our protagonist, living in vienna and leading a long-distance relationship with his budapestian boyfriend, stays in his german hometown over new year's eve because he loves the way it is celebrated there.
picture, how he is looking forward to spending time with friends very dear to his heart, hoping to move into the new year together with them.
as it turns out, everyone has other parties to be invited to; being keen on going or not, but going nevertheless. our protagonist is invited to join a gathering of people most of which he doesn't or hardly knows, while it quickly gets clear he won't enjoy it much.
it is the thirty first of december two thousand and nine. our protagonist sits on the living room floor of an empty house; the fire is on in the oven, the lights of the christmas tree are out.
a friend of his, visiting him for the earlier evening, just left to attend another party. so our protagonist sits here, with his bare feet, his tea, plugs in his ears, and blogs about his bizarre situation.
born out of the decision to spend this day of celebration, one of the few he likes, with friends and not his loved one, he ends up spending it with nobody.
to pass the time, he spends the rest of his evening before midnight with reading, or studying. for should he talk with the walls, or succumb to television? then later, before rockets soar up and the cacophony of scaring the old demons away fills the air, he'll march up to the fields, where he stood many a year with many different people, gazing over the cities and their skies filled with colour and flame.
thus he sees out the year of two thousand and eight; after all the good it brought and all the bad it held have passed with its strange and twisted last week.
with that, i bid farewell to that which was and await the things that have not yet come to pass.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Sunday, December 7, 2008
the countdown until christmas[holidays] is getting into the final phase. has there ever been a state without stress? well, it isn't that apocalyptic, but i'm certainly more than ready for holidays.
among the things that happened lately:
. the midterm exams of all three mandarin courses are behind me; and that with very pleasing results.
. a machine to dry the walls of my flat [remember the water story?] has been finally installed after almost two months of slow reaction and forgetfulness from the house management... celebration, though, it is not cause of, since this lovely machine blesses me with a sound almost identical to that of an old industrial vacuum cleaner [yes, those really big, really heavy, really loud ones]. it is so loud that at times i do not hear my mobile ring [my flat consists of basically one big room]. for about two weeks, this has to run basically all day, though i'm graciously allowed to switch it off at night.
. thursday evening some ingredient of the nice asian noodle soup i cooked must've been horribly foul. later the same evening, i was visited by the loveliest [read: most horrible] stomachache. later that night, around 4 am, i finally decided to get at least some of it out again, resulting in several close encounters of my head with the toilet, over the course of the night and morning. saturday morning, though, i wonderfully woke up with almost no stomachache and the paradisiacal feeling of hunger.
in other notes
i've updated the media section [a glance to the top-right part of this blog might enlighten you] a little, adding the transcriptions and translations to my sablung poems, formerly only available on youtube [where none (almost) of you lazy piggies (read: lovely readers) has yet commented...],
plus adding one brand new song!!! yes. check it out. now.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
this morning at 06:40 am, i had a beautiful dream. the reason i know this is that, though my alarm clock was set to 07:01 am, something dramatically pulled me out of said dream the very moment. and that obnoxious something was the sound of my doorbell.
before i proceed, let me elaborate a little on my doorbell. with intensity. my doorbell produces sound mechanically with, who'd have thought, a bell. imagine the sound in the middle between an old mechanical alarm clock and a mechanical kitchen timer, just much faster and much much louder. when i'm expecting a guest, i often sit at the piano to pass the last bits of time before that person shows up. then, when the person shows up and rings my doorbell, i usually die of a stroke, induced by the sound's brutality. some of my friends have even already stopped ringing and will knock instead, being familiar with my misery.
so: the ringing of my doorbell slashed my pleasant dreams apart in less than two nanoseconds. i have no concrete memory of the dream and the only thing i remembered and remember about it is the fact it was very pleasant. consequently, my first thought after my mind regained its ability to process information again was something along the lines of ASSHOLE. wrapped into my bathrobe, i stumbled over to the door.
upon opening it, i was greeted by a man in suit, carrying an important and very filled looking briefcase, with the words hello-i'm-from-your-disctrict-court.
HA! you might imagine me, slowly relocating my balance backwards, looking at him through my greasy eyes, with my arms crossed.
my reaction: yes?
him: i'm speaking to mr xyz [substitute random arabian last name], owner of the xyz [substitute random arabian name] firm?
him: [pointing to the number above my door] but this is door number three, isn't it?
me: yes. i live here since september 2006 [you might imagine how i surprised myself with the amazing ability to dig up this bit of information in my state at that moment]. i do, however, occasionally still receive mail for that firm.
him: oh. your valued name was?
at which i gave him my name, which he noted down, repeated the information i had given him, briefly apologised and went away. i myself went back to bed, which luckily had not gone cold yet.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
who'd have thought! enya released a new album.
every now and then, i search the net for artists i like but don't read about often; among them enya. the other day, upon starting itunes, i saw an advertisement of enya's new album and winter came. and right now, i must say it fits perfectly to the temps just recently finally falling down somewhat and fitting more to the christmas decoration appearing everywhere.
it is mid november, autumn seems to be slowly turning to winter, the year nearing its close. in a video about her new album, enya elaborates about the motifs therein, the process of turning inwards in winter. and that is exactly how i feel right now. time has come again to draw away from the outside and surface a little, to reflect.
surprisingly, enya incorporated some new musical elements into this latest album. among them even [brace!, brace!] e-guitars in one song. who'd have thought? but the general consensus of the album is absolutely enya again; for good and for bad. beautiful voicing, melodies that enable instant pleasant daydreaming. but why oh why does she never ever abandon her old and typical midi sound? why always pizzicato strings that sound just like on her first album, watermark, twenty years ago? apart from the few new elements and inspirations that go into each new album, she seems to constantly keep using the same [rather small] bank of instruments, most of which really belong to the quite general category of the general midi sounds.
of course, this is where much of her typical style comes from; but other artists show that you can actually keep your style while progressing to different instruments, or just gradually updating them and introducing new ones. so sometimes, when i listen to her new songs, i feel an urge to take the raw arrangement of it and just replace some of the traditional enya midi instruments with new sounds, new instrument recordings. but oh well, if she really did work on this for two years, as she said, then there is no way she just keeps using those old instruments out of lack of time [and certainly not out of a shortage in money].
all in all, and winter came delivers what it promises. an enya album, sounding like enya, about a different subject. and listening to it, i absolutely experience the effect it is meant to have: i get all christmassy.
lately, i was busy making plans to move together into a beautiful flat with 2 friends of mine, which we finally decided not to do. so even in the worldly sense, i busy myself again with accommodating myself in my current flat again, making it the most comfortable refuge i have, for the moment, one more time.
summer always happens so fast, and rushes by so quickly. many things happen, and many things did take place in this year's summer. but only afterwards, in autumn and winter, we can and do take the time to reflect upon them, to look back from a little distance and cherish the true value of what happened.
i welcome the winter spirit.
on other notes, i recently read sony stated they're not even halfway where they want to be with the ps3. that, of course, leaves room to a large degree of speculation. what do they imply? the ps3 having much more functions than now; it being bugfree; significantly more high quality games; more prestige? obviously, the speculation goes on an on, but is basically limited to software realms since, yeah, that is how it is.
in another article i read the same day, the author was musing about sony trying to imitate apple in having must have gadgets and, you know, generally being the sleekest stylish brand...blabla. what struck me, when i read that article while listening to music on my ipod touch, was simple: sony needs an appstore for the ps3. all claims about how technically superior and flexible the console is means nothing as long as we don't have a vast variety of functions waiting to be used.
implementing new functionality into the ps3 operating system with every firmware update is wonderful, and even the majority of other applications sony offers [mostly free of charge] like life with playstation are a welcome addition, but somehow it all just feels too little. just imagine the vastness of creation that would ensue if the ps3 actually had an appstore people could apply and develop for. like apple's iphone/ipodtouch appstore, it'd give you everything from tiny widgets to full grown programs, ranging from entertainment over information to even music creation.
the recent rumble about little big planet and the joys of being able to create your own game in this game with an unparalleled vastness of creative options shows how much the community as a whole longs for the ability to create.
so i say give the users an appstore integrate into our psn store. release sdks for development, not to make our own ps3 games [go on keeping the rsx locked, if it pleases you] but to create functionality and entertainment. it'd be relief for sony from the stress of having to churn out all innovations by themselves, having to please every user's wish on their own. and give us shiny tiny icons of stylish [useless] applications...
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
time seems like a train without exits sometimes. there are windows from which i can get a quick glance of the things whipping by, but hardly a way to get there. however, as you see now, i've taken a bit of time to write a bit about these days.
after so much of holidays over the summer, coming back to university seems like stepping into a completely different life; and different self. suddenly, all the things you occupied yourself with during the holidays break off, are withdrawn into the background, as the universitary workload kicks in.
weeks suddenly seem so long, so full of things. every friday, looking back i feel like a whole semester passed. often in the evening, i find myself thinking about events i suppose happened the day before or even further back, while they actually took place on that same day, which just seemed like two days to me because of it being so filled with things.
in all honesty, i've overburdened myself a little; but now there is no turning back. and at the same time, out of some masochistic motivation, i'm eager to see how much i can take. how many languages can you learn at the same time? how much learning can you take in one week? how much do you minimize your private life?
of course, there are still other things. there are still islands of bliss with sweetlove, when he visits here or i visit him in budi. there are also little videos i'm still working on, cgi projects, music. but all those things i do on weekends, when i shell out some time from the preparation for an upcoming week to relax and recover a bit. make no mistake though; i've chosen this lifestyle, and i'm highly motivated to carry out my plans.
edit: i forgot something i wanted to write about. namely the fascinating sideffects of my workload. as my brain seems busy rearranging and making new structures for the memorisation of another language, my forgetfulness is increasing. there is only so much a brain can take, i suppose. but obviously my lifestyle very easily allows memory leaks in fields i'm not looking at for a few moments.
on the subject of videos: does anyone know a decent free video editing software he or she can recommend? microsoft's video editor is almost paint for moving pictures.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
imagine the following: you go into your bathroom, at night, wanting to brush your teeth and go to sleep, when you notice a strange smell. you tilt your head upwards and find, to your amazement and horror, a huge dark patch of moisture has formed up on the ceiling, and several small ones on one of the walls.
the very sight i had last night. over the course of time until now, the patch has grown to occupy most of the ceiling, causing the wallpaper [why on earth must there be wallpaper on the ceiling?!] to ripple curiosly. the patches on the wall have more or less united to ...one big wet wall, which is, as i am writing this, beginning to turn yellow.
clearly coming from above, the cause of this doesn't seem to be found easily. in the flat above mine, nothing seems to indicate the water's source being there, were it not for the clear layout of the house making quite sure the source has to be there. in about half an hour, the plumber will be here and then, i hope, we'll sort things out.
i have updated a section of my website. in the course of this, the former unused and empty section music has been remade media to include not only music, but also video. as usual, you can access it via the navigation on the right side of this blog, or simply surf to the mainpage and make your way from there.
so far, two videos garnish the newly born section. one of them is tarüven karas, which i presented in my previous post, and the other is vochnahi, another poem i recorded yesterday. feel free to check them out and, of course, share your thoughts.
i have become an iPodBitch; thankyouverymuch. a few days ago, my shiny ipod touch 2G arrived and has since then become one of my best friends. well, unanimated friends. you know, i can be lonely here.
instead of loading crap music on it and flinging it around everywhere on the streets, i intend to use it as a pda to, among other things, help with translation. for that, it has already proven very useful. so far, i have a grand offline chinese dictionary and an online-fed dictionary that supports hindi. all i need now is sanskrit and tibetan; but of course, that'll be a bit more complicated to get. i am pondering the app wedict, but then i don't know of the availability of any tibetan or sanskrit dictionary files in the stardict format. so i'd have to gather and convert some. we'll see.
furthermore, obviously, i'm all for cool apps. meaning: innovative music creating and the likes. bloom has already given me a wonderful time, but obviously i'd love something more... substantial. rjdj is already on my radar, but so far isn't supporting the ipod touch 2G, but if you have any suggestions or news, not only regarding music apps but innovative ones in general, please share them here!
i guess that's it for now. have to get back to translating and preparing for tomorrow evening's poetry reading. moist greetings.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
as may be obvious, i acquired a little camera and am having my first bits of fun with it these days.
inspired by the great hexocain's video performances of own poetry, i here try the same game myself.
also, classes have started again on monday, and that takes me deep down the rabbit hole again. amongst the usual classes of tibetology, tibetan, hindi, sanskrit, etc, i've begun chinese language classes at the department of sinology. my monday has already been blessed with a first language laboratory class. oh the fun of rows of students sitting with headphones and blabbering their first chinese sounds. sadly though, my two other chinese classes this week have been cancelled due to the teacher being ill...
moreover, there is even more poetry around the corner. next thursday, our institute blesses itself with an evening of sounds of love, presenting love related poetry in the languages of vedic sanskrit, classical sanskrit, malayalam, hindi, nepali, and maybe urdu.
obviously, every work will have a translation so the fun of the evening doesn't just consists of the tea and samosas afterwards. a dear friend of mine is going to present excerpts of a famous poem in your mother tongue, malayalam, and together we're preparing the german translation, which i'll be presenting.
would any of you be there, you might find the evening delightful and interesting, but since none of you can, there is actually no reason why i'm advertising this here.
cheers, more later.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go,
Cause I'm leavin on a jet plane, my yesterday was spent at the airport. coming there at noon, i was told an airplane had plummeted off the runway and thus caused the whole airport to be shut for incoming and outgoing flights until the site was cleared. they told me to listen to the announcements, while waiting at my gatenumbereleven, for our flight might be delayed, or cancelled, or we might be taken to another airport.
as i sat and waited, a great variety of flights of different airlines were cancelled, and some others taken to different cities. about the flight to budapest, however, no information was to be heard. around two, they told us we'd get information at three. at three, they told us to wait for news at five. before five, we finally got food vouchers, after having waited for hours already. shortly after that, while i was standing in the infinite queue to get something to drink or eat, our flight was announced to have been cancelled. it was five pm.
now, instead of spending the last days of my summer holidays at sweet love's place, i'm back in essen for a few more days. as all flights for the next few days are full, i decided to take a train to vienna on monday. the finally last long train ride of this summer. in this moment, i am all alone at home. all friends have other plans, family is out and this is when the pain of not spending the much anticipated weekend with my loved one hurts the most.
Already I'm so lonesome I could die.
otherwise, i'm in my grieg period, piano wise. having learned lyric pieces' first song arietta a few months ago, i decided to try and learn the opus from beginning to end. in the last weeks here, i made my way through the first waltz, the watchman's song and have now reached alfedans, the dance of the elves. what a stunning little song, that sends my fingers breaking off my hands and flying across the room every time i practice it. learning it will be a long way.
[lyrics: John Denver - Leaving on a Jetplane]
Thursday, September 18, 2008
this is fiction.
the doorbell rings and i'm in the cellar, searching for a glass to store the mint that dried outside. summer is waning, and soon autumn will creep into the dried leaves; better find a container to store them before that.
crouched before an old locker, a bathroom locker put down for ever in a dark corner, and searching its innards in the vain hope of finding a forgotten preserving jar, the doorbell rings. and i know who has come.
cellar leaves a fine dirt under my socks, which i've never inspected though often imagined. i open the door and there she stands, sil, in all her very usual appearance. she greets, shying a moment of awkwardness away, and i react according.
"such a beautiful weather" and "everything is redecorated", she exclaims into an uneasy silence as we proceed to the living room. me, carrying a tray of tea, her, carrying a bag and a red sweater; we both tiptoe past the history that lingers behind our foreheads. sitting down into an uneasy situation, i busy myself with the tea.
"i had a dream; there was a rosary. someone must've lost it right there on the floor in front of my door. and i left it hanging on the knob, thinking the person might come back and find it there. the dream forwarded and i stood in the little shop on the corner, carrying a pot full of soup, and asked the guy wether this rosary - at which it dangles from my hand, unbelonging and completely out of place - by any chance belongs to his wife."
she never shared her dreams. once in high school, i remember, we had an argument about people telling their dreams. never, she said, would she share her dreams, for they are too personal to her and besides, they're so chaotic she doesn't understand them herself. so why tell them?
so why tell them. where does this come from; why now does she tell me her dream? i sip my tea, she sips hers, and a silence muffles everything around. like this we sit, each trying to appear deep in thought. the uneasy silence has found us, and my thoughts drift back to the dried mint, the preserving jar, the old bathroom locker in the basement. autumn has arrived, summer has ended.
Friday, September 12, 2008
it never stops feeling peculiar and strange, getting back home here in germany. even though i've put a lot of distance and development between myself now and back before i left, it still entangles me very much.
nowadays, though, it feels different. maybe, finally, i've become so else that the things don't seem to fit to me that much, anymore; don't seem to affect that much. rather, they hunt a self i was what now seems a long time ago, and it seems i have gained distance from that me. i'm glad.
sorry for not beginning with the promised chronicles yet, but somehow writing doesn't seem that fluent these days, and besides being lazy about preparing the pictures i don't spend a lot of time on the pc. last evening my mother and i went to a splendid organ concert, the majority of which was very inspiring - most of all reger.
wow; my blog has had a visitor from kazakhstan! come out, come out, wherever you are and share yourself - talk to me!
Monday, September 8, 2008
heute saß ich am klavier, nachdem ich eine endlose ewigkeit von mehr als zwei wochen an keinem klavier war, und da schlug wieder einmal die ganze riesige unbegreifliche schönheit des instrumentes über mir zusammen.
today, after an endless infinity of more than two weeks without a piano, i sat at mine; and at once the vast and unbelievable beauty of the instrument washed over me.
i'll be updating soon - in the next few days - with the chronicles of our journey. so be patient and stay tuned until i sort out the pictures...
Friday, August 15, 2008
|Wandel; ein Trugschluß |
Statik; eine Illusion.
zu benennen vermag es
der jenseits von Beschrei-
since about two weeks, i'm in budapest at sweet love's place. while he works, during the day, i myself might either sit at home or meet with friends. when being here like this, there is
nothing only few things better than having a permanent metro-pass and being as mobile as i want to.
so, after my arrival, we went to buy me a student discount monthly ticket, which is cheaper than a non discounted 14-days ticket. at the ticket office, my charming hungarian interpreter asked the girl on the other side of the glass if i, as a student from vienna, am applicable for the student discount. at this, she leaned sideways, looking for something. as mon traducteur later told me, he thought she was checking his very question while it turned out that the thing she actually did was checking wether vienna is part of the european union or not...
these days, i spend most of part of my time with looking at train schedules, rail connections and hostels. you, dear reader, might have guessed right: we're going interrail!
since i [paranoid sauerkraut-eater] didn't support our plans to go to istanbul anymore (at least in the current situation), sweet love [brave puszta-rider] reluctantly agreed to do this instead. and now, next tuesday, we'll kick of our journey from vienna to venice and then further up and higher until we reach oslo. on the way, hopefully, we'll meet up with friends and make some new acquaintances as well as not die from exhaustion.
it might not seem like, but i'm getting really excited about the whole thing and i dare say the count at my side also begins to feel a little bit agité about it.
our itinéraire, as it stands now, is the following: from vienna (austria) to venezia (italy), from venezia to fiesch (switzerland), from fiesch to paris (france), from paris to ternaard (northern netherlands), from ternaard to københavn (denmark), from københavn to røyken near oslo (norway) and finally from there back to budapest par avion.
in venice we'll hunt pidgeons, in fiesch the aletsch-glacier, in paris crêpes, in ternaard the sea, in københavn the tivoli and in røyken fairies. of course, this plan is open to change and enhancement...
anybody sitting lonely in one of those locations? now is the time to speak up or stay quiet for ever (or at least until one of us gets his hand son interrail tickets again).
for now je vous embrasse, but i might write again
before we leave.
Sunday, August 3, 2008
recently, i've been thinking about the songs i play on the piano, an instrument which i play since about eight or more years. due to never having had lessons, in contrast to my sister [her being the reason there was a piano in the house, to begin with], my development was quite different to that of a normal student of the piano.
there are several songs which i've been playing since almost the beginning of my endeavours. having them under my fingers for so long, developing each by nuances, they have a thousand implications to me. a song, thus, is not just an entity in music, but a kaleidoscope of memoria and emotion to me.
in the beginning, almost all of the songs came from games of the final fantasy series. i played them not only for their musical value, but also for their personal emotional imprint. each time i played them, i remembered scenes from the games and how i had played them with friends.
with time, i learned more songs from other parts of the musical universe, and the memories connected to them range from strong emotional anchors and cues to small things like sentences someone said or the weather on a day i played the song. by all this, the songs have become larger than themselves. as a matter of fact, many of them i do not play for themselves anymore - as they might feel to kitschy or simply not so much my taste now - but rather for the things they carry. for the journey i take when playing them.
this journey is each time a careful tightrope walk between music and thought. even in the pre-piano days, when i had lessons in playing the recorder, i always had quite a handicap in reading score. though this has gotten somewhat better lately, it had a large impact on my development on the piano.
some people thought, i'd be talented enough to play everything from audio-memory. much less exciting and talented, my way was always moving through the score of a song at snail's pace and very quickly memorising it by heart. learning to play it at normal speed would then function mostly from memory. looking at score while playing a song mostly disturbs me so much that i fail to carry on playing.
now, i'm not telling this to boast about my memory, but because the fact i play every song by heart means that my mind is relatively free to wander while i play. this, though, is the ridge walk: i have to let my mind wander freely, to some extent, in order for my fingers to play properly [from their own memory]. but the moment my mind wanders too far and i start actively thinking about the things i think about, the memory of the song is disrupted and often i have to start all over from the beginning [or beginning of a passage] again.
thus, my journey during each song is mostly a movie being played by my subconscious, with the conscious mind carefully being silent. and that is the ground on which all kinds of memories and associations come up and float by my inner eye.
in one song [phillip glass - opening; koyaanisqatsi ost], at a certain passage, i remember telling my ex about how i like this part [and certain triad] to which he replied that he already noticed that. with another one, i remember a close relative telling me, on hearing the song [which then i only played with my right hand], that i should play it on the person's funeral; it being a funerary song [nobuo uematsu - aerith's theme; final fantasy VII ost].
i remember places that i've played the individual songs in, or the persons who ever listened to me playing them. i remember how sometimes my fingers trembled, and then my fingers tend to begin to tremble once more, just from the memory.
also, i look back and see each song today as a long development over all the years. some, for years, i couldn't learn properly and only somehow completed. nowadays, having learned their score from beginning to end, finally, the songs have come a long way.
much like my book of thoughts [i do not keep a normal diary] which my sister gave me for my 18th birthday, four years ago, i often wish to finish these episodes and move on.
the book, after all these years, still has a great many empty pages. but all the things it holds, though dear to me, often are an unwanted weight on me - something i'd like to finally close and put onto the bookshelf, to only take when nostalgia strikes me. each time i write in it, today, i desire for a fresh start, a fresh book, but of course i'd never leave the rest of the pages remain white and unwritten.
so, just the same, the songs stick to me like a skin with many carvings, and only very slowly i add new songs to my repertoire for which maybe, slowly, an old one might fade from memory. it is a process slower than my own growing, like a retrospective view in slow motion that i carry around with me, willing or not.
do you play? what does it mean to you, and what do the songs you play hold for you?
Saturday, July 26, 2008
i'm back in germany since monday and am slowly recovering from the iceshock. honestly; after incredible 14 days of italian sun and heat we came back to 12°celsius and rain.
seriously; death! after the initial torpidity, i moved on to depression and considering hibernation. the temperatures, on the other hand, climbed up up up and reached something between 20 and 30 celsius these days, sprinkled with thunderstorms and everlasting rain. oh, bright new european summer.
then today, coming home from the countryside with my mother, where we visited old friends, we had the infinite pleasure of meeting a summery hailstorm. oh, the noise of hailstones bigger than golfballs hitting our car, the storm shaking and shaking it, the rain whizzing by horizontally and the water on the highway rising to the height of the tires.
you might imagine our situation, you might imagine the fright with which we sat, awaiting the windowpanes to crack. just less than an hour before all that, we were on the highway in traffic jam, the asphalt shining with heat and the sun warming the polluted air around us as we walked between the cars standing, waiting for traffic to move again.
now now; there are good things, of course. there is music, there is my flute and the piano. paolo conte sings in my ears like a voice from some distant planet; having been the music of our trip to italy this year. un gelato al limone, gelato al limone, gelato al limone...
also, my dreams are interesting lately. besides sex with friends and others, i had a curiously peculiar dream about killing an evil wild boar that had the body of a huge fish with an evil long-teethed head on each side of his body, instead of any fins. due to the fact of him being unable to move on his own, as the dream was set on land and the fish being able to breathe air since he was a wild boar, i had to carry him around though being in a fight with him and with my mind set to kill the monster. later, my best friend seemed to hold the monster while i took a snake, lying around on the ground, in the neck [so as to not me bitten] and used her as a whip... in what ever way that might have helped me against the boarfish.
finally, i think i must've killed the evil boar somehow, though i don't remember. and before that, he told me some strange things about a little nearby brook running with blood instead of water on some day in the past.
better than endless dreams about old friends and misery - which might have finally left me, after all these years.
in paolo's words:
|(what do you expect |
look your life
your life is just like
like a blank sheet to fill,
turn a page over
and listen to what i say)
pretend, pretend, pretend,
what are you asking from life
the ship flows smoothly on the sea
the thirties run on the century
you read a smile
printed on somebody's story
walking on somebody's dream
just called from somebody's wish
what you want
what you want
pretext, pretext, pretext
how many trees in your mind
a jungle that you like to cross
a way to reach yourself disguised
if its first class
call me and i will be leading
call me and i lead the way
call me and i take your hand
if you please
if you please
pretend, pretend, pretend
what are you asking from life
the ship flows smoothly on the sea
the thirties run on the century
you read a smile
printed on somebody's story
walking on somebody's dream
lust called from somebody's wish
what you want
what you want
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Kieselrauschelnd stranded ein Morgen in
Wellen; der Tag, am Himmel hoch, erstreckt
sich jung und blau; das Dorf erwacht.
Da stürzt, aus Laubendickicht wilden Weins,
ein Falter jäh herab; schlägt auf und zuckt
- 3 lange Momente - das Leben aus den
So starrt er leer in einen Tag; so ist der
Körper ihm erstorben. Da wird es Nacht
in Flatterlings Gehirn; die Dämmerung
zieht auf, die Welt rückt fort und fern.
Es liegt ein Falter auf dem Tisch, den
Flügel steil zum Himmel; der Welt entfallen
ruht er dort und sucht ein neues Licht.
Monday, June 30, 2008
today's date, june 30th, marks the end of this year's summer semester. with my last exam today [hindi] behind me, my view is resting on the three months of holidays ahead of me and all the things those encompass.
first things first: packing. i have rather strong dislike for packing; not that i'd hate it, or dread it, i quite simply don't like it. this time around, packing means planning ahead [packing ahead] for two months, as only in the beginning of september i'll get back for a couple of days to my flat in vienna. between now and then lie many journeys and quite a number of countries. still, i decided to stick with summer and hope for the best, packing lightly.
packing lightly is my current mantra, anyway, as i'm trying to end my habit of travelling with everything i can somehow carry along and will never need or use during my trips. instead, i want to live a simple life and enjoy the destination rather than all the convenience and clutter i used to bring along. so far, i cannot tell how effective my endeavours are, but here's for optimism.
soon soon soon, on wednesday the second of july, i'll be leaving vienna by train. until then, my flat has to be put to sleep and all loose ends tied up.
as usual, the joys of everyday life master the art of picking the exactly right moment of appearing, as did the leak in a pipe coming out of my bathroom ceiling, wetting my walls. luckily, only two days after contacting my landlady and the house's plumber, this problem has been fixed. anyhow, with this matter taken care of, i look back at the last 4 months and in retrospection, wonder how the semester could pass so quickly.
before even properly diving into the subjects, it seems it's already over again, with 3 months of holidays there to wipe any acquired knowledge from my mind again [with tibetan being especially easy to wipe out of my memory, it seems]. on the other hand, though, the feeling of finishing things is always one of the biggest rewards of the each semester. when in the last weeks i'm having exams and last lessons, it is a joy to write down one score after the other under my timetable and know that there is one thing less to worry about, one thing more that is already finished.
but what, actually, were those things?
quite simply, my timetable can been divided into two parts. the first being language courses and the second being language lecture classes [to clarify: reading of (old old) texts]. the obvious lack of content other than in relation to languages simply stems from me finishing all the classes left needed to finish the first phase of my studies; that means: i'm halfway through.
my language classes were modern tibetan and hindi, both since the winter semester of 07/08. two days a week of language training and after these less than 8 months i'm able to talk about my holiday plans, my daily routine, where i live, what i did in my childhood, how i celebrate christmas and so on. sometimes, i look back with wonder and feel the excitement and joy of suddenly being able to converse, even on a basic level, in such different languages.
the the text lectures i did were in classical tibetan [whose language class i finished 2 semesters ago] and sanskrit [the language class of which i finished last semester]. in classical tibetan, we read excerpts of various texts about the history of western tibet, all basically describing the same events and thus being very repetitive. sanskritwise, i did one reading of texts on pramana [buddhist epistemology] endangering me of developing brain tumours and one on kavya [sanskrit poetry] which, at times, was uplifting, and further trained my rhythmical reading of this intrinsically rhythmical language.
also, as the only thing except languages, i visited a lecture of the social and cultural anthropology department [ethnology], together with a friend, bearing the charming title of funeral art. sitting there out of pure interest, i didn't aim at taking an exam and simply enjoyed hearing about funerary rites and culture in various regions all around the planet.
now, with today's hindi exam finished, i have nothing left to worry about from this semester. all the courses are finished, all exams taken on their first date; i'm free.
i'll enjoy that while it lasts.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
after writing this, i'm unsure wether or not i should post it. not because i don't think the matter is less important than i thought, but rather for the fear of my own opinion and feelings about it might be misinterpreted. i'm not a child in the zoo, fascinated by the animals in the cage. i'm a living being, marvelling at the facets of the living world and also marvelling at the limitedness of our perception.
some of you might not know, but back in school i spent a great deal of time with pedagogy classes. personally, i strongly dislike using that name for them, for i think it conveys a false image of them, but i'll go with the name now.
for those who don't know, the german school system [back when i was schooled] allowed for an almost highschool-like specialisation in subjects during the last 3 years. that meant us choosing subjects, in a limited range of possibilities and dependencies [if you choose a and not b you have to also choose c]. out of all the subjects, everyone has two majors, with which you spend a larger amount of weekly hours and thus specialise into the subject, and those were for me english and pedagogy. from english class one couldn't really expect much more than literature education with some cultural studies. pedagogy on the other hand was blessed by a very dedicated teacher and i can say it is probably the subject in which i learned the most valuable things [to me] during my whole career in school.
much more than just pedagogy in a strict sense, the class' content was about a wide range of psychology and education. we learned about a variety of educational concepts, school systems and not only read but discussed a lot of research and view on both mental and physical disorders and disabilities. again, words that i don't really want to use in this context, but i guess they convey roughly what i mean.
thus, i am naturally very interested in what i stumbled across, a few days ago:
over another blog, i found an article that changed part of my view of the world. i don't intend to gloss or comment the article, so please take some of your time and read it [at least the first page] and be sure to watch the embedded video.
now that you've read it, i assume, you might understand or imagine what i am referring to. autism and asperger's have always been of great interest to me, or i should rather say: the people who are labeld as such. this sudden [for me, that is] and so very direct view through the eyes of an autistic person created an avalanche of thoughts, for which i am truly grateful.
to get a view on the nature of such a very different mind, not from a scientist or therapist but the person herself, usually seen as mute, unable to communicate or locked in their own world shatters what we [i] think of ourselves and anybody around us.
imagine you'd be someone else. but really, imagine! often in my life, i've tried, tried to picture what it would be like to see colours differently with the eyes and brain of someone else. to hear the same things differently, to think in different ways... i've always wanted to swap brains for a day. or at least the receptive parts of the brain and somehow keep enough of my brain to get experience out of the whole endeavour. anyhow, i'm getting carried away.
imagine, our spoken language [and i'm referring to all spoken languages as one here] is just one single method of communication. just one. and there are so many more! take children born deaf for example. they don't grow up mute. they might grow up audibly mute, but that doesn't mean they don't develop language just as we do in our early childhood. the brain simply uses other methods to form a mother tongue, in that case often sign language. but that image is still fairly easy to comprehend for us; since it only replaces spoken words with gestures. now imagine it'd be altogether different, not only the method of expressing your language, but also the mode, the recipients, the semantics [or being rather freed of what we call semantics].
imagine all the things we, the normal people, don't notice; aren't aware of; have no reception of; have no access to... imagine how rich the world is, beyond what we notice.
as in so many fields, human variety and difference is simply so much bigger than we usually think or perceive, in our societies protecting themselves by propagating ideals and model states. how could this work, if every single human would be given the same respect and importance, however different they might be from the norm? the systems in which we live now couldn't take such a divergence and variation in thought, skill, appearance and communication.
but that is exactly what we should strive for. that is exactly what we all should help people like amanda baggs in. to try, with each one of our little hands [each having a different shape, different skills and different weaknesses], to make a little crack into the stiff fabric of our restrictive societies.
of course, one might rightfully say that there are as many inequities as there are human beings, and each of them, i am sure, is absolutely worth dedicating your energy for. however, each one of us has the choice for which ones he or she acts, and as i pointed out, there are things that have always been dear to my heart, as there are things dear to the heart for everyone.
just like with the tibet issue and many others, which occupy my thoughts, the best first step is telling people about it. because, really, there is such a lack of knowledge and information in this globalised world.
that is the simple reason for which i wrote all this. not to show what an amazing and caring and oh-so-concerned person i am, but just because i want to give you the chance to know.
and who knows, you might be interested, you might be caring. or you might be just interested but caring about something else. or you might not be interested in the whole subject, but interested in many other things. all is fine, but choice is silver and knowledge, however little, about these things is gold.
in case you do care and want to get active, i guess referring you to amanda's blog should be enough to get you started. from there, i'm sure you'll find your paths with ease.
a new image, how thrilling. head over to the gallery to check it out with description and large version, if you like.
also, i'm wading through the exam period and so far it is going rather well. three more exams to go, modern tibetan on thursday, classical tibetan lecture on friday and hindi on monday; with sanskrit lecture and another hindi exam already being behind me since yesterday. soon soon soon, i'll get out of here, leave the bad air and noise behind me and woosh through the european continent from here to there. more on that later.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
a deserter on the front of battle, i raced through the streets of little dutch town to escape the hordes of german soldiers and their rifles. it didn't matter anymore how i got there in the first place, all that counted was i now had made myself their enemy and with that a prized hunt.
still surprised by the number of personnel following me, joining the others from side streets and front doors, i spotted a little pub not yet closed down, filled to the brim with drunken khaki coloured men. somehow, i made it into the line pushing into the bar and took cover in the crowd. wrestling through these men, too drunk to notice me as a chased enemy, my way was out the back door and onto a train passing there.
headed to some eastern european country, it was my big chance for escape, or my big mistake into yet another captivity, provided i'd make it past the border.
how strange to suddenly have had a dream about world war II, to which i don't have much of a connection. i never even played one of the many WWII war games that could've inspired this; who knows where it comes from now.
after that dream there was something about a family that was preparing for group suicide, the parents being the first and me, as their son, desperately trying to stop them
Thursday, June 19, 2008
11pm is approaching and i feel like wrapping up the day, which started last night with its first minute, greetings from a good friend from germany, and me opening letters. then in the morning, calls from my family and a refined surprise at my door, text messages and comments on my student profile. wishes at the university, classes, tea with a friend and ice with another, later another phonecall and cake at home with two others.
my day turned out quite the right balance between no festivities and some celebration, just the way it is fitting for me these days. a good feeling to know not to be forgotten, to receive lots of mail [real mail] - wonderful things from wonderful people.
my eyes are tired and so is my head, the exams are approaching and i can list enough things i should prepare to not have enough time left. but for now, i shall not think of them and enjoy the closure of this day, go to bed and gently fade to the land of dreams.
have a hug everyone, if you'd like, and some birthdayloving.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
while i myself am gearing towards the end of the semestre and therefore this summer's exam period, the dear kaisercity is boiling with lovely: rkang-rtsed po-lo [for those sadly and ignorantly uneducated in the language of tibetan: football].
what could be a better background for studying than singing [roaring], crying [screaming] or rejoicing [wildly honking] devotees of the game of foot and ball? i can hardly imagine better things than gently being sung in and out of sleep by these charming folks 5 hours before the alarm clock will drill me out of coma once more. well, there might be some things; some few.
apart from all that jazz, among making and remaking plans for the future of my studies i make and remake plans for this summer. being somewhere between your loved one and your family, one on each side, can be rather tiring at times. where to go when and how, for how long and which first are questions that need answers which are rarely satisfying all interests.
furthermore, i hate packing. this time, i'll take two pairs of underpants and maybe shoes. so anybody interest might come looking and might hope being lucky before friends and family might cover my expressionism.
also, my dearest love gave me an utterly magnificent moroccan silvery teapot for my not-quite-yet-birthday, out of which i shall pour rivers of the world's finest teas down my willing throat. and maybe even allow guest one or two drops; we'll see.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
so, yesterday sweetlove [who is residing in my den, almost like people do in a normal relationship (read: non long-distance), studying the days away for another round of his law bar exam] and me saw indi 4 - crystal scully.
did you know harrison ford recently had his chesthair waxed on tv to protest against deforestation?
[indiana jones theme fades in]
from the first minute until the last, the movie delivered what it promised: indiana jones action. not only did harrison ford seem in amazingly good form for the movie, but also did stephen spielberg.
[enter: irina spalko a.k.a. cate blanchett]
oh, the fun of it! stalin's rapier razor fatale irina in her perfect outfit with perfect hairdo, mutt's hair, ox's poncho... to me, the movie finally suceeded in being not only an hommage to the old ones but faithfully transporting the indientertainment into a new period.
[enter: conehead crystalguy]
at first [and later, at the end (hinthint)] i was somewhat let down by the lack of inventive new design for the plot's main objective, until i realised how perfectly that fits in. why make up yet another otherwordly design for gods/superhumans/crystalskulls when all the movie is about is legends being somehow more true than the average person [read: average professor of archeology] thinks they might. so finally i was happy spielberg chose the designs and ideas he did and to be honest: i want more.
[indiana jones theme fades out]
where's my hat? where's my whip?
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
so, i've progressed far enough with my redesign to enable access to my website again. nothing there is rigidly final, so anything might change, and quite probably will.
you may enter through the front door [clickyclickyclicky] and enjoy some voice, or sneak to the appropriate section via the navigation on the right of this article, though that will exclude the joy of the front door. it's up to you, cherrypies.
together with this, i've added one new image to my gallery: p is for play. that is from a shooting not long ago, and one or two more should follow eventually, just like some pieces in the music section as well as the texts in the words section. right now i'm still pondering about where and how to host my music, youtube doesn't appeal to me that much since it requires video. any of you know a youtube for music, with players that can be embedded?
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
oh, rain. in 2006, when i moved to vienna, the simple lack of rain in this city didn't cease to amaze me for a long time. nowadays, i got used to this meteorologically favourable zone. i always liked rain, to a certain degree, and certainly rain in summer; so when it does rain here, most of the time i'm happy about it.
on the other hand, though, i don't use public transportation but go everywhere either on foot or by bike. rain isn't really a problem on the bike, whereas snow can get really uncomfortable, when it isn't too much. today, it rains. and it rained a lot. going home from university in the afternoon, it rained so much i came home quite perfectly and thoroughly soaked - i don't even remember when i've been wet down to the underwear the last time. once you're wet and still in the [heavy] rain, it can even get pleasant, provided the temperatures aren't too low. everytime i stood at a traffic light i enjoyed the water pouring down on me, it had something very free and equanimous, in a good way. when you're moving though, the speed cools your forehead and hands to a degree that can get rather unpleasant.
after i got home, placed my bike on a towel, got out of the layers of soaked clothing [not an easy task sometimes] i curled up under the blanket and faded into a wonderful dreamless sleep of two hours.
now i'm up, i've eaten, am drinking tea and feeling really quite peaceful. when was the last time you got soaked in the rain?
Sunday, May 18, 2008
some days ago, sitting on the danube island amidst trees and birds, on quiet grass, i busied myself with tibetan vocabulary. after entertaining the birds and bees with that for some time i took out my hindi book to learn and review some things from the last lesson.
in reading a chapter about future tense and presumptive, one thought of annoyance echoed in my mind: always these indogermanic languages. how refreshingly different and surprising tibetan is, in contrast to the structures of languages belonging to the indogermanic family, for me.
of course, especially working with sanskrit never ceases to be amazing, but i guess the grass is always greener on the other side. what's your favourite language; do you have any?
on another note: i recently discovered [yo-yo ma's work with] the silk road project. a musical diary of travels along the ancient silkroad and the dreams arising from that. truly an inspiration for me, these days.
Friday, May 16, 2008
do you remember your dreams?
a good way to do so is starting a dream diary, sticking with doing it even when the only thing you write into it is that you have nothing to write into it. you'll see, soon another life of yours will become visible.
i've been on and off writing the diary for more than a year now. it's hard to keep on doing it after some weeks, when you feel you basically remember most of your dreams anyway. so you get lazy again, stop writing them down regularly, and eventually your rate of remembering falls again. but writing just after waking up, early in the morning when i have little time before university anyway is tough.
anyway, last night i had a fascinating dream, in which i had a horse [i don't really know where i got it from]. still living in my flat in vienna, the horse stood in some little room on ground level in another building, being accessible form the street. now forward some time and my cousin [who has a lot of love for horses; maybe i got the horse from her] visited, or rather first i was somewhere with her. she seems to have lived close to some forest where we both rode on horses and talked, when she told me she'd come and visit me in vienna. skip forward and i'm back in vienna, suddenly panicking because i realised i had forgotten my own horse! all dressed up with saddle and gear i left the poor creature in its little room, without food or drink or company. since it was a dream i have no idea how long i left the horse alone, but i knew it might have been too long for it to even survive. oh the horror, of thinking what i did to the poor thing by forgetting it and then the fear of my cousin's looming visit and explaining her why a) the horse is in such a bad condition or b) is dead.
i woke up before i made the walk from my flat to the horse, so i still don't know wether or not it survived. in my prayers, though, all horsies survive being forgotten by idiots.
yesterday i saw some posters for special lectures about freud and his dream analysis at the university, but sadly they where already held last week... i'd have loved to check them out and maybe get some insight as to what horses might stand for in dreams. any ideas?
Saturday, May 10, 2008
walking over a pedestrian bridge crossing over the eastern union drive freeway, watching the midday sky and foggy lights, a familiar sound reached my ears: cars crashing into each other. down a few steps on the other side i stood and watched the row of twenty cars, all crashed into the others' trunks, and more coming in regularly. a city jeep was pushed up by the cab behind it, half rolling over the frontman's roof half trying to break free on the still magically empty right lane when i spotted the first few flames underneath.
the inevitable followed - some got away quick enough, alarmed by the first explosions, but most of them were soon tumbling through the air, ablaze and black, out of the billowing smoke and onto the opposite lane. a young businesswoman, in green miniskirt and high heels, having stood next to me watching the chaos intensify, dropped her coffee-to-go with the words Oh.My.God! and ran off back towards the skyscrapers.
all this ballett, that whole spontaneous choreography, without my lifting a single finger.
greetings from liberty city ---
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
when i was a child, a long long time ago [insert irony] i used to both dream and believe being endowed with the mystical and hidden forces of magic. however, there was one huge drawback, that in the course of time got more and more clear to me: i was like a bad luck charm.
seriously, i began to think that not only would i generally bring bad luck to the people around me, but more specifically every good magic i tried to weave would twist itself into something more or less opposite and certainly bad for either me or people close to me.
long did i carry these thoughts, long did i try to train myself not to allow the thrill of anticipation for my magic or fate would certainly do something to keep me from whatever i anticipated. clearly to me, the more i was longing for something, the higher the chances of it suddenly and inexplicably going out of my reach.
puberty came and my mind and body were busy with many other things and battles far away from the living magic of my childhood. as i saw the world as generally against me [i guess i'm not talking about anything unknown here] i had other reasons and mechanisms to deal with anticipation and disappointment.
later, i somehow got closer to the magic of my childhood again, though very differently, of course, and it changed me again. i gave up searching for strange and mystical reasons and simply tried to accept the course of life and the fact that we can never understand all factors that determine actions, happenings and luck or bad luck around us. one could say, i got somewhat optimistic, over time.
yesterday i wrote a blog entry motivated by the anticipation of my playstation3 coming back from repair today. anticipation; oh, the thrill of it.
i waited this morning for a call from the store, which never came. then i called and was informed that the console was there and ready to be picked up. so i headed out, made the few steps over to the store and the friendly assistant went off to get my precious.
after standing there for what seemed like a very long time he came back, empty handed, and asked for my papers because he couldn't find the console, even though the system said it was there. another half eternity followed, in which i watched disney / pixar trailers on huge tvs and listened to an old couple buying wireless headphones to watch tv in bed with. the assistant came back, empty handed again, and told me my console simply wasn't there and he had to call the headquarters about the situation. after assuring me he'd call, he turned to the next customer and i walked home through the fog of my disappointment.
some hours later, terribly annoyed by the lack of calls from the store, i went back to inquire about the situation. two times, the nice-eyed assistant said, had he talked with the headquarters and they had no idea how my system got lost on the way from the to the little store. he assured me they were on the issue and told me he hoped to call me back this afternoon with results.
i walked home over the shards of my shattered day.
less than an hour ago, i began to get uneasy about the shop's early closing hours, my mobile rang; finally. charmingly-voiced assistant told me happily and shortly that the headquarters decided it wasn't my fault and he'd give me another ps3.
so i went over again, got a new ps3, new insurance papers and my smile back. right now, the system update progress bar shows 56 percent and i'm already happy i managed to connect to the internet so much faster than last time [i.e. weeks]. soon, my dears, i will vanish from this day and fade into the world of GTAIV, maybe to return sometime tomorrow or else into this crazy world of anticipation, magic and fate.
Monday, May 5, 2008
let's be unpretentious for a while. let's be honest.
we all don't live an ascetic life, well don't live up to the morals we set out with into each new year. my point is, we're not as holy as we want to be. or anything. weakness comes from not admitting weaknesses, we should all confess we're nothing more than human.
anyway, the point i'm trying to make is simply that no one will ever be a balanced and whole person if she or he doesn't accept and embrace all parts of her or his personality.
what's the use of sitting in yoga class five times a week when half of the time you're dreaming about movies, or food, porn or shopping. the only thing it does is make you unhappy with who you are, because you might be able to hide your allegedly dark sides from others but never ever from yourself. stop pretending.
i'm not a friend of extremes, and in this i agree with the buddha's middle way; but even he promoted an ideal that is far too ascetic and extreme in my eyes. for imagine, everybody would slowly but surely walk on the path of strict religious life and exit society as nuns and monks, ascets and saddhus, siddhas and prophets, wise women and wise men... there would be no society anymore. and who then would repair the monk's window, or provide nails for doing so? who would donate food to monks or ascets, who would keep streets intact, provide energy, anything?
this doesn't seem to convincing to me, honestly, and never has. there must be a better way, which truly lies in the middle an doesn't demonise any side, doesn't fall into ironclad social rolemodels. what is needed is not refinement through separation and specialisation, but through integration and foresight. i wonder if our heads will ever be big enough for that; but i surely won't stop trying.
incidentally, and this is my motivation for writing this down today, tomorrow my playstation will come home from the repairs, which means i'll finally play the game i've been looking forward to so much. today, i'll play the flute, study and meditate, tomorrow is for gaming. the wonderful thing is, i remain myself both days and see, that neither of these things corrupts or compromises me or my aims.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
today is the extremely rare occasion that the austrian national holiday falls onto may the first. while that means having one day off less, it also means, well, having two at the same time.
my usual participation in this is passive, though in this country i've come to learn that already is quite a spectacle. from germany i was used to first of may [day of the work] being basically a buffer for all those who danced into the may the night before. an elegant solution for everyone not to loose their job.
but not so here. it's quarter past eight in the morning, and i've just had the day's first marching band pass my window, and believe me that that is far from anything you could ignore in your sleep. seriously, their valiant drumming made me fear for my windows. of course first thing crossing my mind were curses for my neighbours, who are renovating since half a year and usually starting at 7:30am, but this time it was simply the procession in the distance, coming closer.
imagine you're on the streets,
demonstrating for more men in the kindergardens and fight poverty, etc. etc. etc. and you're enforced by a professional marching band and children with whistles, doesn't that sound like gathering attention? but when this stream of people - demonstrators, children, balloons, posters, marching bands [yes, plural] and the much needed ladies at the very front with their handy portable beer barrels around their torso and breadbasket in their hand [hello austria] - passes the streets at 8 in the morning, i'd question the receptiveness innocent bystanders.
this is austria, and it never ceases to amaze me.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
since many a year i've happily had marital sex with the piano, all autodidactic, to which now i've added desktop sex with my brand new flute. while i must lay emphasis on the flute being traverse since recorders i've played quite enough in my life now. those three darlings decorate my wall since about two months. these days, my lips only touch silver [fake silver, that is].
when i first picked up the flute, that time at a friend's, it was magical. generally, i'm mad about instruments and could very well spend fortunes on them, but then there are some which are even more special, and the flute, i've come to realise, certainly is. when my own instrument arrived, shortly after, and i unpacked it with trembling hands, the sheer joy of touching the instruments, laying my fingers down onto the taps was so immense, it reminded me of the joy i get from doing the same thing with a piano.
since then, i'm in love with all the simple and charming melodies i extract from the piano songs i've been playing for such a long time now, and every tone seems to get an own new world of meaning with an instrument that is not polyphonic and yet perfectly lovable.
how amazing music is, ever and ever and ever again. listening, it takes me through time and space, emotions and memories. playing it seems better than breathing, sometimes [a rather queer association when playing the flute, yes] and just doesn't seem to loose its fascination.
my dream is, to live in a house [yes, already a dream] in whose every room there shall be at least one instrument, all of which i will at least have command over to an amount of producing music with fun. naturally, my plans on the distribution of instruments to those imaginary rooms varies from day to day; not to mention the realisation of the actual house.
anyhow, what does music do for you? of some i know, of others not. which part does it take in your life, active or passive, both or none? for how long have you been conscious about it, selective about it, explorative about it?
on an important sidenote: i've realised commenting wasn't available for anonymous persons which, i guess, might have scared many of you kitties off. so now anonymous posting is open, but please at least take the effort of signing with an inventive alias, if not your name.
now clickyclickyclicky on comments; the doctor has asked you a question...
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
let me get one thing straight from the beginning: i love videogames. they've been part of my life since many years, and while i play them with the regular enthusiasm and many of the widely popular ones, i've already been interested in those that have that special something.
today marks and important day all around the world, for the gaming community. internationally sychronised [a recent blessing in the market], the massively anticipated grand theft auto IV launched. magazines and portals united, untypically, to shower a seemingly endless amount of laurels on this game in their lenghty and juicy previews and reviews.
it seems as if all the gaming world were happily rejoicing the arrival of one of those milestones far too rarely seen nowadays, but alas, that is not completely accurate. all the world is happily rejoicing except me, proud owner of a ps3 system, who is these days getting screwed by father sony.
about a month ago, on the last day of march, my playstation 3 broke, causing it to become unable of reading any optical media and thus incapable of playing games, music, dvds, etc.
the next day, i marched to the electro store next door where i had bought it back in the end of november, and sent it off to repair. since then, i'm waiting. and today, i just got a little more painful.
Monday, April 28, 2008
vienna - this city filled with baroque, palaces, tourists, posh and savoir vivre - has a heart of black velvet.
just before i moved here in 2006, people told me i'm moving to europe's capitol of suicides. after an absolutely impressive first autumn, rather reminding me of summers in my hometown, i wasn't much in contact with the viennese morbid mentality until very recently getting an interesting update on this topic.
a visit to the vienna funeral museum led by the professor of an ethnology lecture i'm listening in to this semestre [promisingly titled 'funeral art']. while said lecture aims at the subject of funeral rite and art in other cultures, said professor seems perfectly taken by vienna's black heart, being the leader of that peculiar museum.
in the course of our tour, ranging from the beginnings of pomp funebre in vienna until the grand funerals of empress zita and, who could or would [or would want to] forget, falco, our charming guide mentioned an interesting rule of thumb for living in vienna:
for artistic people, it takes about 6 months of living in vienna to have the vast subject of death filling their creations.
he himself, as he said, being born at the border to switzerland and having come to vienna to study art, knew every graveyard and funeral after about two semesters of studying. go figure.
with funeral trams, corpse alarms [rescue me from apparent death!], endless funeral processions and europe's second largest graveyard one thing is clear: the viennese loves not only self-dramatisation when alive, but so much more when dead.
as for me, i think i'm still rather on the side of the living. but who knows for how long. certainly, this provides me a charming new insight into this remarkable city's ways and oddities - these are the things that make living here a daily nasch.
as for business, guess which urn-model is the most popular in vienna? obviously and unfailingly the charming porcelain made model sisi. this year's european football championship inspired the clever minds of the design department to finally throw piety out of the window and outdo themselves by creating the fitting, perfectly lifelike football-urn. on a sidenote, the model still awaits its first purchaser...
enjoy your days while they last.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
together with redesigning my homepage, i decided to switch my so far rather modest blogging to a proper blog, probably absolutely certainly inspiring me to post vastly more often.
on the right of this remarkably handsome post you find a remarkably handsome and welldesigned [i.e. non designed] navigation that takes you to the other parts of my homepage. nevermind everything being a completely different design now; the new version will come when it's ready.
apart from that, i don't have that much to say for now. just one thing to give you an excuse for commenting: what is your take on pornography? how do you make it fit into the pattern of your spiritual and moral design? i might elaborate more [i.e. aimlessly write] about this later on. cheers.