And then you realise that climbing the second storey of the bus was perhaps a bit too adventurous. But you know you will survive. You always do.
Welcome to my world; reality doesn't work here.
неделя, 8 декември 2013 г.
Marathon.
Do you know the feeling when you run and you are already tired and gasping for breath? Of course you do. Hundreds, no, thousands of needles are piercing your lungs; your body begs you to stop. But you don't stop. It hurts, but it will hurt even more if you do. Thousands of knives will readily cut into your muscles the moment you halt. And as if that is not enough, you'll have to face the breath of the cold December wind all by yourself: he is busy saying goodbye to someone else. So you go on. Your feet wearily bounce off the pavement, with only your shoes to keep them from going faster. Suddenly you feel you have stopped. You seem to have run into something. Something pretty. You don't really see it; your shoes hurt and you are not paying attention. Reality check: you paid so much for those shoes. You tie the strings around your wrists. Tight and blue, so the blood cannot escape. This is the moment when your body catches up with your soul; your tired, naked skull ricochets against the wall and bounces off your bare feet. You chant words you don't understand. But it is too late.
неделя, 1 декември 2013 г.
To Faversham and back (with 13 pictures)
Today I went to a place called Faversham to give a concert in Faversham Assembly rooms with Camino and Daniel. I knew little, to say none at all about the destination.
The place itself turned out to be outside London and in order to get there we had to leave really early in the morning, at the crack of dawn, as one of my Performance practices lecturers used to say. In his case, however, the term was used to describing much later an hour and was intended sarcastically. Quite on the contrary, we were geniunely sleepy and freezing. It turned out that we were to go beyond the "end of the map" for us (which was Dartford) and as if this was not enough, we even passed a place bearing the cheerful name "Grave's End". We even saw some sea.
The first thing that caught my eye in Faversham was this birdy thing:
Awesome, isn't it? Not sure what is its practical use, but that makes it even more awesome.
We were welcomed very nicely and were offered coffee, which I was the only one from our trio to gladly accept; my embarrasment didn't last long though, as it was very much needed. The hall was very nice and not at all as cold as one might have expected; and the piano was well tuned. To my surprise, the hall was packed. First Camino and I played a movement from Anton Garcia Abril's Sonata for violin and piano. Then she and Daniel played a number of very short and very folky Bartok violin duos. It was great to see the audience respond to the music; to me, the little friendly laughter at the end of short pieces is among the nicest things one can hear.
After that I played Vladimir Djambazov's 33:8. It is so much fun to play. I will never forget one occasion when I nearly got thrown out of a hall for attempting to break the inventory, because of trying out a moment when you have to tap the rhythm on the wooden part of the piano.
We continued with pieces for two violins and piano by Moshkovski and Shostakovich. It was our first concert together, but it went well.
The audience was just lovely and it was a pleasure playing for them. I remembered one very cool lady who had about fifteen piercings and at least two tattoos. (She came to talk to us afterwards.)
After the concert we had a delicious (and free) lunch in the pub next door, which I didn't take photo of because pictures of lunches are being taken too often anyway, even without my contribution. Instead, here is a spicy thing from the bathroom:
[click on the image to read, and make sure you: 1. don't read it aloud to your five-year-old sibling/very traditional auntie 2. read it until the end, the end is important!]
Camino and Dani had to rush back to town for a rehearsal once we finished our meal so they went to catch the train. I, on the other hand, felt like a stroll in the town before heading back, so we parted ways.
* * *
I went down the street and two minutes later I walked into the main street and into this cool bench:
It was prop heaven. They had everything starting from clothes, funny hats, pictures and jewelry, glasses in all shapes (and apparently the glasses from the 30s are different to those in the 60s) and ending in boxes full of strange toys for £0.50 each. here was a nice Scottish piano that visitors are welcome to play. Needless to say, yours faithfully couldn't keep her paws off it. There was an open book of Chopin's Walzers so I played a couple of them.
I had a chat with the shopkeeper, Michelle -she was a really lovely lady. She told me she only just got the place and doesn't know what will happen with it in the future. She also told me that next Saturday they are going to put the piano on the street so people can play it; and invited me to come and play.
It is a lovely place, with Michelle, and the Patsy Cline recording, and a really nice and friendly Mily (she didn't bark once at the visitors!) If you ever are around, make sure to check it out. This is how it looks from the outside:
* * *
It was a market day, and the streets were covered with forests of miniature potted Christmas trees, organic vegetables, antiques and stalls with homemade cakes. There were some carols too; nice to see a place where all the premature Christmassy stuff is actually not annoying!
I liked Faversham with its clocks, charity shops, old houses, narrow passages, and smiling people. I think I will come back. Maybe even next Saturday. Why don't you come too?
The place itself turned out to be outside London and in order to get there we had to leave really early in the morning, at the crack of dawn, as one of my Performance practices lecturers used to say. In his case, however, the term was used to describing much later an hour and was intended sarcastically. Quite on the contrary, we were geniunely sleepy and freezing. It turned out that we were to go beyond the "end of the map" for us (which was Dartford) and as if this was not enough, we even passed a place bearing the cheerful name "Grave's End". We even saw some sea.
The first thing that caught my eye in Faversham was this birdy thing:
Awesome, isn't it? Not sure what is its practical use, but that makes it even more awesome.
We were welcomed very nicely and were offered coffee, which I was the only one from our trio to gladly accept; my embarrasment didn't last long though, as it was very much needed. The hall was very nice and not at all as cold as one might have expected; and the piano was well tuned. To my surprise, the hall was packed. First Camino and I played a movement from Anton Garcia Abril's Sonata for violin and piano. Then she and Daniel played a number of very short and very folky Bartok violin duos. It was great to see the audience respond to the music; to me, the little friendly laughter at the end of short pieces is among the nicest things one can hear.
After that I played Vladimir Djambazov's 33:8. It is so much fun to play. I will never forget one occasion when I nearly got thrown out of a hall for attempting to break the inventory, because of trying out a moment when you have to tap the rhythm on the wooden part of the piano.
We continued with pieces for two violins and piano by Moshkovski and Shostakovich. It was our first concert together, but it went well.
The audience was just lovely and it was a pleasure playing for them. I remembered one very cool lady who had about fifteen piercings and at least two tattoos. (She came to talk to us afterwards.)
After the concert we had a delicious (and free) lunch in the pub next door, which I didn't take photo of because pictures of lunches are being taken too often anyway, even without my contribution. Instead, here is a spicy thing from the bathroom:
[click on the image to read, and make sure you: 1. don't read it aloud to your five-year-old sibling/very traditional auntie 2. read it until the end, the end is important!]
Camino and Dani had to rush back to town for a rehearsal once we finished our meal so they went to catch the train. I, on the other hand, felt like a stroll in the town before heading back, so we parted ways.
* * *
I went down the street and two minutes later I walked into the main street and into this cool bench:
It was not long before I got in the first shop. (It was called Goodness Gracious... and I thought it was an unusual name).
I had a chat with the shopkeeper, Michelle -she was a really lovely lady. She told me she only just got the place and doesn't know what will happen with it in the future. She also told me that next Saturday they are going to put the piano on the street so people can play it; and invited me to come and play.
It is a lovely place, with Michelle, and the Patsy Cline recording, and a really nice and friendly Mily (she didn't bark once at the visitors!) If you ever are around, make sure to check it out. This is how it looks from the outside:
* * *
It was a market day, and the streets were covered with forests of miniature potted Christmas trees, organic vegetables, antiques and stalls with homemade cakes. There were some carols too; nice to see a place where all the premature Christmassy stuff is actually not annoying!
I spotted a large toy Garfield in one of the charity shops and am very to have him now. :D Also played with his real-life counterpart with half-orange half-black face:
the end! =)
вторник, 1 октомври 2013 г.
[MEME] When playing the piano
On my way back today I was thinking about how different things are on stage and in the comfort of the practice room. Nothing particularly smart came to mind, but that's what did, in the primitive form of a meme.
WHEN I'M PLAYING THE PIANO IN A PRACTICE ROOM
How people see me:
WHEN I'M PLAYING THE PIANO IN A PRACTICE ROOM
How people see me:
How I see myself:
WHEN I'M PLAYING THE PIANO ON STAGE:
How people see me:
How people see me:
How I see myself:
And finally, HOW I SEE MYSELF WHEN I MAKE A MISTAKE:
Isn't my life epic? xD
събота, 28 септември 2013 г.
Chestnuts and scrabble
I stayed up until 5 AM last night, watching the Big Band Theory and the new Anna Karenina, and finally got up at the reasonable hour of 12:25 when a smell of stuff getting fried sneaked out of the kitchen, came into my room and occupied it completely, despite my open window.
There was no exam to haunt me anymore and I could do anything I wanted; I decided to walk to college. It was one of those warm and sunny, but already cold inside autumn afternoons which always feel so full of expectation. Expectation of what? I do not know. Maybe it is a memory from my distant childhood. However, all the amazing days of this sort that I can remember have been filled with this feeling of expectation, which made them special; and I am convinced that I remember it not from the past, but from the future. I was thinking about behavioral patterns and if rethinking childhood fears can help resolving one's impaired social interaction abilities. For example, I used to be afraid of going up and down staircases with space between the stairs and the window, because I thought I could fall into this space. On the other hand, maybe if one is trying to explain things using the words 'behavioral' and 'patterns' in the same sentence, one's social interaction abilities are beyond repair.
I was kicking horse chestnuts down the hill, looking for Brown Brooke, a mystical foresty place that I've come accross once before. Kicking chestnuts is like being in love. Or maybe not really; but the world does come in the form of neat definitions in autumn afternoons such as this one... Is our world 3D or 4D anyway? Or eternity-D? Speaking of eternity, I bought a Salvador Dali picture for £5 from the Community Hospice on Tuesday; it has the famous liquid clock on it. The clock is missing number 8; I wonder why. Maybe a misplaced 8 would be too obvious a symbol of eternity. However, eternity is already implied by the destruction of time; then, maybe the absence of 8 implies it even further; perhaps for the dumbest symbol-seekers. Food for even further thought: the clock is also missing 1, 2 and 10.
Anyway, it looks well on my wall.
Couldn't find the place I was looking for; but I found some nice gardens, pots and clay figures on someone's window, secret passages and a quiet, squirrel-infested park. Why was it called a 'pleasurance'? I was sure the name fit well, because it was pleasant indeed. Then I saw the roses and graveyard; cried a bit at the gravestones of the seamen, then a bit more at a sea veterans memorial, before going on.
Maybe the next step after organic foods will be organic information. People of the future will avoid google and the rest of the internet as a source of 'junk' information; Wikipedia is already being rejected as the informational equivalent of McDonalds. Also maybe there will be different versions of books and films, even music translated for different type of users... . Translation will either become that accomplished, or completely obsolete, bringing oblivion to everything that is untranslatable. The first is by all means better; still, I shudder at the thought of a low-refined-emotion version of The Lord of the Rings.
And, ah yeah, I am now the owner of an awesome real magnet Scrabble; who wants to play?
There was no exam to haunt me anymore and I could do anything I wanted; I decided to walk to college. It was one of those warm and sunny, but already cold inside autumn afternoons which always feel so full of expectation. Expectation of what? I do not know. Maybe it is a memory from my distant childhood. However, all the amazing days of this sort that I can remember have been filled with this feeling of expectation, which made them special; and I am convinced that I remember it not from the past, but from the future. I was thinking about behavioral patterns and if rethinking childhood fears can help resolving one's impaired social interaction abilities. For example, I used to be afraid of going up and down staircases with space between the stairs and the window, because I thought I could fall into this space. On the other hand, maybe if one is trying to explain things using the words 'behavioral' and 'patterns' in the same sentence, one's social interaction abilities are beyond repair.
I was kicking horse chestnuts down the hill, looking for Brown Brooke, a mystical foresty place that I've come accross once before. Kicking chestnuts is like being in love. Or maybe not really; but the world does come in the form of neat definitions in autumn afternoons such as this one... Is our world 3D or 4D anyway? Or eternity-D? Speaking of eternity, I bought a Salvador Dali picture for £5 from the Community Hospice on Tuesday; it has the famous liquid clock on it. The clock is missing number 8; I wonder why. Maybe a misplaced 8 would be too obvious a symbol of eternity. However, eternity is already implied by the destruction of time; then, maybe the absence of 8 implies it even further; perhaps for the dumbest symbol-seekers. Food for even further thought: the clock is also missing 1, 2 and 10.
Anyway, it looks well on my wall.
Couldn't find the place I was looking for; but I found some nice gardens, pots and clay figures on someone's window, secret passages and a quiet, squirrel-infested park. Why was it called a 'pleasurance'? I was sure the name fit well, because it was pleasant indeed. Then I saw the roses and graveyard; cried a bit at the gravestones of the seamen, then a bit more at a sea veterans memorial, before going on.
Maybe the next step after organic foods will be organic information. People of the future will avoid google and the rest of the internet as a source of 'junk' information; Wikipedia is already being rejected as the informational equivalent of McDonalds. Also maybe there will be different versions of books and films, even music translated for different type of users... . Translation will either become that accomplished, or completely obsolete, bringing oblivion to everything that is untranslatable. The first is by all means better; still, I shudder at the thought of a low-refined-emotion version of The Lord of the Rings.
And, ah yeah, I am now the owner of an awesome real magnet Scrabble; who wants to play?
събота, 24 август 2013 г.
'I left my window open, Casanova.' - 'Too many windows, too little time, my dear.'
One door closes, other two open;
That's when a multiple personality disorder comes in handy.
That's when a multiple personality disorder comes in handy.
четвъртък, 22 август 2013 г.
Boxes
'If you insist so much on being out of the box, how do you expect us to sell you?'
'On the other hand, you will be surprised by how many things you can fit in a box of the right size' - he stirred his tea for a bit with a dreamy expression before turning back to me - 'I'm here to help you. Consider your options.'
'On the other hand, you will be surprised by how many things you can fit in a box of the right size' - he stirred his tea for a bit with a dreamy expression before turning back to me - 'I'm here to help you. Consider your options.'
четвъртък, 15 август 2013 г.
website nightmares
A week too late for doing my Professional Portfolio assignment, or perhaps two weeks or even a few months late, who knows, I'm finally starting to freak out a bit about it. I spent all evening trying to come up with a website design on wix.com, which is considered to be a relatively popular and easy option. Having some experience with stone-age webdesign from 7 years ago, I thought it would be a piece of cake. If only! After 3 or 4 hours of desperate scribbling, uploading, dragging and refreshing I ended up with a lousy background, a misplaced title, an invisible gallery and a growing dislike for every webpage generator of the 'you see what you get' variety. Life seemed so much easier before, when you could come across as really cool with as much as a simple html code. It is true that it was mainly due to the fact that not many people knew what the hell was html; but still.
<HEAD>website</HEAD>
<time>
<patience align='deadline' href='contents'>scribbles<fail size='infinite' align='pathetic'>^*&^$£*£</fail></patience>
<time to sleep>
The new day has come so I am calling it a day for now; let's hope the webpage will magically decide to behave itself more tomorrow, or that any of my friends agree to fix it for me in exchange for a few beers. o_O
And it is just a small portion of the work that needs to be done still; next come the business cards, photoshoot, twitter, myspace, facebook artist page, CV and a much-dreaded essay. Good night.
<HEAD>website</HEAD>
<time>
<patience align='deadline' href='contents'>scribbles<fail size='infinite' align='pathetic'>^*&^$£*£</fail></patience>
<time to sleep>
The new day has come so I am calling it a day for now; let's hope the webpage will magically decide to behave itself more tomorrow, or that any of my friends agree to fix it for me in exchange for a few beers. o_O
And it is just a small portion of the work that needs to be done still; next come the business cards, photoshoot, twitter, myspace, facebook artist page, CV and a much-dreaded essay. Good night.
събота, 13 април 2013 г.
Under the rainbow
Under the rainbow,
Over the skies
When I won't miss you any more
We'll meet again
You'll be fire
And I'll be strong enough
(Wise enough)
not to burn.
Over the skies
When I won't miss you any more
We'll meet again
You'll be fire
And I'll be strong enough
(Wise enough)
not to burn.
събота, 30 март 2013 г.
Tonight II (Other Plans)
No, no, no
I cannot come tonight
No, no, no
I have got other plans tonight.
I promised that I'd stay in
No, no, no
I have got other plans tonight.
I promised that I'd stay in
To help a friend with folding road maps
But we will go out,
I promise, we'll hang out another night.
I promise, we'll hang out another night.
No, no, no
I cannot come tonight
No, no, no
I have got other plans tonight
No, no, no
I have got other plans tonight
I promised that I'd stay in
I'll be waiting for the clock to move
But we will go out
I promise we'll talk another night.
No, no, no
I cannot come tonight
No, no, no
I have got other plans tonight
No, no, no
I have got other plans tonight
But sure you have lots of things to do
Fall with water, work with fire
Fall with water, work with fire
So see you later, I cannot come tonight.
Not tonight.
Not any other night.
Not tonight.
Not any other night.
Blue Birdhouse
blue birdhouse
blue birdhouse,
blue housebird,
house bluebird,
bird houseblue
in the river
blue birdhouse,
blue housebird,
house bluebird,
bird houseblue
in the river
четвъртък, 28 март 2013 г.
Tonight
bits of poems are twisting around me
like ropes
like hopes
made of wire.
suspended.
Do you count the looks I failed to hide from you? Do I count heartbreaks
Or the words that you spared?
In a desert
Would you count
the
sand?
I have forgotten
Now...
You don't feel
You don't feel
You don't feel lost anymore.
***
Tonight
I should have been smiling at somebody else.
totally random... after a night out when I was not really supposed to be out. I had some thoughts that made sense I swear... but all sense disappeared the moment I went out of the shower. :D
сряда, 27 март 2013 г.
Of Violins, air and more
A couple of mysterious violins could be seen from the central staircase of Trinity College today.
They, allegedly, have something to do with an upcoming string music festival in the college.
Despite the originality of the idea, not everyone was happy with it. 'This can only happen in Trinity', exclaimed an appalled string player, imagining a cello being hung in the air like that.
It is, however, not the first time the staircase is involved in such unconventional installations. During the John Cage festival in October 2012 there was a bird cage suspended from the ceiling and one could hear bird-whistling all the way to up. Even earlier, the staircase - as well as the courtyard and main entrance - was stage for a bunch of dancers who were lying with their faces down on the stairs or standing or in weird positions - all in complete silence. I remember how totally bizarre I felt that day, walking in college with a pineapple and a black toy cat in my bag and thinking that it could get more strange than that and seeing this.
I asked, what was the meaning of it.
That's fair enough as the main beauty of conceptual things, art or whatever, is in being not allegoric but applicable, e.g. there could be as many an idea behind something, as many people are experiencing it. Still I wonder... there is something beyond a 'right answer' I'm looking for when I ask for the meaning. Not yet sure what it is exactly, though.
'It is art, it doesn't have to have a meaning',
- a friend said.That's fair enough as the main beauty of conceptual things, art or whatever, is in being not allegoric but applicable, e.g. there could be as many an idea behind something, as many people are experiencing it. Still I wonder... there is something beyond a 'right answer' I'm looking for when I ask for the meaning. Not yet sure what it is exactly, though.
Back to the violins. To me they look as if they are flying. Apparently, art can defy gravity. Or at least violins can - when suspended on metal wire.
вторник, 26 март 2013 г.
I wonder
Fifty shades or resignation,
And a silver lining to your hair;
Some strings should remain untouched,
Some answers should remain unquestioned.
The forecast for tomorrow is that
there will be weather,
Again.
I wonder -
Where do the guilty looks live when it rains?
Where do they to sleep at night?
And a silver lining to your hair;
Some strings should remain untouched,
Some answers should remain unquestioned.
The forecast for tomorrow is that
there will be weather,
Again.
I wonder -
Where do the guilty looks live when it rains?
Where do they to sleep at night?
Over the River (Leave If You Must)
Island to island,
Shore to shore,
Sorry I burned the bridges,
Sorry I tried to keep you all to myself.
Now you can lean on me
As you jump
over the river.
Shore to shore,
Sorry I burned the bridges,
Sorry I tried to keep you all to myself.
Now you can lean on me
As you jump
over the river.
събота, 23 март 2013 г.
Winter's back!
Apparently, despite the calendar, Spring has no intention to come and settle in Greenwich whatsoever. Just to think that a couple of days ago everything actually looked like this:
(Including the window, as, not surprisingly, I was practicing most of the time). This morning, however, in addition to the traditional gushing of wind through my ill-insulated PVC window, I woke up to see some serious snowing going on. With snowflakes floating in the air and all. Bright side is, I get to share some photos from a similar in spirit (but lovely, at the time) occasion in January from my college campus and the surroundings.
Hope you enjoy :)
If only
If only I could sing,
Then I would try to please your ear
And leave out what I really think;
Then I would try to please your ear
And leave out what I really think;
If only I could dance,
Then, surely, maybe you would grant me
With a first, or even second glance.
If only I could love,
Then I'd never ever mention it
Then, surely, maybe you would grant me
With a first, or even second glance.
If only I could love,
Then I'd never ever mention it
In case you've had enough;
If only I could rhyme,
Then I would tell you all I mean
Then I would tell you all I mean
And it wouldn't be a crime.
This is feeble and crap but, just because it is a Friday night; and because failure today is not as bad as it would normally seem to be. Also, because it is springtime, although the weather outside still doesn't know it.
Абонамент за:
Публикации (Atom)