13 December 2013

Oh the unspeakable things.

Unbelievable how inspiring are heartbreaks. I've always loved all those exaggerated, dramatic, poetic lyrics about love, loneliness, break-ups and sorrow, even when they came from cheesy indie or pop-punk bands.
All those metaphors about dying, bleeding, shooting, waiting, leaving and letting go, breaking of hearts, souls, lives and minds, where things are never, forever, always, too late.
First, as a teenager I thought "well, that probably happens, when you find a love of your life and it collapses, like, once in your life".
But as the time went by, I've noticed, that all my love stories are the same way dramatic and I could use the same words to describe it.
I mean all of them. And I had to wonder if artists who wrote those songs are a special kind of people, who extraordinary tend to endure emotional sickness or experience enchantment and passion towards beauty and love and have to express it by writing, music or other art? I guess there are plenty of people, who don't experience those complex emotions and suffering/passion and live emotionally calm lives, never really sad but maybe also never really happy.
But long before that I thought about it, I also started to write, like it was the most natural need. Like an automatic reaction to get over emotions and feelings. I had to write down the pain and the beauty which was overflowing in me.

But for a long, long years I thought that how I see the world, with all those extremes is just a normal way of dealing with stuff and can't be any different.
But maybe those kind of people get into all those troubles, because they can't deal with life properly and can't build healthy relationships, that's why happen all those sad things they later write about. And as a positive aspect: they can find beauty there, where others don't see it. In the end even the worst nightmare can be beautiful and touching when you describe it with passion.
I believe that for those like them relationships have to be extreme emotional, otherwise it's just not worth it, even though it usually ends up in pain and tears on the knees.
Not because they're so unlucky, but because they can't make it right without hurting themselves and others, getting dependent or distanced, lost and confused or ruthless and cruel.
For those like them love is also a million colours, smells and sounds, words and whispers which have have a meaning so deep, that you can feel them on your skin and emotions, which fill every landscape, street and weather.
Music you love gives it a breath-taking flavour and pace and connecting all those sensations together make the heart beat faster.
For those like them the mid-state is just a phase between one amazement and another heartache. Or both at the same time if you wish, nothing is impossible, heart is endlessly capable, isn't it?
And in the end how would it be possible to survive the darkness, when you wouldn't be able to see all this amazing beauty and then make art about it all!

For those like them. For those like me..

Last months I went through hell of dying relationship, the hardest one I've ever been to. We loved and abandoned, hurt and soothed, promised to and let down each other so many times, that it eventually burned down to the ground, until there was nothing left, just cinders and rain.
I also went through the break-up post traumatic syndrome with all possible features. From broken, bleeding heart, burning jealousy and pain so hard that I couldn't breathe, lack of sleep and eat, falling down to my knees crying for relief through never ending nights of talks and days of silence, until the final blow, breakthrough and relief.
I know that it's not over yet, but I'm rebounding.

I write this all sitting on the bus going through whole germany to visit one of the best friends I've ever had in my life.
And at the most beautiful sunrise I rush through the most beautiful landscapes full of wonders of European early Winter, the sights, frost, clouds and fields, until the sunset of this one short Winter day.
And the music comes with me.

And I know, I need to leave this past, the same way as I left other pasts behind me, both good and bad, one after another.
I have to put myself together again, but it won't be the same me as before. Some things died in me on the way, too fragile to keep them alive.

This song I found in your room and it enchanted me. You wanted to keep it for yourself, but it was too late. I stole it and I'll love it as all the beautiful songs that gave me strength. as something I reclaimed back from you. "This place I go, the land I see for miles" is somewhere where I'm heading to. I plan to be happy there.


Dark Dark Dark – Daydreaming

Think of a place I would go,
I’m daydreamin’,
Where the sycamore grow,
I’m daydreamin’,
And oh if you knew what it meant to me,
Where the air was so clear,
Oh if you knew what it meant to me,
Anywhere but here.

Oh now look to the east,
Great mountains remember me,
Oh I wound around you for miles,
I sat down right there and stretched my bones.
And oh if you knew what it meant to me,
Oh if you knew what it meant to me,
Oh if you knew what it meant to me,
You would see, too.

Oh the unspeakable things,
It’s land I can see for miles,
With only the wind whispering,
Land I can see for miles,
With only the wind whispering,
Oh land I can see for miles,
With only the wind whispering,
Oh I’d run as fast as I can
Land I can see for miles
Oh I’m searching,
With only the wind whispering,
Oh if you knew what it meant to me,
Oh if you knew what it meant to me,
Oh if you knew what it meant to me,
You would see, too.

Oh the unspeakable things,
Oh the unspeakable things,
Oh the unspeakable things,
Oh the unspeakable things.

18 November 2013

the grass was greener

I love Autumn. This year it was so generous with mild weather that it was reminding me all the time about my visit in Portugal 3 years ago. When everything seemed so easy, I was freer and happier than ever in my life and I was standing at the ocean shore enjoying the moment of taking the first step into the new, fantastic and exciting life. That was so long time ago.. When the grass was greener and the light brighter and the friends were all around me.

I sometimes feel like I lost so much energy on the way to the place where I'm now, and although I still carry this beautiful world inside me, it's harder and harder to feel it, reach it see it's warm light.

Another Autumn with taking pictures, I feel though, that they get more and more sad. Just as if my dark and foggy mood would pour into camera.

I also love weird videos, like this one, which is so sad and beautiful at the same time, that gives me creeps.
Pink Floyd "High Hopes"
As I was editing the pictures I've noticed, that they remind me so much about this song and video. And once again, very special video from my early youth, one of the most inspiring I've ever seen. And I guess I don't have to mention, how the lyrics fit my actual state..

I feel like I would just came out of this video, straight out of this autumn fields, but those are those fields I saw on a bike trip and took pictures of some weeks ago in the North of Germany.
The good times are gone, friends are far away and I don't have the new ones, loves ended up in debris and disappointments, plans whether didn't work out, or brought no fulfilment. Energy, will and mad joy that filled me like this golden-pink sunlight from the video faded sometime, that I've never noticed.
Of course I still do my things, start even new ones, I read a lot, I'm active, I quit my unsatisfying job, I educate myself, I look for the new solutions,paths to follow, plans for the future. I have to be happy somehow, not needing to worry about food, house, basic freedom, chance to fulfil myself. I'm damned lucky, I must say.

I carry on. But the light is gone, I'm calm and cold, tormenting myself with memories of home, warmth, love and all the unfulfilled promises I gave to myself.
And waiting for the great loneliness, that will soon and unavoidably come.

Please enjoy the pictures. Please leave a comment if you only read that.

Beyond the horizon of the place we lived when we were young
In a world of magnets and miracles
Our thoughts strayed constantly and without boundary
The ringing of the division bell had begun

Along the Long Road and on down the Causeway
Do they still meet there by the Cut

There was a ragged band that followed in our footsteps
Running before time took our dreams away
Leaving the myriad small creatures trying to tie us to the ground
To a life consumed by slow decay

The grass was greener
The light was brighter
With friends surrounded
The night of wonder

Looking beyond the embers of bridges glowing behind us
To a glimpse of how green it was on the other side
Steps taken forwards but sleepwalking back again
Dragged by the force of some inner tide

At a higher altitude with flag unfurled
We reached the dizzy heights of that dreamed of world

Encumbered forever by desire and ambition
There's a hunger still unsatisfied
Our weary eyes still stray to the horizon
Though down this road we've been so many times

The grass was greener
The light was brighter
The taste was sweeter
The nights of wonder
With friends surrounded
The dawn mist glowing
The water flowing
The endless river

7 October 2013

Postcards from Sweden

Despite the fact that south of Sweden is notorious for bad weather, we had only one rainy evening during our trip. I spend it making postcards out of, as usually, found flyers, newspapers, maps and tourist-brochures.

The exciting part was, that we were camping in the forest that night, on a spot between the lake without a beach, where we planned to swim and and empty house. And another tent, which belonged, as it turned out, to some nice, but rather boring two Berlin teenagers.

But Summer and forest is definitely not my thing. Way too much insects and sounds. That was actually a bit scary.

But I like the postcards anyway.

6 October 2013

Swedish Summer

I went to Sweden in the beginning of July for one week, with completely different companion and in completely different context as planned in the beginning.
Instead of sweet-couple vacation I went with a friend on a relaxed hanging out in search of lost emotional independence.
A lot happened after that, masses of things. Relationship situation changed drastically several times but the feeling of self-consciousness and independence didn't.
That's one of the reasons, why I post the backpack pictures now. The other is, that there were just so many pictures to edit and I find doing it really pretty boring.

Anyway, we made really relaxed travel through Scania and I would lie if I would say that I wasn't a bit of disappointed.

Sweden is cloudy, neat, clean, expensive, friendly, speaks English and sometimes even German, does sports and gives a ride to hitch-hikers (except one 10 km walk on a countryside road). The nature is of course nice, you can camp anywhere you want (e.g. in the city park at the beach) and people don't ask questions. I also didn't notice too many tourists.

Wild Nils Holgersson's goose are everywhere on the lawns and parks looking like fake, also peacocks and five different species of seagulls. Food is expensive like hell except for french fries and vegan ice-cream, which are cheaper than cow-milk ones.
The only alternative spot in Malmö was nice anarchist vegan café-infoshop, where we saw an old lady who tried (in our comprehension) to sell flowers to the bar tender. In the end she just gave him one and stayed a longer while chatting, looking like a regular customer or just a friend.

But there was no thrill. No much of this extraordinary feeling I usually get when I visit another country. Good or bad, it doesn't matter, but I expect sensations.
And from Sweden, as a regular fan of Swedish movies, music and literature I expected even more. Maybe too much.

And got a little bit of Bergman mood when we found an abandoned farm which looked exactly like from one of the movies, or at the sea side, on the quay, in wind and silence on the beach or in the bizarre but cheerful sculptures, fountains and other street decorations. But I found Sweden so modest, moderate, calm and somehow unreachable. Maybe it just needs more time, focus and attention.

Maybe next time.
We'll see each other again, Sweden.

30 September 2013

Some street art

I finally managed to collect some of pictures of my works.
I always knew how much fun does it make, but now, when I'm doing it for real I can fully appreciate it. Funny how easy I got into choosing spray paint colours, planning spots and thinking out the pictures.
I like that it doesn't have to be perfect, it doesn't have to be anything at all, except for what I want it to be.

And I want just a bit of fun and art satisfaction for myself and some colour for others who see it, in a freedom-derived, unrestrained form.