming alarm, the banging door,

the house-plants trembling in their brittle soil. Total

Disgrace. Up in the dark to stand at the window,

counting the years to arrive there, faithless,

unpenitent. Woke to the meaningless stars, you

and me both, lost. Inconsolable vowels from the next room.

I’ve been remembering...

(I promised to say ‘hello’ to somebody: ‘hi Anne! Hope you are having a good time :)’ )

“You’re always ahead of the game
I drag behind
You never get caught in the rain
When I’m drenched to the bone every time”
Brian Molko

For some reason, I have been thinking about my ex-best-friend today. We met each other about ten years ago and became best pals two years later. You know, the kind of Friend that is supposedly forever. I thought she was the only person in my life that, no matter what, always stuck up for me, was always there and always... “Always” seems to be an overused word. I would do anything for this girl; I would jump off the cliff if she’d wanted me to. And expected her to love me equally. We would have the best of times together, spending nights drinking cheap wine in the park, pulling random blokes, dancing to cheesy dance music in the pinkest and most wonderful gay club in the world in our black jumpers and grinders, having never-ending conversations about life, writing and reading poetry, falling in and out of love with all the wrong people, rescuing each other from shit over and over again... This list can go on and on and on... I loved her as I have never ever loved anybody else and I would never be able to love anybody in the same way. I could trust her entirely, and she knew she could trust me...
And then I left my home country (long before the rest of the nation left!!). She stayed. I had to start being an adult. She was free to carry on with the life I use to lead. Lovely, colourful, eventful, poetic life. I had to step down and earn money, started building a family; your normal boring life. I have changed. She stayed the way we used to be. I think the word that describes it the best is ‘young’.
We still talked on the phone and wrote letters. One year I went to visit her. I realised something. I used to be addicted to her. She was my “boss” and I clung to her because I was scared she’d leave me. In our relationship, everything was about her. I was being dragged behind. But I grew up. And I learnt how to live on my own. And then we met again. And she didn’t like it. We were pass arguing. Beyond understanding. In one second everything was lost. She is proud, I am stubborn. We will never be friends again.
If somebody had said to me five years ago that that’s how we were going to end up, I would have laughed in their face and tell them to never say stupid things like that.
Looks like stupid things happen.
I have never talked to anybody about what has really happened and what was the true reason to my decision of ending this toxic relationship. She has. I have heard a lot of things about me that can hurt more than an android falling on your head. Makes me cry in a silent, non-believing kind of way. When you can’t understand, can’t do anything, “can’t move a muscle or a cell”...
So... These things happen to good people too then? Heh...

Hey P., if you ever come across this note, listen to this song, please:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nS0W99z2kfI&mode=related&search=

I’m medicated, how are you?...

I've been giving up...

Staring at the blank screen, not knowing if it’s just a screen or if the whole world has just gone blank. Giving up is damn easy. Trying is bloody hard. So I’ve heard.
My mind is preoccupied with trying to give up. The situation is a lot like with the cigarettes – I gave up some time ago (quite recently but I’m not one of those who put a big red cross in the diary marking the date so not sure when it was) and I’m doing quite well. Ok, there have been some occassions when I had thoughts about having one but they went away when I explained them patiently to leave me alone. There also have been moments (at the very beginning) that I had a little drag. It tasted really disgusting. Lack of nicotine? I’m quite happy I’m lacking it as I can breathe again and walk faster than a turtle without gasping for air. Missing one after food? Well, this one IS a problem but I’m getting used to it. And the longer I do it for, the easier it gets and I’m starting to actually taste food! And my teeth are becoming less brown! And my clothes don’t stink and people don’t move away while talking to me! I know those who get really stressed after quitting. As if the little white stick with some shit inside had some relaxing qualities. They make me laugh. At least if it was herb that DOES have relaxing qualities – oh, smoke away please – I don’t mind people chilling and being happy! But cigarettes?! What do they make you do? Cough? Be tired? Have headaches? So, all these people who are so extremely upset after giving up – they have not given up at all. They lost with the stupid cigarette AND, most of all, with themselves.
Coming back to the “situation”. So now I’m “a smoker”. Poisoning myself and letting “the cigarette” slowly but surely kill me. And it’s killing me with pleasure. It’s making me believe that it is my decision/fault that I’m inhaling the smoke, that I have no choice, that I will never be able to give up and that there is no other options nor chances for me.
I have managed to give up smoking. I really have.

I've been laughing...

Three pairs of blindingly white eyeballs. Three bald blue heads. Three aliens coming from… well, not really sure where they were coming from – very distant planet. Planet without pointless pop culture (culture?!), without brainless use of the media, without global warming.
Blue Man Group ARE wonderful – whatever people say. First of all, they are trying to say something important, being/becoming at the same time, ironically, a part of our sparkly pop world. They are extremely likeable and talented and that makes it so much easier to listen to the message they’ve got to “transmit”.
The show is awesome! I have not laughed so much for a long time. I got tickets as an anniversary present for my man and wasn’t sure what to expect. I thought it would be ok, but I had not foreseen the amount of fun I had! It felt like being a child all over again. (By the way, I think that’s how they get the bad reviews – people who write them are too serious and too afraid to chill, to be innocent and to let go). I allowed the performers to take over my attitude and went with the flow (at some points – quite literally).
Music was beautiful, I loved the pipes and the colours and the paper… I would definitely go again. (If it wasn’t a mission to get to London – small detail)

In the meantime, I’ve been reading my new Idol – Kapuscinski. It is such a shame I discovered him so late...
He was a traveller and a real one. I wish all the reporters learnt from him. I definitely recommend “My Travels with Herodot” – magical piece of writing!

I've been watching...

There are not many things in the world that hurt more than the fact that the person you wake up with every morning doesn’t want you, doesn’t admire you, doesn’t find you attractive. It is utterly difficult not to be cuddled back when all you try to do is to gain a little bit of warmth and love.
Tom Perrotta has written a book and Todd Field directed a film – “Little Children”. Sarah is a young, average looking mother and wife. When you look in her eyes you can see the longing. She is missing real life, full of excitement, feelings, truth. What she gets instead is her husband – a man that masturbates thinking about a woman whose name is definitely not Sarah, and a bunch of “friends” who don’t even understand the simplest of emotions. She has nobody to talk or refer to. When she meets Brad, a great looking single father who is apparently trying to pass his bar exams, she falls into a freaked out relationship. Obviously, she does not love him, but the fact that somebody finds her attractive, that somebody wants to touch her and that she can do something other than watching her husband wanking in front of the computer screen – that reassures her, makes her feel like a woman again.
Brad’s married too. He has got a marvellous, loving wife and a great son who looks up to his father. Doesn’t have to and doesn’t really want to work. He’s quite comfy with the life he’s leading. When he crosses paths with Sarah – it’s just one of these things that men do to be able to have memories. He is being a little boy who wants a candy AND a lollipop but aren’t all affair tales the same?
There are other wonderfully shown characters in this so meaningful feature but I have concentrated on Sarah as I think I can empathise with her the most.
Funny thing is, I want to shout at her, to her: hey girl! Do this! Don’t do that! C’mon, you are a great gal, why are you letting people shit on you?! But at the same time, I know that she knows all that. But sometimes you just find yourself in a position where you cannot move. You are stuck and you don’t know how to get out, even if everybody else around you gives you all kinds of advice.
Sometimes there’s just no way in any direction...

I've been observing...

Figurine

This cute, maybe 5 inches tall figurine just came into the college. He looked around, tripped over his shoe and, scared, looked at his mummy... He was quite terrified by the emptiness of the huge building and after he stood up, he just looked amazed. He was looking around, touching stuff, being hardly even able to walk properly... then he had been sat on my desk as his mum had to put his gloves on. He winked to me and said: ‘O!’ - and then: ‘A!’ And smiled. I smiled at him too. Then, realising that his mum was too busy talking to her friend to pay attention, he crawled towards me and hugged my arm. He was still smaller then my arm. He was not afraid. He just wanted to thank me for the smile. He was quickly taken away and his mum apologised to me for him. Hm... Funny, I thought, I can’t see the reason she was saying sorry for. They walked away, leaving me with a feeling of emptiness and lack of something. Lack of pure, crystal clear love and positive emotions towards other human beings. We do not award people with hugs for their smiles. We’re too busy...

I've been calming down...

I finished work early today so I decided to go for a walk, to watch the sea. I am so lucky to be surrounded by this sacred water. I’ve been walking for hours, just staring at the waves hitting the rocks. It gives me so much strength.
I’ve been crying quite a bit recently but sea is my medicine. I gave up smoking recently. Sea is my cigarettes. I’ve been bent. Sea straightens me up.
I have seen some time ago “Walk on Water” (Israel 2004) – they say in there that when you “completely purify yourself” and your heart is “clean from the inside; no negativity, no bad thoughts” – then you can walk on water. I have tried today and failed. But I’m still learning. I’m giving myself a chance.

I've been walking...

So I went on a charity walk. Cause number one: to get monies for the treatment of lymphoedema. Cause number two: to raise awareness of breast cancer. Cause number three: (the selfish one) to get a wee bit fitter. So... I can't move, I moan and groan. And I'd better stay in bed today, massaging my tired legs. It's been a half of the lenght of my lovely island! Like million of miles! And they say it's a small one :) I'm so unbelievably proud of myself!
It was really beautiful. All these ladies, dressed in pink, kilometers of pinkness. And I had a pink T-shirt on and a pink track suit and, trust me, that's not a colour I would normally wear.
Thank you so much to everybody who took part. Great experience!

I've been watching...

Last week, I had a pleasure to meet Al Clarke and Rachel Robey - the producers of a thought provoking picture "London to Brighton". I so admire people like them - people with passion and imagination, people having something to say and saying it out loud.
Here is the link to the official site: http://www.l2b-themovie.co.uk/l2b.html There you can find all the information you need. However, my advice is not to read the synopsis before watching.
The film is a tale about two girls. One of them has seen a lot and the other one has seen much more. (Don't ask me which one is which.) They have a problem. Something has happened and they have to deal with it. Can't tell you how the story goes as you definitely should see the movie yourself.
I’ve been told the film and the subject were controversial. And yes, I agree – but if that’s the case, then we need to admit that life in general is controversial. Because this feature is about life. Life without make up and costumes, life the way it is when something goes wrong and we find ourselves without anybody to help us. On the contrary, when something goes wrong, we are the most vulnerable and there is always somebody who will be happy to use it against us.
Great cast: Lorraine Stanley as Kelly – very convincing as a working girl and not the high standard one; Johnny Harris as Derek – a pimp who is brave only towards the weaker then him; Sam Spruell as Stuart Allen – he gave me serious shivers; and wonderfully perfect Georgia Groome as Joanne – cannot comment on that – she was sooo good (and twelve at the time!). They deserve all the awards they’ll ever get! It’s their performance that makes it so genuine.
The film has received very positive reviews from numerous publications but the one that says it all is from the “Big Issue”. Because if they find it worth seeing – it must be a real deal.

I've been receiving...

"I never spoke with God..." K.N.



I didn't have time to say that Blue Man Group is one of the best shows in the world to see, I didn't have time to say how shit some companies are, I didn't have time to read this awesome book; I didn't have to review Romeo and Juliet play I've seen in the Castle and I didn't have time to reply to my Friend's e-mail. Well, I'm trying.

Listen, Dear Friend, that's the problem with all this time stealing. You cannot steal anybody's time. There's one time and we are all sharing it. And that's all we are supposed to do. There is no point in being too busy to say something important or to reply to your Friend's letter. And if people do - they're shit! (a) I am being depressed b)I am being very drunk).

He said: "It's good that there is a blog to read; good that there is someone to write to; good that there is love that can be experienced; that there is a hand that you can get hold of".

He said that and made me feel silly and pointless...

But hey, isn't it what Friends are for?...

PS. Found it on Jonathan Carroll's website:


THE END OF PARADISE
by Jack Gilbert
When the angels found him sitting in the half lightof his kerosene lamp eating lentils, his eyes widened.But all he said was could he leave a note. The onewearing black looked at the one wearing red who shrugged,so he began writing, desperately. Wadded the messageinto an envelope and wrote ANNA on the front. Quicklybegan another, shoulders hunched, afraid of them.Finished and wrote PIMPAPORN on it. Began a thirdone and the heavy angel growled. "I have Schubert,"the man offered, turning on the tape. The one in blacksaid quietly that at least he didn't say "So soon!"When the ink ran out, the man whimpered and struggledto the table piled with books and drafts. He finishedagain and scrawled SUZANNE across it. The one in redgrowled again and the man said he would put on his shoes.When they took him out into the smell of dry vetchand the ocean, he began to hold back, pleading:"I didn't put the addresses! I don't want them to thinkI forgot." "It doesn't matter," the better angel said,"they have been dead for years."

***

Isn't that exactly what I meant?...

I've been recalling...

MASTURBATION

I have closed my eyes too soon
Only then did I realise
That living beyond the truth
Is not necessarily the option

I’m storming out of the box
Trying to deceive
Trying to forgive
Myself and them
The other them and me
Doesn’t work that way

First time I’ve seen his jaws
Clenched in this awkward position
But tonight last night tomorrow
Different story

The time has passed now
I’ve given birth to new wrinkles
Their sisters scars found my body their home

I pray

Pretending is what I can do best
Buying dreams measured in kilograms
Selling thoughts measured in millilitres
Lying that the skies are blue
And rainbows colourful

There is no faith nor hope
Engineers have altered the mechanism
I used to be quite a nice girl
Now all that is left
A huge pile of shit
And the Snow White
Dancing on my grave

I’ve been feeling...

How have you been? – they ask me. Are you feeling better – they ask me? Why can’t you do this/that? – they ask me. I am getting slightly fed up with the questions. Just for a change, I would not mind to get some answers.
Can anybody define love for me, please? Every year, every month, every day my view of the matter changes. When I was little I thought that the only love that exists is my love to music. I could listen and listen and listen. I still do, of course. Then poetry joined in along with the books. And that’s how it’s been for quite a while. Then there was a Friend. And that was the first human being with bones and flesh and touch. And it was a shocking experience. Love back then was defined by a telephone call at two o’clock in the morning and this three times older than me voice saying: have you been studying? And the hugs. I was fourteen when I was hugged for the first time by someone who didn’t want anything in exchange. And there were wise words. Not in a book, in the song but said to me. Pronounced slowly so I could understand. And that also was when I learnt that nothing lasts forever. Because the Angel went Home. And took my wings (the same ones that he presented to me earlier) with him. The only thing I had left were scars. That was when I was thinking a lot about: “Is it better to love and lost or never find out what love means?”. Now I know. Back then – I didn’t. I decided never to love again and became a stone. Or a veg rather. Till I was walking down the street in my town and suddenly saw these eyes staring at me. And that was my first time when I found out about the Adult Love. Adult Love was defined by a gold ring and wedding bells and by the divorce. And it turned out I was not an adult at all. He was. He could be my grandpa if he wanted. But I did not want a grandpa. I wanted his blue eyes and a cheeky smile. And I wanted him to be my teacher, not a traitor. So I ran away. I used to do it quite often so that wasn’t anything new. Now... Now love is defined by not knowing. There is somebody by my side. Not knowing is a part of existence, I guess. Love is part of relationship. I guess. Relationship is... Cooking, washing up, going to work, cuddling, kissing, having sex. If that so, why am I jealous if I hear him whispering this girl’s name while he's asleep? Funny thing – I can see his dreams, whether I want it or not. In these dreams, in the future – that’s not me he is seeing. That’s what defines not knowing. So here I am again, on some kind of crossroad, wondering what the best thing to do would be. I don’t want to go anywhere. But I will, if that’s what it requires.
My Mummy writes the most beautiful lyrics in the world and her latest album is sacred. Full stop. I love her. Yes, that is Love. There you go...

I've been travelling...

Just came back from London and have a whole load of things to say about that - enough for next fifteen posts. But... I'm still not finding time to breathe. I don't understand how the time can control us in such an easy and unlawful way. And we can't do anything to control it.

I’ve been panicking...

I’m having difficulty breathing. Trying to count but just can’t get the numbers in order. Tears are falling down on the ground without my knowledge nor agreement. Can’t control it.
When I was a wee bit younger, I had this huge poster on my wall, saying: “Hold your breath and count to ten, fall apart and start again.” And that’s what I’ve been doing. Holding. Counting. Falling. Starting. All the time, over and over again. But now numbers don’t make sense. They simply don’t add up. I’m confused. I’m scared. Scared to be, scared to think, scared to start again. Don’t know if I can cope, don’t know how to cope.
Sometimes (most of the time), I wish I were normal, looked like anybody else, was able to go to the beach and sunbathe in a sun. And I pray to the invisible gods every second of my life. Every other second I explain myself that I can’t help the state of things. Nobody can. But I still pray.
I haven’t packed my bags for a very long time. Extremely long. Before here and now, I would change the country of residence every three months. Since I was twelve. Now I’m here and now. And that makes me panic. I’m just not used to...

I've been looking...

http://www.chrisjordan.com/current_set2.php?id=7

Just have a look... What are we doing?...

I've been browsing...

I’m not sure if that’s a miraculously great thing or a really evil one but thanks to the civilisation we can find almost anybody anywhere, providing that they would like to be found. It’s a kind of a popularity contest: the more results your name gets on google – the more you achieved in your life; the wiser, more beautiful and wonderful you are – you are popular because you have written a book, directed a play, won some kind of a reality show competition, presented your naked pictures to the world, etc.
I decided to look for my school friends, to see how they are doing, what they are up to, what they look like now, if they are married – all the usual gossip. The funny thing was that I couldn’t find the people I really liked and used to hang around with. On the opposite side, all those whom I couldn’t stand were everywhere – their pictures, faces, names,… I couldn’t stand them before because they were so loud and screamy – you know, the kind that will come in to the classroom and will die if there’s at least one person who has not noticed them. The kind that will kill to get on the top, whose noses are brown due to kissing every single ass on their way up. Nothing has changed. I’m still sitting in a dark, cheap café, reading an awesome book, in my old jumper and shitty shoes, waiting for a friend to come and discuss Pluto’s caves. And they are still busy making sure that we (“the losers”) know about them and that we will get even more jealous that we (obviously) have been throughout our lives. Cheers to them! To the good old friends!

I've been wishing...

I've been busy...

Extreme ends of the worlds and people breathing at the hairs on my neck... That's why I am not able to post as often as I would like to...

I've been walking...

I've been writing...

I’ve been watching...

A few days ago I’ve been listening to the lecture by a Customs Officer. One of the subjects was smuggling drugs. Even though it’s something that we all hear about here or there – it made me shocked and extremely upset to learn about the “mules” and these who are in charge – ones that don’t even try taking any of the substances they sell because they know better. They make money, they steal, they kill. That’s what they do and they are very happy people. I wouldn’t care if they’ve done all the smuggling themselves – whatever... But they use people who don’t realise, who are not educated enough in the matter, who desperately need the money and who are generally quite naive.
Then I’ve watched a film – “Maria Full Of Grace”. A story about a seventeen year old Columbian girl (played beautifully by Catalina Sandino Moreno) whose life is turning upside down, who has to feed her family, who just found out that life can get even more complicated. I have never “felt” a movie so much before. Every second I was squeezing my man’s hand and I was whispering: “please...”
Life is full of Sophocles’ Antigonas choices. One has two ways to go – bad or worse. What do you do? We all make mistakes, all the time. The way I choose is to sit and think: a) am I going to hurt somebody but doing this? b) Am I going to hurt myself by doing this? c) Is that what my heart tells me to do? d) Is that what my brain tells me to do? Never does it happen that the answers are obvious. Well, if they were, I doubt there were choices to make.
I was wondering – what would I do in Maria’s shoes? I would get very depressed, for starters. But would I risk my life for money? No. Would I choose to stay and keep suffering? No. Maybe I’d become a prostitute, maybe an alcoholic, maybe... But there’s no way I would let some fucking twat, without balls and courage, smile smugly when I shit myself thinking if the little bag of cocaine in my stomach bursts now or maybe a few minutes later... Because my life belongs to me. That’s the first rule of choice making in Spiral Wisdom’s dictionary...

I've been mottoing...

1. Appreciate what's good.

2. Ignore what's neutral.

3. Reject what's wrong.

I've been reading...

In the book I'm reading at the moment ("One Pill Makes You Smaller" by Lisa Dierbeck), I found a quote: "To be an artist, one must announce: Screw you. I don't give a fuck. To hell with it. Damn you. Utterly."

Seems like I'm not an artist then... I underlined the quote with my pencil because I like it. Doesn't mean I agree with it. In my opinion, to be an artist means one must announce what one feels like announcing. I don't have to give a fuck but I can if I want to. Oh, I really don't like Van Gogh's "Sunflowers". Here- I said it! I can't understand them and I don't understand the fascination. Because of my lack of understanding, I went to see them with my own eyes. I was staring, I was searching for the genius - I couldn't find it. I am sorry.

And then, my Friend, Toni, gave me one of his sketches. Have you heard about Toni? Doubt it. I bet you've heard about Van Gogh. And I looked at Toni's sketch and I was mesmerised. I'm not going to describe it - look for yourself:

Toni Russo - and I don't know the title (sorry, Toni).

And in this case, I do not give a fuck about the "Sunflowers".

But then, there might be a "pop something". Something that "artists" don't give a damn about. Sells well but is not "poetic" or whatever. And the brave thing to say in THIS case is: I like it. Well, I will never say that I like James Blunt but it's OK if you do. Trust me, there are a lot of things that are not "cool" that I adore.

Being an artist is to admit that you like or you don't like something whatever whoever says. Being an artist is being yourself. Being yourself is being OK with being cliche (sometimes :) ), being independent in your thoughts, being brave enough to say: well, I don't think it's kitsch.

Since I've been a teenager, at school, they've told me: you're a rebel. And I laughed. Because I've never planned to be a rebel. Luckily enough - I lived in the places and times when I didn't have to rebel against anything. What's the point in being a rebel without a reason? Being cool?

I find so many so-called-artists that are trying to be cool by doing this or that, trying to be cool by not being cool... The point is - they keep trying. And trying to be is something I don't do - I just am.

If you ever wonder about the artist percentage in you - just sit down and think about how much you is in you. Don't listen to "the cool". Yes, it's good to have your masters. But it's better to say that you think that they are not right when you think they aren't.

Nowadays, too many of us are embarrassed to be real. There's no shame in being. There's no shame in feeling. There's no shame in liking James Blunt. Bless him.

P.S.

I carried on reading and had another thought: being provocative, by no means, is being yourself or as being "above". Being provocative "by accident" is fine by me - it's just another thing you say that people find a bit more controversial. But being provocative in a way that you think about it every day and every night and you just hope to appear in the world because you said something that the others would argue with - well, that's a piece of poo and you're losing your grip...

P.S. II

My blog has been banned by the place I work for. When you put the web address in, a little thing pops out. It says: "Access denied. Block pornography. You will be reported." ... :)

I've been clouding...

I've been reading...

“The pioneers of a warless world are the youth that refuse military service.” - Albert Einstein

When I was ten, I went on the compulsory school “trip” to Auschwitz – concentration camp in Poland. Among other things, there was this huge wall of pictures. Sad faces of the prisoners were looking at us, kids, as if they were still begging for help, for rescue, for mercy. I couldn’t stop staring. Shaved heads and deep holes where eyes used to be. Women, men, children, Polish, Jewish, Russian, young, adolescent, older... All sizes, all colours. They all looked the same. When I think about it today, after fourteen years since that day, I can still see them and make distinctions. I remember every picture, every blank expression. It makes me cry as much as it made me cry back then. It makes me even more terrified than when I was a ten year old girl who didn’t know much about life and death. My late Grandpa would show me a tattooed number on his forearm and tell me about the difficult art of survival. He did. Miraculously. Others did not.

I didn’t understand it then. I don’t understand it now.

When I had finished reading “The Book Thief” by Markus Zusak, I grabbed my hardback and held it tightly in my arms. I couldn’t stop crying. I closed my eyes and I saw The Faces. They spoke to me. They were angry. Sixty eight years later and nothing has changed, even though we all say that war is bad, killing is wrong, and Hitler was evil.

What is the story about? Is it about a young German girl who stole books to cheer herself up? About the War? Hitler? The Jewish nation? The Germans? Endurance? Friendship? Family? Words? Poverty? Hunger? Death? Life?...

It is a story about me and you, and about what we’ve got and what we do with it. How pointless are all our commendable acts in a face of evil and stupidity?! That’s what I call the war – Greatest Stupidity.

Not long ago I was writing about appreciation of life and how easy it can be to be happy if we only want to. If we just stopped fighting. Why is it so damn difficult? Why does the human race always want more more more?! Why do we loathe sharing so much? Why does friendship become more and more rare? Why do we let George Bush attack another country, another people?... Yes, WE let him do it. Because if everybody said NO, he wouldn’t have much choice. If there was no hatred in our hearts, there wouldn’t be pain. It so simple... But nobody listens. Yes, you agree with me now. But tomorrow you will forget. And I will forget too. That’s how we are.
Next time when you watch the news and you see another bombed house, another corpse lying in debris, don’t just sip your coffee. Please, stop for a moment and think what you can do in the small world around you to make it this little bit better. Don’t complain when somebody hurts you. Most of all, don’t hurt them back. Just bite your tongue and be proud of yourself that you have become a better person.

I know – I’m in your face now, almost like Coelho in his novels :) I’m just tired of all this shit, that’s all. And today’s blog is more to myself than to anybody else. So don’t get all frustrated. Just give it a go.

Thank you.

Oh, and read “The Book Thief”. It is so beautifully written, it grabs your heart and does not let go till the last page. Should be an obligatory reading at schools. Classic already.