8 January 2013

Once upon a time in Hungary. Dry and sad.

Since we all agreed, that no one reads this blog anyway, the pressure to keep things in chronological order went down radically. I have to admit, that I was often cheating on calendar and putting posts in the right order just to keep the frequency of posts more or less even. But I don't care anymore.

Hungary I visited in the last days of August. I was still burned with Balkan sun but for couple of weeks I get a bit moisturized with humid North-German air and a lot of tears cried in the sake of one of my relationships in rearrangement phase.

I went to do some work, I was sure I will never fall in love again (or even back again) and determined. And of course ready to face all the scary stories about ugly, unfriendly, close minded, boring, exhausting Hungary.

And guess what. It is exactly like this: ugly, unfriendly, close minded, boring, exhausting. Not only the coincidences, I was there in, seeing animal abuse of one of the worst kinds in front of my eyes. Not only the annoying language, which makes me feel like I'd never like to learn it (which is pretty rare for me, I usually fall in love with every new language I meet and dream then for weeks about learning it, only to come back to learning German grammar, humiliated).
Not even the mood of "national pride" which you can feel on every corner, every newspaper, radio news, or even local specialties shop; the most disgusting type of nationalism, the one that grew so deep into the society, that is not even an issue anymore (I couldn't believe to hear about "the final solution of the Roma question" in the radio news, when I got it translated).
Not the ugly, dry, messy and unbelievable primitive rural landscape, boring Austro-Hungarian towns (including Budapest with a bit of post-soviet flow).
And at least, not the unfriendly people, not paying attention to anything, chaotic and somehow absent, even when it comes to their own businesses.
Or, actually, all of those things together. I may be prejudiced, I don't like from definition an atmosphere of national meat eating with a mission from the catholic god if you know what I mean. And I believe there are probably a lot of lovely places and wonderful people in Hungary. I'm just pretty sure, that I'm not going to look for them.
Last year in Hungary there was a drought, a real natural disaster which destroyed huge amount of crops and threatened the food industry. I saw it, creepy, endless fields of dead corn and sunflowers.
Maybe a catholic god got a little revenge upon all the nationalist to keep them busy with food crisis and pull them away from the "Roma question" for a moment.











"What else is there?"

I looked up in stats recently to discover that almost no one reads this blog.
It's almost 1,5 year I'm writing it quite regularly and I know it always takes time to get a certain amount of readers, be linked and so on. But come on. I knew from the beginning, that I write it more for the people I know, who can just look up the pictures from my travels, or even for myself but still.. come on. I even started to put titles of popular songs in post titles, because I've noticed that it pays (One day we'll be old post broke the record of entries with 90 ! No illusions, that even 10% read it untill the end).

Then I thought it's probably pretty boring for people to read some personal stories with grammar mistakes and not-so-well pictures instead of another socio-political-situation-analysis-with a lot of funny swearwords-feminist-blog.
Well, selbstverständlich, I can use some funny long, misterious German words instead.
Let's say I keep on treating it as some kind of a diary. But one thing keeps me anxious, since the time I once read it in some article. If one day the whole Internet will cease to exist, there will be literally no trace left after our civilization. No one will ever know what kind of worries, joys and every day life we had, what kind of people we were, because all that is remaining will be gone forever in some electronic mist. Yes, there are still books, even I own some and I know, that people still buy and read them. But that's not the same as personal stories!

Following this sad thoughts path I came to the conclusion, that the only hope lays in zines. Those are almost extincted as well, but again, I know people who buy them and make them. I also planned to make a blog with my artworks, maybe connecting this two ideas could be a good point to put it on the top of my New Year's "to-do" list.

Let's see what comes. As a entertainment I serve you one of the most beautiful songs and most inspiring videos if my life. Don't forget to get inspired!

ROYKSOPP - WHAT ELSE IS THERE from martin de thurah on Vimeo.

Promises not kept. I miss you Winter.

Once I said I'm not going to see Winter this year. Well, nothing stays the same, and even though I'm always afraid of the changes, they come and leave me with something completely different. So ist das Leben.
I miss Winter so much, that I was more than happy in this few weeks of frost and snow in December, together with beautiful time I spent at home these days. It's obviously long gone here, between two seas, but I managed to take some lovely, cheesy pictures of snow wonders.














4 January 2013

Warsaw Sprinter. There is a light that never goes out.



This song opened the year 2013 for me in one of the Warsaw's cafes and found me unexpectedly in few other situations in last days. I absolutely adore it, it makes me sad and happy at the same time.

After heavy frosts came a thaw, melted all the snow and turned Winter into Spring. Sprinter.
Then came a heavy flue and destroyed my X-mas holidays plans in Warsaw.
I managed anyway to rejoice as much as possible the time I was given.
Through family meetings, meeting the past, celebrating birthday, polyamory meanders I walked into the new year. I wish, it will be easier for all of us, although I wouldn't do a thing any other way. Or maybe just a few things. I'm so happy with this complicated life free from worries but full of emotional challenges.
I wish you all the same.
No regrets.