Monday, March 30, 2009

Link - family stories

An amusing link that somehow reminds me of when my mom with a laugh says 'let's hav sum kwa-fee!' in a thick new-yorkan accent, reminiscing the time she lived there with her parents. In a modest light blue house, in West Islip on Long Island, with apple and plum trees in the well-kept garden laden with heavy vegetables resulting from the labour of my grandfather, and thick beige carpets and dark wood furniture, lace curtains and a little collection of jewellery and other trinkets my grandmother had found on the way to work in the cafeteria at a local school.

The stairs led up and doubled back on themselves, turning the corner to the children's section; two smallish rooms filled with the wonder of memories of my mother and her sisters' lives as children, in a dusty, heavy air somehow permeating the house even though my grandmother went to great extents to keep the house airy and clean. That was before she fell ill, of course, before her diabetes and other ailings made her bed-ridden, before they sold the house and moved away from her beloved ocean. Before she passed away.

In her childhood space, the story of how my mother as a child collected baseball cards with gold markings emblazoning Joe DiMaggio and all the other heroes of that time spilled from her lips in an impassioned whisper, the story of a treasure collected and expanded over years and years and stored in a shoe box in the depth of her room. Once, when my mother returned as a grown woman, the shoe box was no longer there and it had been given to the son of family friend.

My grandfather would take me shopping, we got into the car and turned down the quiet suburban street and the local mall of shops would appear, one-storey buildings along a way too wide road. Or we would go to the large supermarkets to buy dinner, to buy the few things that my grandmother would eat, after her operation. No cheese, not even on a pizza. And still, she'd pick at what was on her plate, seemingly not interested but knowing that she should, she really should.

White and blacks and primary colours were restricted in the paintings my grandfather produced, an extreme geometric tightness of circles and squares in harmonious compositions. Grandma painted in naturalistic style, soft, warm, intense colours, and often with the seagulls that for her personified freedom and liberty. She painted my mother on several occasions, and on one occasion she let me bring home with me a painting of a woman in a green dress, seated in a warm orange and red tableau with a cup on a table. My mom wasn't sure, but it is a picture of her. Grandma has included some of my mom's facial features, and to me there can be no doubt. Grandpa wrapped it in bubble foam, one, two, three layers, wrapped it in brown paper card and secured it with a coarse string, holding the painting in its wrapping and providing a well-thought handle for the long transportation across the ocean to its new home.

They would sometimes go to the sea promenade, with grandma painting and both selling their paintings, or so my mom has told me. I can just imagine them in the crisp sunshine, carefully crafted paintings in hand, near the sea, seagulls soaring over their heads as they gently speak to people browsing their paintings. Grandpa does the negotiating while grandma, perhaps, simply continues painting.

Paid my dues..?

I've had it on my list of things to do for a long while now. Somehow, it just didn't seem like the most attractive of to-do-things, but at the same time, it's sort of one of those that you can't keep putting off.

Seeking Jobseeker's Allowance. I.e. going on the dole.

Actually the woman was ok, she was neutral and helpful when I didn't know the answers to the gargantuan number of questions. What did make me realise with some severity and actually make me feel more down than up was around 50 questions on any potential sources of income. Answering "no" again and again made me feel really, really rubbish. And now here I am, with an appointment to go talk to someone at a JobCentre for an interview about my jobseeking approach or whatever it is they need to know.. I'm feeling plain busted after an hour of that...! Amazing that I have an appointment already tomorrow - I sort of expected them to take a week or two to sort that out.

So. It has come to this.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Running update

As is painfully visible from the gadget on the right (--->), I haven't been running nearly as much as I'd like to this month. That's not to say that I haven't been far behind on my monthly amount before and still made it, but this month it's been different.

I've had troubles with my old shoes, Nike ones, and decided it was time for some new runners. I wanted to have a gait analysis to ensure I got shoes that are right for my running style and feet, so that took a while to get done too, all the while I had slowed down my running a lot. I finally did got my act together to have the analysis done by a very apt professional and then had to decide on going for the top of the range model or the 'one step down' model that he suggested to me, because they didn't stock the more expensive one. So I went to other stores, trying to find the other model in my size and never managed, and in the end I ordered it online anyway. This process took a fair few days during which I did not run much. End of it all is that I'm now running in Asics Kayano 15's, and I'm liking it.

Although, of course, I then got sick and have only been out twice in my new shoes. 2009 hasn't been a great year for running so far, what with my fainting-induced concussion in January, shoe-woes in February and a mild but prolonged bout of illness in March. I hope this isn't going to be the norm for 2009!

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

on loneliness

One thing that I am realising is that cyclical experiences and movements define my life. I'm sure it's the same for everyone, but let's just for a moment allow me to keep focus on me. Right.

Cyclical. Round and around, passing through the same emotions of hope and disappointment, love and loneliness. I think I'm arriving at the space that people have lately been asking if I was at. A lonely place, a faraway place, a place where days are long and I rarely utter words to people I know. A place where having no deadlines or set times for meeting with people leaves a malleable void that is just so. The walls may be tested now and again, but there are no breakthroughs. And the dominant experience is loneliness. Not just the emotional and mental loneliness that I have (oi vay!) become used to and am working on accepting, but a physical loneliness, suspended in which I crave a physical, bodily touch and contact. A hug from a friend. A squeeze of the arm, a kiss... Contact through a screen gives an intellectual and in some ways emotional connection, but not the bodily aspect. Maybe I should start playing ball again, although the others might get the wrong idea. Maybe I shouldn't. Maybe I should leave my comfort zone once again, pursuing hopes. And maybe I'll end up disappointed once again in this same place of me, me, me.

Forgive my glumness, but it strikes me with clarity today how easily we fool ourselves into leading lives that do not, and will never, grant us what we hunger for. In my case, searching inward on a quest for knowledge and experience of myself, when what I perhaps need to do is to find that knowledge through and with someone else.

---

A good thing coming from all this is that I've recently been exploring more creative endeavours. I've finally constructed a pinhole camera from a set I was given over half a year ago and have taken a few photos, and am dabbling with all sorts of media, digital and physical. Perhaps, if some of them turn out well I can share them with you at a later point. I have a much greater degree of freedom in my art these days, sort of "oh, I don't care!", something I have always lacked. Maybe one day I'll become 'liberated' and can be able to express myself the way I'd like to.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

..Speaking of Danish poets..

... here's a really sweet short animated movie about a Danish poet. It won the Oscar in 2007 for best short subjects animation.



Enjoy!

Monday, March 09, 2009

Something in the air

The Danish national poet, or at least one that you'd have a very hard time not knowing about if you lived in Denmark, Klaus Rifbjerg has published yet another book. Was reading a review today and fell over this quotation from one of the poems:

Man må ha en skid på for at
klare ensomheden
den anden marts


...which translates something like this:

You've gotta be sozzled to
handle loneliness
on March 2nd


Which is why I too have embarked on a form of escape (not the one at the bottom of a bottle) in this reverberating space, where spring all but sings in the air, warmer and warmer still, the cherries blossoming, and around me couples look deeply into each others eyes with that passionate longing you have for something you've already got.

Me? I go running, I go out with friends, drinking and dancing till morning, I write down thoughts on who I think I thought I imagined I was and am. And there's a spring to my step as well.

Friday, March 06, 2009

Sej - Yappari



Although I haven't the faintest what this is about I find it remarkably soothing. Kyoko Hosono is a Japanese classical pianist who has branched into more contemporary music with the ensemble Xinowa Sej. Here are a few more snippets of her music.

I'm finding that I take a lot greater interest in music these days. I listen to music al the time when I'm at home, and my trusty little silver ipod brings the music along with me when I'm out and about. In some ways I feel that it's about creating a world of my own, one that I can float around in to the tunes I select. Somehow, the term "soundtrack of my life" seems very appropriate. And in this case, my life is turning fairly jazzy these days, jazzy and electronic and just a wee bit.. well, I don't know what to call it, but check these out: the Fleet Foxes. I keep coming across new bands, and have no time to pursue them all. But I like it.

Thursday, March 05, 2009

So here goes again.

Once more the hope of something that might be, and something that, if past history is anything to go by, won't be.

When did I turn into the pessimist in this show?