Diesel

We have acquired a new beast. Now our family is full of pretty, smart and fluffy beasts. His name is Diesel, English greyhound, adopted 2 days ago. He's happier every day as we rescued him from certain death. Now he keeps company to my already elderly rat Casper. The two, logically don't get along as Casper can't see him and Diesel considers him as a thing to catch and kill.

Oh well, he's been here only 2 days. We'll see what the future will bring.

Hello September!

Hello longer nights, cool nights, even cold at times,

Hello mysterious sunsets and rainy evenings,

Hello golden afternoons and grandma's red roses,

Hello books and studying,

Hello cups of hot green tea, cookies and mum's muffins,

Hello cozy blankets and long sleeves

Hello loose hair, dancing in the autumn's wind

Hello boots and jeans 

Hello inspiration, romance, nostalgia

Hello daydreaming at a window, while watching raindrops 

           and listening to a sound of cars driving through wet streets.

Hello autumn!

Photos from:
CarolynCochraneLightColorNature
ShadetreePhotography
Briole

Relaxation.ion.ion....

And finally, after a long while I have an evening off, a couple of hours just for myself. And since autumn is on its way, it showed its first traces on Sunday with a huge storm, I decided that it's time for autumn feeling and movies. Because the storm was beautifully melancholic. I really love storms and haven't seen one such as that one for a looong while now. 

Anyways, I decided to spend my free time in the bath and in front of computer. And I am just watching Inkheart. I read books 2 years ago and must say I was more or less positively surprised with the choice of actors. Most of all, I was more than happy to see that my favourite character in the book was not spoiled by the wrong actor. 

Just wanted to make a very quick post really. And now I'm back to the movie!

Dirty Old Man.

"Don't try," is written on his grave. The man of his time, this time and times to come. Pure, raw, straight to the core, sometimes deep and poetic. 

When I first met this man, I didn't expect to find what I did in his Women. At first we actually hated each other. He was just another man, writing about women, having sex with them and writing about that, drinking and fighting and writing about that...I thought he was just one more out of many, a macho-guy, who didn't care about women, about achieving something, about nothing actually, except sleeping and getting wasted. And then, a year of two later I heard someone talking about him and something whispered in  my ear: "Hey, I think you should give that Chinasky guy another chance."

And I did. And saw that I got it all wrong the first time. He has been one of my top reads ever since. And he stays on top. And I'm only writing this because today is a special day for me and I think that Hank should be part of it, although I don't think he really gave a shit about his birthday.

"Frankly, I was horrified by life, at what a man had to do simply in order to eat, sleep, and keep  himself clothed. So I stayed in bed and drank. When you drank the world was still out there, but for the moment it didn’t have you by the throat."

"It was true that I didn't have much ambition, but there ought to be a place for people without ambition, I mean a better place than the one usually reserved. How in the hell could a man enjoy being awakened at 6:30 a.m. by an alarm clock, leap out of bed, dress, force-feed, shit, piss, brush teeth and hair, and fight traffic to get to a place where essentially you made lots of money for somebody else and were asked to be grateful for the opportunity to do so? "

So, R.I.P Bukowski.

August dearest!

Last two weeks were absolutely crazy. I found a job, two of them actually and I've been balancing between the two almost every day, coming home dog tired, going to bed right away and really cutting out my social life for the most part. But! There was some civilization involved and so I got to meet some nice, sweet, unusual, happy but serious people. I also went jumping from a boat in the marina in the moonlight, which was like jumping into black abyss with silver linings and dots. It was beautiful. I also re-discovered the beauty of an impulsive act, imagination and the living-in-the-moment-make-it-last philosophy. At the same time however, my inner self apparently needed to remind my conscious self that I can still manage to be cranky, annoyed and short of words if so happens. So now I'm also working on pulling myself out of this negativity, because I don't like it how it projects on my other half. Hopefully yesterday night was a breakpoint for this area. 

So today I worked a little, now I'm home and about to cook. Fish chinese-style sounds good. I hope it'll be as tasty as planned. And in the evening some red wine, hopefully more moonlight, relaxed night and a take-it-easy concert:

August dearest, make it good, make it better. You smell beautifully and I love you a lot. With the rain last week the worst heat is gone and I can feel the arrival of autumn in the air. It's coming slowly, getting closer everyday. It feels something like it already, but I just inhale it all in and smile every time I walk out the door. Pine trees are more intoxicating than ever. 

Yes, more than ever.

Silver threads

Here it is: a part of another short story, written this morning. This one really is short, but I think it says it all and I don't need to stretch it more or add anything else.

Cesta se nama je umikala sama od sebe. Tako kot sva vozila, tako je skakala s poti, tako hitro, da je na koncu skoraj niti videla več nisem. Morda je bilo za to kriva noč, ki se je spustila nad naju že dobro uro nazaj, kot da je dojela namig, da je hotel biti nekaj časa sam z mano in samo z mano brez zvedave okolice, naključnih oči in strmečih pogledov. Skrila naju je tako v svoj objem, zaprla vrata in nama prišepnila: “Pohitita.”

Seeveda je lahko zvedavim očem zastirala poglede le tako dolgo, kot je šlo, potem pa se je našlo križišče, cestna svetilka, skupine vesele mladine, ki je praznovala poletje, in vse tisto, kar sva z besedami tkala v miren zrak okoli naju, se je začelo topiti, ko je prišlo v stik z vsem, kar je bilo izven naju, kajti bilo je še popolnoma mehko, nežno in nedoločeno, tako prosojno, da je te niti lahko raztrgal tudi že preprost, a glasen smeh mimoidočega. Morda je ravno zaradi tega, ker je čutil kako se vsa tista pajčevina na novo trže, predlagal skorajda preglasno in malce nerodno: “Daj, greva se vozit.”

Photo: http://polychromic.deviantart.com/gallery/#/d2w7qqj

Inspiration #2

Sitting here and browsing the Internet I am thinking: what could be a better way to spend your afternoon than browsing art pages, searching for new ideas of DIY to craft some new things for your new home. Trust me;    jobless, without inspiration and with loads of time on my hands, that's what I've been doing for quite some time now. And I've decided I should definitely get more creative. Not only because then I'll feel more useful, but also because this place need a bit of a spruce-up. And this is what I've found so far:

1. First of all, I want a special corner in the apartment, where we can set the real bar! I've always wanted it and now we talked about it. Yay! The idea is to put B&W photos of old and famous actors/actresses, glue them to the canvas and work with the photos until they look old/vintage. And then I thought what could go better with this than some cool lightning. So I started browsing a bit and found some great ideas; I had no idea, for instance, that you can make a really cool light with an empty wine bottle!

 

2. I actually want to cook more. Ever since I've started cooking for two and found some really cool websites with recipes, I gotta tell you it's all different. And so I saw some really funn(k)y menu planners. So I'm thinking of making one in the near future. Just for the fun of it, so that it's not just plain white paper pasted on the fridge in shabby writing.

3. Flowers! I've always watched my grandma growing flowers and my mum decorating the kitchen table with them. I think it'd be nice if I start doing the same. Last year I got some cute vases from Ikea and I bought 3 of them. I think they make a perfect pair. But now I've also found some ways how to make your own vases. No, not really make them, but decorate them and I thought this was a good idea: 

http://www.itsoverflowing.com/2012/04/simple-tips-to-tinting-bottles/

4. Candles! Lots of candles but sort of "hidden" so that the apartment doesn't resemble the cemetery:

http://budgetwisehome.com/

5. And as last but not least, I'm thinking it would be a good idea to figure out how we could grow some seasoning in the pots. I mean, it's not that it's difficult, it's just that I don't have that thing called green hand or fingers or touch, but it's quite the opposite with me; I have a black hand and usually murder all the plants. Nevertheless, here is a cool link to indoor gardening: 

http://thevintagewren.blogspot.com/2012/01/indoor-garden-revisited.html

 

Philosophy in the night-time

"We're gonna run out of cigarettes," he said. I just sat there and laughed because we bought a couple of new packs earlier but the alcohol got the best of him and erased his short term memory. Then he leaned closer and kissed me. I kept laughing.

It was a special night. One of those you don't plan but nevertheless turn out better than you expected. It was all peaceful, in the middle of the night. All the neighbours went to bed hours ago and we were the only two morons still awake at that time of the night in that little corner of the planet. Sometimes life is simply good. It brings along all you would like it to, it leaves out all the negative stuff you don't even think of remembering, such as daily worries about money, job, house, cleaning, car and everything else you can think about.

Because at the end of the day the only thing that matters is that one person you're with, that one person who holds you touching your hair, making you laugh, that one person who makes you believe that tomorrow is far far away and the only thing that matters is right here and right now and in this very moment everything is okay and very simple and very cozy. I like it just the way it is. Because sometimes you need some booze all by yourself and just for yourself so that you can dive into your own world and only let in one person or maybe two, but sometimes two can already be a crowd. It's interesting how the world turns, how your life turns and how your wishes change from one hour to the next. As I've said. It's not bad. It's actually way better than I've ever dared to expect and now I'm trying to make most of it with every single  day that comes along.

This has actually no point. It is merely some philosophy in the night-time. And let me stick to that for now. 

I wish you all a very fond goodnight. I'm in the mood for some atmospheric music. And as I flow into the unknown, here is a paragraph of one of my short stories completed this afternoon:

"Priplaval je do mene in mi pomignil: “pridi, greva malo bolj stran od obale. Nekaj ti bom pokazal.”

Skupaj sva odplavala ven iz zaliva. Pod nama je bila črnina bolj temna od črne barve same, nad nama se je bočilo črno nebo, ki je blestelo bledo rumeno nad lučmi mesta. Ostalo je bilo zavito v neznano, plankton je odseval miljarde zvezd na nebu. Počutila sem se, kot da bi plavala po nebu, da bi plula nad vsem in hkrati v vsem kar obstaja in kar me obdaja. In dišalo je, tako lepo je dišalo po borovcih, po slanem, po svobodi in po nečem lepem, a neoprijemljivem.

“Še vedno dišiš po tistih breskvah,” je mimogrede omenil. In nastopil je tisti pravi trenutek, ki sem ga čakala že od prejšnjega dne. Tiho sem se mu približala, mu priplavala za hrbet, kajti hotela sem ga zaviti med roke in noge in ga vsaj nekaj časa ne spustiti. A kot sem omenila, noč je bila dojemljiva za vse. Zato me je slišal in se obrnil v pravem trenutku, me prijel za ramena, povlekel k sebi in potisnil globoko pod vodo. Če bi prej prišla do zraka, bi ga potegnila s seboj. Tako pa sem le priplavala na površje in se napol dušila zaradi vode, ki sem jo pogoltnila in zaradi smeha, ki me je zvijal. Začela sem ga škropiti, in niti za to mi ni ostal dolžan. Med kratko pavzo škropljenja pa se mi je za trenutek zazdelo, da mi je skorajda neopazno pomežiknil in da je razumel moj namen."

Weekend. Yellow and blue

I had a great summer weekend. It started perfectly already on Thursday, after leaving my home town after one last exam until September. Altogether everything was full of sun, laughter, good booze and awesome company. Just the way I wanted and better. And here are some photos which I enjoy taking a lot (again)...just a little insight into all the happening.

 

A small sanctuary

Yes, a sanctuary. That's how it felt here for the last few hours. Dark storm clouds hanging on the horizon for the afternoon finally swam closer in the early evening. I was able to open the windows and let in some fresh air. And then the revelation-  rain drops came soft against  balconies, trees, pavement, and kids who were playing outside ran screaming inside, laughing. Slowly but very soon the whole neighbourhood fell quiet. I heard nothing but the rain, occasional thunder and a loud TV from a neighbour below. 

I made myself a cup of tea, rolled a cigarette and just let the fresh air fill my lungs and tickle my skin. It's been a long while since the last rain, or so it seemed to me. It was as if the world outside has disappeared for the night and there was just us and the small apartment and the film we were watching. Soft smell filled the night air and brought back memories of summers past. Nice memories, but no nostalgia. I was all just very simple and nice. I remembered spending summers at my grandparents house, staring at rain clouds,  smelling the nature after thunders. It all smelled green. And of roses that my grandmother grew. And I used to sit through the storms wrapped up in a blanket, with a book in my lap, tea and cookies on the table and feet on the window shelf. And while it was pouring rain and the lightnings were tearing up the sky, I was floating away in old stories, romance novels and on adventures in exotic places, like India, China, Nepal... I saw the novels transforming into films, words becoming whispers in the air, paragraphs photographs, and colours, there were colours and different atmospheres.

And now, again wrapped up in a blanket, I am about to go to sleep, the world outside is silent, the rain has stopped, and the snoring from the other room will be my lullaby for tonight. 

I like stormy evenings. They trigger something in my brain and I start daydreaming. And it feels good to daydream. Especially when it's tightly linked with reality. But enough overwhelming feeling for now.

Good night!

Praise to summer and Priorities

I woke up into a beautiful morning. The sun's shining and the smell of pine trees and the sea outside is almost intoxicating. I haven't felt this good in days, weeks even. And since it's almost a miracle that I'm up at this early hour, I decided to make a little "ritual"  out of this. Perhaps it will even become my habit:

Red orange flavoured green tea, rolled cigarette with a glass of cold water and music in the background. To set the atmosphere and to soak it all in through soft melodies. 

Summer is finally here and I hope it stays for a while. And a while longer. I just love those summer afternoons when everything just slows down and the streets get deserted, cigarette smoke is travelling through the air creating big slow shapes of ellipses, the tree branches are still because there's no breeze; sometimes even the crickets get quiet. And then I love the summer nights where you can still feel the heat of the day evaporating from the pavements. People come out of their hidings, you can go out wearing nothing but one single dress and you don't need extra clothes, because it just doesn't get cold. The drops from the beer bottle are slowly sliding down the neck of the bottle and you enjoy every sip, because it's nice and cold and refreshing, while you're hanging out with friends, talking about everything there is to talk about, because it's summer, it's hot and the horizon just seems to be closer and closer. With all the colours of this world.

I haven't been around here for a while now, I have lots of blog updates to check and it would also be high time to write something as well. I started writing a short story 2 weeks ago but it got stuck at the very beginning already, since there was no plan to finish it until beginning of July. Why July? Because I made this plan...or rather call it a list of things I should, want and hopefully will start doing, since I was complaining to myself and others that my creativity went out the window. So the list is in making, writing is my #1 priority. Then there are some other things as well, for instance I came up with an idea for my fiends' b-day present...this year (again) I'm going to make it myself (last year he got a painting of his favourite flowers). Now I'm thinking about agenda for study plans or something like that...we'll see how it goes.

And until the next blog post, just a photo of this morning:

Inspiration #1

by: Ryan J Woodward

Goals? What goals!?

I think that for a while now I've been at a standstill. I just came to realize it this evening, while I was browsing through some blogs...People travel, people help, volunteer, people create, organize... The only thing I'm doing lately is eating, sitting on my butt, sleeping and sitting on my butt some more. Now the background of all this is surely that period of each year that we dread the most, called the exam period. You know, the Goodbye life, hello exams! one. So I know I can't really start changing anything right this moment with exception of my marker, study chapter or a notebook. But those blogs got me thinking... I used to have goals, I used to have ideas, thoughts, wishes, visions; I used to get excited over travel plans, good books and simple paintings. And got inspired by all, even if I didn't go travelling or even if I didn't read. I had photos in my head, albums and albums of photos. Now I sound like an old grandma, with the I used to...back in the day. I wasn't made to be a housewife, to wait for the husband to get home, to think of cooking and cleaning every single day. Are you kidding me?! (now, I am not married, I hardly ever cook, hehe. This is a mere monologue with myself!) 

Yes, it's true, studying takes up A LOT of time, especially now when I'm in my 4th year. And now, when we're in the middle of May and June will be deadly. But! Just like good old Mr. Keating said in the Dead Poets Society:

"Let the powerful play go on and you may contribute a verse."

So with this day on I am fully in this powerful play called life. But first thing's first- and it should start with a list. Not bucket list exactly and no TO.DO.LIST either. I should make a personal and only my own list of things that have been gone from my mind for too long. And preferably should write it down somewhere. Preferably.  

Summer's first kiss

Two things have gone wrong considering this post:

a) originally it was meant to be a "morning post" and now it's already lunchtime

b) the title of the post should be Spring's first kiss, as is the title of this drawing I did. But since it took me too long to add some finishing touches to it, the summer has already come. And there we go. Daily post in the nice summer day. It did come a bit fast, but hey, no winter socks, jackes, hoodies and millions of layers and layers and layers. 

Today it feels like going out, sitting in the park somewhere with a friend or two and just enjoying the day. But since I've got exams coming up, I've already done the "drinking in the park" thing two days ago. With a frind of mine we were enjoying good wine next to the sea shore, soaking in the sun, celebrating just about eveything that came to mind- make-up, pretty boys, summer dresses and the victory in the W.W.II, since it was a national Day of fighting against the occupying forces. 

 And to soak in even more feeling, it's time for some nostalgia and for a little piece 

of this story i wrote a while back...somehow in a place and time like this. When all 

was in bloom...

 »Pridi z mano,« mi je rekel malo pred tem, ko sem ponovno sanjala z odprtimi očmi, in strmela v večerno nebo ob mraku, ki se je prvič, odkar sem prispela, odelo v barve sončnega zahoda. Vsedel se je nasproti mene, mi podal cigaret in rekel : »V Pariz Juga.« Hotela sem mu dopovedati, naj ne pretirava, da sva že tam, in da se meni nikamor ne hodi. A se ni pustil prepričati. »Poglej,« je vstal in z roko zaobjel vse mesto, ki je ležalo skrivnostno in močno v večernih urah, pod paleto mogočnih barv v rokah mojstra umetnosti. »Vse to je lahko tvoje,« je naredil premor in se naslonil na ograjo. »Vse to je lahko najino,« se je sklonil bliže k meni, me pogladil po laseh in zašepetal na uho. »Tam zunaj te čaka prava Nola... Le zajadrati je treba, le prijeti moraš mojo roko, in odjadrala bova čez vrhove hiš...«. Strmel je vame s tistimi svojimi očmi, ki bi lahko bile oči otroka in starca obenem. Zazrle so se mi v dno prsnega koša in osvetlile že zdavnaj pozabljene ostanke, ruševine in razbitine, kot podmornica. In tako sem se po dolgem času ponovno vrnila v Nolo. Tako, kot sem jo spoznala ze prvič.«

 ==

 The sun is hot on my neck as I observe
     The spikes of the crocus.
     The smell of the earth is good.
     It is apparent that there is no death.

(Spring, Edna St. Vincent Millay)

World Book Day

As far as my memory goes, I've always had a little piece of my heart dedicated to books. And for a long time I just refused to admit that I read, because most of my classmates just never had. My grandpa was mostly my that-one-figure-with-a-good-taste-for-books-and-movies.

The books, you know, the books and more books......

At my grandparnets' house there is this room I claimed my own. It's full of books; war novels, romance stuff, different theoretical books, some on gardening, some on photography, encyclopedias, everything! And at night when I turned off the lights I could hear them, whispering stories od Napoleon times, Russian battles, girls in pretty dresses and lords on horses...And that room was (well, is) still my favourite in that house. And the smell of it and the smell of old books which my grandparents had been collecting for a long time...

And what I really wanted to say here was that this library that I regularly visit, was giving away books for free today (duh! it's the world book day), and I have to say, there weren't only ancient ones that most of us would just never need ever, but I found some very good ones, as you can see on the photo; Woolf, Gorky, Wharton, a book of fairy-tales in german, which might be useful for a) improving my german, or b) my students for practicing german pronounciation. So yay! Well and I found some more. It was a great catch!

And just to conclude, I tought quoting Мари́на Цвета́ева (Tsvetaeva, a russian poet) would be good for the occasion:

There are books so alive that you're always afraid that while you weren't reading, the book has gone and changed, has shifted like a river; while you went on living, it went on living too, and like a river moved on and moved away. No one has stepped twice into the same river. But did anyone ever step twice into the same book?

In the beginning there was one...

 

So here it is...my first typical, usual not special first blog post. For the rainy afternoon and candle-lit, dark and cozy room. I wrote a little something for the occasion:

"V moji sobi gorijo sveče. V temno modrem večeru na ulici rahlo prši in vse naokoli se plete pajčevina preteklosti iz knjige o smrti, pajčevina vsega, kar v tem trenutku sem in kar me obdaja, kar me sestavlja in navdušuje, žalosti in pozablja. Zaprem oči, ko po turško sedim na postelji, se zravnam in pogledam  nekam gor, tema, ki jo vidim, riše lepe neprepoznavne oblike, ki bi lahko bile tudi ognjeni zajci divjeoranžnih zubljev tiste velike sveče na mojem oknu. Ali pa iz tvojih oči. Ko strmim navzgor me objamejo tvoje roke, čutim njihovo toploto na trebuhu in čutim tvojo toploto na hrbtu. Tvojo sapo na mojem vratu, tvoje ustnice na rami. Življenje se je zadnje čase malo obrnilo, tako da se je moj svet razcvetel, in spet ga vonjam, vidim, diham, predvsem pa čutim, in to precej izrazito. Tišina tega, kar nočem slišati in zvok vsega ostalega kar hočem. Trpek čaj mi pušča kislo sled po požiralniku, glavobol se je umaknil nekam v ozadje...če nočem, ga ne čutim več. in ta pajčevina okoli mene je še lepša, če ugasnem luč, kajti srebrno in nežno rumeno se zasvetlika v soju sveč in vonju cimeta. Današnji večer je pravi za sanjarjenje. Kako lepo pa je še toliko bolj, ker si ni treba čisto vsega izmisliti. Manjka mi le še dovoljenje prižgati cigareto v postelji in vse bi bilo popolno. Tudi to, da te trenutno ni tukaj, je dovolj lepo, ker malo vseeno si. "

image: BootsNGus