Thursday, March 31, 2011

Broken pencil poetry. The tunnel of dreams

"Your condemned Impressionism,
Blending over my Cubism,
Let us bathe in Realism"
Lavi, "The tunnel of dreams", 2006
Look, I've just quoted myself again. I should feel like one of the classics now, sipping ambrosia and being offered nectar and ambrosia by critics from a silver platter. Yes? No, not really. The classics would spit in my face.

So would the critics.

Monday, March 28, 2011

Happy Birthday, Desiree!

"The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes."
Marcel Proust
This is one of the quotes that we find at the beginning of the virtual journey through a breathtaking garden. Our careful guide, Desiree, takes us on meandering stone paths, under tall shady trees and past lovely flowers and ferns. Here and there, a water fountain, a surprising copper butterfly. It is as if she has whispered gently to nature to help her turn her garden into such a serene place.

Saturday, March 26, 2011

"The cat sat on the mat"

I received a hard blow today and I must say it hurt.

Of course it's not the only one, of course it's not the worst. But it is one that shakes my little world in a very intimate way. It makes me doubt myself, hate myself, you name it.

And it's silly at the same time, of course. I'm not deluding myself, I'm an idiot for paying too much attention to this and letting it overwhelm me. But hey, I live in a very small world. Small things look bigger in a small world.

But let me take it from the beginning... Two beginnings, in fact.

Friday, March 25, 2011

Where birds fear to fly

You know the Chinese temples high up in the heart of the misty mountains. Or maybe you've read and seen artwork from The Lord of the Rings, where Rivendell is a big valley in the mountains.

Saturday, March 19, 2011

Bitesize fiction. The flower in the window

The light outside was growing dim and it was dark in the room. She lit a small lamp and set it on the windowsill. Next to it, there was a small pot with a tiny lily of the valley in it. Its suave perfume wafted gently in the air.

Everything was still in the room, in the house. The floorboards screeching, the wind bellowing outside seemed too familiar, yet so far away. The fire was crackling in the hearth, warming up the air and making the room seem almost less empty.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Bitesize fiction. Only the eyeless know

The sound of water dripping seemed awfully eerie in the silence. Added dampness to an already wet stone ground. Pik-pik-pik. Endlessly.

I couldn't move for a long while, listening to the sound, hypnotised. Where was the sun? I didn't dare open my eyes, because I knew what was expecting me. Darkness. I opened them either way, wide, peering into the endless black. I stared intently, not blinking, until my eyes hurt.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Digging out tattered old memories

She fell in her chair and dozed off on the desk in approximately half a minute, which, she would later have to admit, was a record. Everything was working just fine, she was just about to fight off a relatively dangerous nightmare, when a firm hand grabbed her ear and tried to extend it out of the known universe, pulling her out of the dream in the process.
Lavi, an unfinished story

Sunday, March 6, 2011

The old story about the pen and paper

Why do I write? Once, I thought it was because I wasn't very good at drawing. To be honest, it's more because I'm incapable of telepathy. There are thoughts and dreams roaming in my mind and I can't share them in a way that won't alter them. I often even forget them. In its own simple way, writing helps me record and transmit my own thoughts, at least in part.

Why do I write? Because talking doesn't come easy to me. I am barely learning to talk to people about things that are important to me. It helps to quietly formulate a thought before setting it loose in the world. I get nervous because of people's reactions to what I say.

Deşteaptă-te, române!

Today, I got an e-mail from mom about great Romanian people and their achievements. And about how they often get pushed aside or have their inventions stolen by other people. And we say it over and over again, that our country is probably the worst in the world. I would say, no, Romania can still produce wonderful people, but it all goes to waste when we are led by stupid and egotistic people.

It's no secret, because now, after the Communist regime, we can at least voice our opinion without getting arrested. But what we say still falls on deaf ears, I'm afraid.

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