un om care deseneaza

drawing by me - the painter's dream

am fost intrebat azi, ce sunt? dincolo de o pregatire profesionala, am gandit raspunsul - primul sentiment, primul gand, primul impuls de a raspunde: sunt un om care deseneaza. nu ma simt nimic altceva, poate n-am fost nimic altceva niciodata - totul doar o amanare pana in acest punct. ce-am invatat? am aflat lucruri, am vazut locuri si am intalnit cativa oameni. totul ca sa ajung sa spun acum ceea ce simt: sunt un om care deseneaza.

fie ca o fac cu un creion si o bucata de hartie, fie ca o fac in timp ce scriu - desenand povesti sau idei din cuvinte si virgule, cu ceva puncte de suspensie agatate... fie ca o fac intr-o mangaiere a unei fete dragi, dimineata, sau intr-o propozitie aruncata aproape soptit catre cel ce ma asculta; fie ca o fac cu o pensula si noile culori pe care inca nu le inteleg complet - acrylice, de tot felul, care 3D care fosforescente sau cu tente vechi si noi, reinventate, recalculate incat totul sa fie la indemana; fie ca o fac, asa cum imi place cel mai mult, cu o coala alba curata si cu un pix negru - din care se pot naste lumi - lumi pe care inca nu le-am vazut dar le banuiesc, lumi ale mele pentru ceilalti.

sunt un om care se regaseste printre liniile pe care le lasa pe o pagina virgina.

da-mi un servetel si un pix si iti dau un prieten.

da-mi o penita si un carton si iti dau o oglinda a ce va fi.

da-mi-te si te desenez - caci asa pot iubi cel mai mult, ca asa stiu a iubi, caci asa iubesc - desenand.

poate voi mai fi intrebat ce sunt, cu cine stie cate atributii premergatoare intrebarii sau cautate dincolo de propriul raspuns. oriunde si oricand, de acum inainte, doar astfel voi raspunde: sunt un om, care deseneaza...

atat de om, incat imi regasesc trufia in dorinta sa va placa.

waltz opus no.2 (the waltz of words)

Wosene Worke Kosrof - The Color of Words IX

we dance with words

one to another,

only that-another to just understand what we meant.

this extinct battle to be understood.

this voyage from feeling 

to finding the definition of that specific tone or choice

that is so particularly "us".

bounded with letters and rules of grammar.

under the obligation to resume yourself within thirty lines or more,

depending of the time allowed or the page size you are granted.

how hard was for the first man to speak?

what was his first word?

why from that moment on we've stuck boundaries upon boundaries

along with each word created?

...but how else can you be understood?...

how else can you "say" what you want, think or feel?

how else can we tell someone we love or hate him?

how else can you say you've missed him or that you're glad?

my dear words,

we've invented you for so long

to be able to bring to life

only a crumb of what's inside of us...

but what would we be without you?

so again,

day by day,

we dance with you, my dear words,

only one day to be able to tell everything...

till then, let's dance!

waltz opus no.1 (the frost waltz)

polar-bear waltz by outside magazine

i'll take you to the north 

while you sleep,

gently with your dreams,

i'll take you to the cold of earth

and by the grace of crisp

music will emerge

for us to waltz...

you queen of ice

me frost of winds

swinging our way

into the mist

time will arrest for us

all kept safely in my hour-glass

and fairies gonna light our ring

chinese-lanterns of the dusk

i will take you to the north

where's no age and wrinkles 

for the snow to comb you a dress

and the bleak air to mantle your shoes

for all time to dance

you, me and the waltz

clubbed to death

clubbed to death by angels
i wish to be. just to be born again
from a wave of fire and stone
skin hard for no pain as my soul
eyes to see all as my heart
re-born from this madness only to live truly by the word.

someone asked me the other day
what the word is?
i smiled in complete silence...
he didn't understand.

i would like to club him to death along with angels
only to be born again.
waves of fire and stone
to harden his skin and soul
eyes to see everything with his heart
this madness gets to be so you could live truly by the word.

drops (lyrics meant for a song)

roger mclassus - drop-impact

like a drop of water

falling down from the sky

so much freedom surrounding

i will fly, i will fly

like drop of red wine

staining your white gown

i'm so stuck with you

the world around, world around

like a drop of tears

dribbling from your eyes

i will lay on you

soft and wise, soft and wise

like a drop of gas

leaking from a pipe

all the world i'll burn

for you and i, you and i

like a drop in time

so hidden, so shy

no-one is to know

what future lies, future lies

like a drop of water

falling down from the sky

i will take you with me

for a while, for a while

the road

henri cartier-bresson - en brie

the road seems long from here.

a large view,

no concern and no regard of what ever can be found at the end,

if there is any...

i start to stride it, one big step after another, 

confident of my anatomy and my biological device of walking,

foot in front foot, over and over again,

clock-finished mechanism of footsteps carrying myself forward.

i wait for nothing,

there's only ahead 

and what i've left behind counts no more.

i stare from time to time on both sides

trying to catch a glimpse of scenery just to clear and refresh my retina. 

i wait for nothing

and

nothing waits for me,

not even the road. 

it just is.

i'm just walking it.

there are so many wonders where i'm going...

plenty of marvels to be seen,

miracles to live.

they will all just be happening

and

i will just be there

enjoying.

thank you for the road.

thanks for tramping it.

hope i'll do well

step by step

on the road...

choice-of-words

we do tend to circle around a bunch of words which define us for a while. it depends from person to person on how long that particular group of words defines oneself - some take like six-months-choice-of-words, some take eight, twelve or more, regarding the power to see something else, one's imagination and creativity, let's not forget reading a bit or seeing some art from time to time... therefore, in my case, i'm stuck with my-group-of-words for like six to eight months. i incline to change them beginning from a conversation with a friend, a good line of a film, a quote from a book i did't read completely or haven't finished yet or maybe a striking image that came in front of me or i stumbled upon. 

to cut a long story short, these days i circle around a few words or phrases i'd like to put below for everyone to know them, to give an advice or a critique and last but not least to know me better by the words surrounding my vocabulary, state of mind or simply my humor. and i'd like to write them down because in few months they could change and some time from now i'll forget them, like never being with me or part of me, like never knowing them at all. they'll become another everyday choice-of-words with no meaning what so ever than themselves.

so here goes nothing:

1. i am a poem
2. i know everything and nothing at all, with no knowledge of how i know or how i got to know that at all
3. the world rest in your/my pen. imagine it!
4. i do try, i really do. but i got to stop trying and just do it.
5. there is a purpose everywhere. you just got to find it
6. we all have a mission, a lesson to learn. if i'll fail mine this time i'm sure to come back for the same thing over and over again until i learn
7. if you look up you'll see the sun, down there's only pavement 
8. because there is so much beauty in the world
9. there is a God and He's laughing. that will never change.
10. i am a joy of human being

all's well when it ends well, or someone did say that a while ago. hope is true. hope my choice-of-words did not offend anybody. hope i'm not the only one with such choices.

decisions

why do we find the hardest things in life to be decisions? why is it so hard to make up your mind? to choose. if we think about it, there are only, basically, two choices: right and wrong - as we are used to call them, but truly they just are good and bad - in any way you wanna measure them or according to whatever criterion you wish. good and bad - that's all there is, not only here but in the hole universe. everything that has life comes down to this two simple choices. everything refers to them and any creature or life form from this time and beyond comprehends and lives by those simple two notions. 

so, it all comes down to this: is it good for you or is it bad? and there is no selfishness in this, no egocentric thinking or something like that. don't forget: the only-one you are responsible for is undoubtedly yourself, so the questions asked earlier are true: is it good or not for you and you alone. don't be afraid to choose. if it's good for you then you cannot do a bad thing and everything around you will understand your action and more - everything will resonate to you. and don't think that if you'd like to do harm because it's fun for yourself, the universe will see it likewise. no, the right or wrong is so simple that you cannot cheat or lie or deceive, not even yourself deep down inside. so why the hell, excuse my... French, is it so damn hard to choose, to make a decision? why don't we listen to the first thought? why don't we listen beyond our interests and puny goals and take the right answer for us and everybody else directly from all around? - listen carefully for the first thing that pops in your mind; that one comes from your soul. and the soul... he knows just two measures: good and bad. and your soul can't do wrong. simply because he belong to you and all around in the same time... he really is you in the purest form since the beginning and till the end. he just knows good, life and love. sounds foolish, right? maybe that's why we are so scared to choose, to be or to love...because it's so simple and foolish at the first sight. 

be not afraid! you know how to live, just listen closely to yourself. 

it's summer

vincent van gogh - sunflowers

in summer you should not be sad. it's too sunny or too bright - the choice of words it's up to you, but remember, anyway you put it, it is still summer - so no sadness.

you can run a hill or a field

you can sit a park-bench or a porch 

you can sing a song or just whistle

you can draw some meaningless lines or a portrait

you can read a book or a thrown-out paper

you can sip a lemonade with lots of sugar or plain cold water

you can bite an apple or get bitten by a small hot dog

you can comb someone's long wet hair till is dry

or just bathe that someone again with a hose

you can fall asleep in the grass or tuck yourself in the chilly bed clothes

you can speak loudly or just whisper some love statement

you can stare at the sun when is setting or wait for the sunrise all night long

you can drink a bottle of beer without breathing or get thirsty an entire afternoon

you can dream with your eyes opened and sleep like a rock

you can be silent for a week or just say hello and goodbye 

you can make love to the sea or just get a tan

you can travel or stay still

you can all of that and more but you don't have to anything

because it's summer.

and in summer you must never be sad. it's too sunny and sometimes too bright. and it would be a waste of your summer... how many do you think can be wasted? in my opinion, none.

ENOUGH!

enough

searching for love amidst the powder of money and the material!

enough

preaching all will be well but not believing in it for only one moment!

enough 

caving in so easily and not remembering what i have and can do!

enough

living lies or memories, waiting for the past to become present again!

enough

fooling myself because of the smalls in the world, forgetting to look beyond!

enough

keeping dreams as real living and leaving life aside!

enough

making so damn fun of myself only to smile that even my laugh gets tired!

enough

jerking around! there is so much beauty and so little time to disclose it.

enough

with lonely night and the asylum in my solitude!

enough

being mean just because kind is a step further too much!

enough

with the jokes that tear life apart! so fragile it is and so meant to be cherished.

enough

with the deaf! we speak therefore we might as well hear.

enough

with the blind! we still have eyes to see.

enough

with all that should have been enough till now!

enough

saying "enough" for so many times 

but not once with indisputable meaning!

help me God, 

Universe or 

All forth and inwards ,

this to be my final and last "enough"! 

so there it is:

ENOUGH!

yardley

adapted web photo

Yardley is a good dog:

a good listener, a brave scout and a clean eater.

he, because after all this time "he" is considered a person, inspite all arguments regarding language or rules of vocabulary, as i said, he always hears you, even though he reacts or not. he searches for everything, anytime - actually that's his only real preoccupation and he eats everything at the table, leaving no scratch nor crumb behind, therefore he's always clean after a meal and his place also neat.

he's good at the personality check also: always tends to do things only his way, no matter how you put it. he has such a personality that lately he is taken by all as a real-human person, sometimes granted duties beyond his abilities and unfortunately he is brought to book for the results. he holds no grudges. 


in the afternoon you really don't want to wake him up. to cut a long story short, you just don't want to wake him up at all. just leave him be, practically leave him sleep. better for everyone, specially for his so needed beauty-sleep. he holds his rituals so dearly.


just before going to bed, at night, you should play with him. he fancies getting attention a lot and can be very grateful afterwards. in fact, it's quite nice to play with Yardley. specially gin. he's very alert and can be a true adversary. when he happens to win he gives a round of water for everyone. you are bound to take it. maybe that's why in that sort of nights it happens to be so crowded  at the bathroom. luckily he wins sporadically.


the long and the short of it is:
1. Yardley was and remains a fairly good dog.
2. Yardley has, more than any other dog of his kind, personality.
3. Yardley, because of that personality, inclines to hold few duties of which their failure allures  responsibility.
4. Yardley should not be waken up in the afternoons, no matter what so ever.
5. Yardley plays gin quite successfully for a dog, in spite the night schedule of everyone's bladder.


after all, Yardley is a good dog.

language & hearing

in other language

i easily find the words

to define myself.

i'm too used to think with the voice i was born in

accustomed with the same topic and sense

tired of all the meaning i can make.

and i'm not afraid of making mistakes using different words than my own

not scared of being misunderstood or taken for granted 

hoping of some new ideas that will pop out even if i don't think them.

i'm free in these new vocabulary. no boundaries

to report to or to be stuck in. just feelings

drawn in this fresh lines letters reveal to me.

i cannot relate to anyone but myself with my maiden voice.

i can ask no advice nor older council, newborn

inwards and forth my own universe.

hear me out!

if there is anyone else speaking the same tongue.

be kind and listen to me, decent to reply.

i'm all words and ears

hearing as clear as ever

speaking for the first time.

3 minutes love

web photo

sometimes, all you need is love = a slice of cold raspberry cheesecake. 

depending on how fast you eat it, this love can last from about 3 minutes to an extreme 7 minutes, but then you need to be so slow that even earth will start to circle only for you in your own time. and believe me, that slice can change your life for even a glimpse. and it's worth it!

how the spoon can carve into the soft white cheese cream, along with a drop of raspberry jam hung, leaving a trail of the most sweet fruit blood ever tasted... how you can fashion your way eating bite by bite, leaving nothing but the shadow of once true love stuck in this simple white form. how all surrounding can change within a look of the first taste. soon hearing is accurate: leaves talk to you played by the wind, the town dumbs only for you, embracing you all of a sudden... people, oh those lovely people you can see now...their features rounded and softened and all ugliness blurs into red and white. and the biscuit soaked with the red syrup speaks in your language words never heard before, words of peace and happiness as if you were a beauty queen winning a contest, the most craved one. suddenly you are no longer a man nor a woman, you just are! suddenly there is room for discrimination or for any other thing that can set you apart from the others. you all are. the world reveals its secrets for that swift moment of a bite...

my darlings, sometimes all you need is a slice of cheesecake. because there is so much beauty in the world...  

in me is you

in this particularly sad lonely time

when i think of you

you blend the faces of all

features i remember 

or not

the ones i loved one day

and

ones i have imagined.

in this particularly sad lonely

you bear all the names into a single one

your name

i've always feared and adored

the name i tend to whisper when i get to bed

after a long sleepless night. 

in this particularly sad

i distress into a smile of happiness

never knowing how to find you

or where to look

and

even if my looks are good for you.

in this particular

i imagine you

hidden

into the canvas of my life

as i still know how to paint it. 

in this

i invent you

stuck between these words

waiting to get out.

be free!

in

me

is

you. 

old photo by me

take care

painting by me

take care, my love,

for all the glances from me to you in soft dark corners of our bed

for all the times you were afraid and i did laugh 

because nothing could have happened while i was still there

for all the sighs i've heard watching you sleep

for all the betimes moments i coated your feet not to catch cold

for all your expectations story-told to me in perfect midnight silence

for all the sunshines of the sunrise

and all the stars hung hard-by the moon

for all the days to come and hopes of days to be

for all the days past and memories bygone

for my sake at least if that matters

or for the sake of our child in that gentle dreaming time we had

for all the voices in the world just so you can hear me!

take care, my love,

good care of you...

elements

i wish to make a drop of water

to bathe in.

sank inside there will be only silence.

maybe this way i'll be able to hear the world

to acknowledge it.

who knows, maybe i'll even hear someone calling me

(in my drop of water i will understand her voice).

i wish to make a breeze of wind

to waft along.

scavenged aside blowing there will be only music.

maybe this way i'll be able to dance the world

to enjoy it.

who knows, maybe i'll even hear someone sing for me

(along with my wind i will understand her words).

i wish to make a grain of earth

to dig myself in.

buried inside there will be only space

to feel it.

who knows, maybe i'll even touch someone's skin

(within my earth i will understand her body).

scared to be burnt no more

i will make a flame of fire

to shove it in my soul.

blazing inside out there will be only life.

this way i'll be able to live

fully.

i know i'll find someone to live with me

(both of us burning will understand).

never gonna give up

phone photo by me

never gonna give up smoking

(or should i?)

and dreaming by the way...

never gonna give up making bad jokes 

in inappropriate moments

(not my fault actually, i'm made this way)

and laugh at all life saves for me

never gonna give up drinking tea

(nor coffee for that matter)

and enjoying each warm embrace

never gonna give up talking 'bout myself

(my selfish self-seeking person)

and listen to all the stories around me

never gonna give up kissing in the morning

(though any time is good for kissing)

and staying late in the night watching you sleep

never gonna give up wanting love

(cause hate i'm full of it)

and making love,

or at least trying to,

as much as i can

never gonna give up smoking

(that's for sure)

and i know i want so much...

i want a long lasting life

for the fun of it!

melancholy

albrecht durer - melencolia 1, 1514

sometimes i cry

cast away within me

saying no words to anybody

just whispers to myself

which i don't want to hear no more

so many words i've said to me

that i know myself no more

can't recognize my eyes crying

can't recognize my voice hidden in whispers

can't recognize my language in so many words

and

nobody knows

just me

when sometimes

i do allow myself

to cry.

drawing by me

si pentru ca tot e dimineata,

si pentru case potriveste cu Osho,

sau nu,

si pentru ca deja e scanat desenul,

un pic de Gargantua nu strica...

citindu-l pe OSHO

cover pro editura, 2004

e o zi ca oricare alta. si ca sa fim specifici, e o noapte ca oricare alta... ok, sa fim extraordinar-exagerat de specifici...daca doriti, e o aproape-dimineata ca oricare alta. si uite asa, dintr-o cautare de specificitate ce trebuia sa fie exact acum s-a pierdut in detalii si temporalitate excesiva. poate e mai bine. caci doar despre domnu' osho e vorba si despre un inceput de blog... si vorba celui mai sus mentionat: suntem aici si acum. atat conteaza: ce este.

mi se pare un titlu bun de inceput... si daca nu, oricum ma pot uita la coperta din dreapta: " traiesc o experienta fara sa vreau s-o numesc in vreun fel". unii ii spun "a scrie", altii "a blog-ui", eu nu stiu cum s-o numesc. ar fi o sugestie: insomnie... parca suna prea faithless.


incerc sa explic, sa ma explic... macar pentru mine insumi: scriu aceste randuri si datorita cartii ce isi are coperta alaturata. incerc sa inteleg. si mai stiu "unii" ce spun ca blog-ul asta a aparut ca o forma de... psiho... oricum, nu stiu exact termenul dar ceva cu "psi" la inceput si ceva terapie prin mijloc. nu as vrea sa cred ca asta am inceput. daca-i pe-asa... help me mr. Jung! ca de Freud oricum nu mai scap.


oricum ar fi, orice ar fi... e haios! in timp ce scriu, incerc sa-mi dau seama de toate tool-urile si posibilitatile "nesfarsite" ale blog-arelii. o fi bine, n-o fi bine? poate-i pentru palmares.


si ca orice speech de inceput, si acesta, din pacate, trebuie sa fie unul scurt. cum iti da ghes sa scrii cand ai atata spatiu virtual virgin la indemana!... dar ma opresc aici. ce va fi de-acum incolo? Dumnezeu, Jung, Freud sau chiar domnu' Osho cu mila... o sa incerc sa scriu. despre carti, tablouri, detalii sau reusesc sa surprind generalitati. nu voi fi constant, m-as contrazice pana la esenta. da' din cand in cand un text sau un desen sunt binevenite... oricum, sper asa sa fie...


buna dimineata, tuturor!
because there is so much beauty in the world...