din ciclul "lectura e lumina"...

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walking talking inspiration(S) 2

I didn't quite get to finish my thoughts on the last post... Picture this... a rather drafty Thursday evening in Venice. We're heading back from Santa Maria del Salute through Sestiere San Paolo. On the way back we got lost in this enchanting maze of small streets and bridges over narrow canals. The natural light was shyly making way to that of light bulbs and street lamps. The city was putting on its nightgown. Bars and coffee shops were just starting to wake up as street and souvenir shops had been long closed. It was 9 o'clock and if you stopped on your tracks you could catch up with this ancestral quiet that Venice keeps sacred at certain times during the day. The streets we were walking by were getting smaller and smaller, closing in around us in a manner that could become frightening for anyone that doesn't really know Venice and how incredibly safe and care-free this city is!
Suddenly, somewhere across, at a faint distance, above the rooftops, just as a signal or a strange cry of faith meant to draw near the lost pilgrims of arts and creativity, classical music exploded over the Sestiere. It was a vibrant piano forte and probably some accompanying cello. Instinctively, perhaps even spiritually, our steps shifted in this musical direction. We went through a tunnel sort of street as an archway opened up over a small canal. Small boats were parked to the right and left banks of the canal and quiet 2 or 3 story Venician villas were stretched on either side. At the foot of the bridge, after its crossing, we discovered the source of the sound. It was as if someone was playing the piano right there, from the inside of the ground floor of a villa...
There was a strange sort of passion accompanying each musical note. We drew closer only to discover what we thought was yet another souvenir shop with glass figurines and ornaments. It was in fact a souvenir, glass workshop. The mad artist behind the music was not a piano player but a glass crafter playing a CD of inspiring music. He was in the middle of his creative act stretching glass into a neat, long black string across a constant flame. A few minutes later he used this to decorate some 5 or 6 pairs of ear rings. I took a look in his shop...wondrous decorations were for sale and I wanted to buy one. I didn't really want to buy a souvenir but a special time capsule that will immortalize this moment forever. A man and his passion in the late hours of the evening, stretching out across space and probably time, across rules and sound barriers, across the preconceptions of the Italian proverbial laziness or of the souvenirs' questionable authenticity. It was a form of pure expression... it was himself...in essence. I was almost afraid to stare at him working. I tried to make my eyes walk along the walls and shelves on which his work was exposed. It was as if looking at him was an act of invasion...invasion of privacy...of his private, creative intimacy... something that even though exposed could not be meant for wondering, ignorant eyes alone. That night I bought a special glass locket for my mother. He carefully placed in a box with a string lace wrapped around it, thanked us for our purchase and closed the shop behind us. He headed in the same direction we did for a while...so I got the chance to ask him if the shop would be opened the next day. He told me the schedule and walked away in a hurry.
I came back at daytime the next day, hoping to catch another glimpse of him working and buy a few more glass-works. He wasn't there..there was just a lady at the counter selling his products. Strange enough, I wasn't disappointed. Somehow it was to be expected. I realized that which we had experienced the night before was unique and too special to be revealed to all - a one-moment-in-time!

walking talking ispiration(S)

I would like to dedicate this post to people living, breathing, heart-and-spirit filled people living by their own rules and in their own way. People who have made "doing what they love" thier religion and credo in life.

curious growing pains

E ciudata senzatia unei usi care ti se inchide ....atunci cand nu ti se deschid altele...
In cautarea unei chei universale care sa-mi deschida si sa-mi inchida toate usile atunci cand am EU chef, stau ingesuita intr-un colt din noul open space, unde nu exista usi si toti stiu de amantii oricui sau de diferite afectiuni medicale, programari sau opinii politice ale colegilor de birou. Open space-urile ma inhiba ceva teribil...lipsa de intimitate nu ma face decat sa-mi doresc mai multa intimitate...nicidecum sa ma apropii de ceilalti colegi sa ne "mingle" si "bond" like all the cool and trendy people of the world. Nu stiu, poate asa sunt doar eu...defecta...si restul lumii chiar da rezultate in urma acestui masuri de HR. Oricum circumstantele prin care am ajuns aici nu tin de niciun fel de schema de HR, singura schema de HR pe care incearca s-o aplice sefa ema este sa ne tina pe toti aici , cu joburi platite inca la zi...lucru care in astfel de vremuri de criza (cand apar coltii si mojicia din orice colt) este admirabil!
In afara de mutarea asta de pion ratacit pe o tabla de sah, zilele astea insa am avut tot felul de revelatii stranii, in sensul ca am realizat lucruri pe care toata lumea le stia probabil deja... dar pentru mine sunt noutati. Genul acela de "noutati" care ar trebui sa ma fac mai intelegatoare si mai inteleapta despre mersul lucrurilor in societate, dar de fapt...nu fac decat sa ma bage mai mult in ceata.
Sa le luam pe rand...azi de dimienata...pe la ora 8... ma trezeste din somn o roboata pe telefon sa ma informeze ca am fost aleasa pentru a castiga suma de 3000 de euro, tot ce trebuia sa fac fiind sa-mi notez un numar de telefon la care sa sun pentru a intra in posesia "piciorului lui Dumnezeu" pesemne. Am zis ca in obsesia mea de a castiga 3000 de euro lunar a inceput sa visez situatii in care i-as putea obtine, asa ca i-am dat si lui Adi receptorul sa asculte... Nu...nu visam intr-adevar femeia ne dorea tot binele din lume...daca aveam pix sa ne notam numarul.
In alta dezordine de idei... am dat de un joc pe facebook care ma ajuta sa promovez in cariera...momentan tintesc spre editorialist de Vogue, dar trebe sa-mi cumpar o geanta smechera de firma ca sa ma lase sa candidez la post. Din nou, invataturi multiple se pot trage si din asta...
Am aflat de la o prietena insarcinata (aici lucrurile chiar cred ca erau deja stiute) ca un copil tre sa stea cu curu'n sus ca sa iasa usor din pantecu mamei. Logic nu? What do we learn from this? Ca de la primu contact cu planeta Pamant si realitatile ei te apuca pandaliile!!!
Cand iti pregatesti o evadare-concediu de mult timp si o astepti cu nerabdare...fii sigur ca o sa ploua...dar fii sigur ca vei fi un om mai bun, mai calm si mai putin frustrat atunci cand reusseti sa te simti bine si in sau in ciuda unor astfel de conditii.
Prietenii mi se plang ca sunt batrani la 25 de ani...eu la 29 ma simt deja ca la 40...cred ca orasul asta e de vina sau voi fi egoista si voi zice doar ca e vina mea, fara sa las si altora ocazia sa-si asume ceva...Ciudat este faptul ca aceeasi priteni se plang ca nu resusesc sa se maturizeze: "cum cred ca cresc..pac..ma loveste ceva in cap". Pei as zice ca daca nu te ridici esti mort, daca te ridici si zambesti esti clar mai batran, daca te ridici, zambesti si pocnesti la loc esti mai tanar si clar...mai putin frustrat :D Ceea ce va doresc si dumneavoastra!

forms and expressions of love

As LOST as you get

Ce sa va mai spun... oare nu s-a spus deja tot ce putea fi spus? Romania este tara oamenilor omnipotenti si a parerilor pertinente, a potentialul imens, dar nevalorificat si a poporului neindreptatit si asuprit care nu a avut inca timp sa-si vina in fire. Hai sa va mai spun una...un megaaa secret: BULLSHIT! And man oh man does it stink!
Suntem pierduti frate...pierduti pentru/printre umanitate...Da ma includ... fiind in perioad mea extrem de confuza, mi-e foarte usor sa identific sentimentul pe fata oricaror dintre noi. Incercam sa ne agatam de o farama de realitate pozitiva care sa ne restituie o senzatie de minim control asupra propriilor vieti...dar realitatea este ca momentan plutim intre sfere si emisfere, intre moralitate si trivialitate, intre interese si bugete, intre spirit si ceea a ce ne-a mai ramas intreg din corp... De constiinta nu mai poate fi vorba, de aia oricum nu mai vorbeste nimeni demult! Ma tot uit la Lost...don't ask me why!... (preocuparile mele de la serviciu lately se invart periculos de aproape de absurd)... si imi dau seama ca...fara voia lor...scenaristii aia au prins ideea frate! Oameni sunt LOST. Ca e pe o insula indeparatata sau in apropierea celor mai familiare locuri, ca e in propria viata sau imbarligat fara scapare in viata altora...suntem cu totii LOST! Unii au noroc si supravietuiesc cateva serii, altii se pierd instant din prima si mor...poate nu asa vizibil si dramatic ca in Lost, dar mor pe interior...isi pierd visurile si ambitiile, se simt trisati si invata sa joace dupa alte reguli pe care si le fac si le desfac dupa bunul lor plac.
Inainte credeam ca cel mai periculos om de pe pamant este prostul fudul (genul acela de om care nu se lasa pana nu ajunge cumva deasupra ta ca sa poata sa-ti scuipe in cap, nu e ajutat de propria inteligenta, dar apeleaza la alte ajutoare la fel eficiente, daca nu si mai si). Acum imi dau seama ca mai exista un tip de om periculos... cel mort pe interior...o carapace de om care nu mai traieste decat pentru satisfacerea materiala a propriul corp, un Ghita- Faust care nu mai are nimic de pierdut, care a invatat ca spiritul nu are ce cauta in mahalaua de glod si hartie a "societatii moderne". Poate un spritz, doua...dar nu spiritul, nu sufletul.
Poate ca sufletul trebuie educat, curatat...chiar si in absenta unei minti stralucite...dar cum? Noi romanii...poeti...avem nevoie de curatire...noi cu o mostenire genetica atat de bogata si imaculata! "Nu domnle...e restu' care strica... Guvernu', tiganii, birocratia sau simplu fapt ca nu-traim-in-Italia-sau-Spania....unde aia acolo asa au avut alte conditii si circumstante"...nu-i asa? Nu prea... Eu cred ca romanul si-a pierdut spiritul, e pierdut, pluteste aiurea intr-o realitate paralela cu cea a sa. Genetic am fost conceputi gresit, nu ne-a placut usa de la biserica sau intr-adevar am avut conditii prea vitrege pentru ca sufletele noastre sa se dospeasca frumos. Nu stiu motivul. Cert este ca am trebui vaccinati...Daca in loc de vaccin pentru gripa porcina sau alaturi de el...dupa caz, ni s-ar administra ceva si pentru spiritualitate, o directie in viata care sa tina de acea nevoie primitiva din noi de a fi fericiti intr-o lume fericita...cred ca numai asa cumva ne-am putea redobandi suflul si sufletul alaturi de care sa ne simtim iarasi binecuvantati si doriti pe acest pamant. Nu stiu care e solutia... dar aud ca mai e inca o serie din Lost pe vine...din ianuarie 2010. Cine stie...poate ne-or livra-o baietii in episoadele viitoare!