Childhood friend

Под копни волос проникнет ли удар?
Мысль
одна под волосища вложена:
"Причесиваться? Зачем же?!
На время не стоит труда,
а вечно
причесанным быть
невозможно".

I wish I could translate this poem of Vladimir Mayakovsky in English. I used to translate some of his lyrics in Georgian when I was sophomore at university. Maybe I will one day. This one is about why combing one's hair when you can't remain combed forever... it is all about you, what's in your head. At least that's what I think Mayakovsky meant.

I have been connected to Mayakovsky since childhood - the office where my mother worked was facing his huge monument. He was standing there in the rain and sunshine with his strict face, big feet and with the cloud in his pants I guess (облако в штанах). And I was walking by him everyday after school, thinking whether it was his hat around his head or his hair. Now I believe it was the hat.
There is nothing like childhood memories, is there? Probably that's when my love to Russian poetry began and I was meant to live this life of wanderer, searching for the truth. What else is poetry than searching on and on.

Mayakovsky was born in Georgia indeed. I guess that's why he had got this bold attitude. Ok, I have this little nationalist thing about my country, but face it - Georgia is this tiny winy country caught in the middle between huge Russia and Turkey, and still lots of famous and talented people were born there, who excelled in arts, politics and etc. So there is something about the land even if you were just born there you have got passion and attitude in your bones.
If so, one may ask, why did Mayakovsky and I leave that country in the end? Perhaps we wanted to miss it more, to feel it more and to dream of it in our violet dreams.

Honestly, life is very prosaic as my mother loved to say when I was younger, and I never understood it. Life is what you make it. Life is yours, only yours. It is not about poetry or proses, it is about individuals - sunshine and thunder.
My life is not that. It is a movie :)

Baltics

Мы эмигранты
И грустны и странны
Наша дорога бесконечна
Найти и снова
потерять
Наша дорога бесконечна

My teenage friend Rebekka just shared Alina Orlova's videos. She is so cute. I mean Rebekka, and Alina too. They are both from Lithuania :) have curly hair, beautiful eyes and free spirit. I don't know there is something about Baltic people. They have this unexplainable melancholy mixed with cold beauty that makes you fall for them. And actually they both, Rebekka and Alina, have this funny accent in Russian. I never thought I would say this because my accent is not less funny, especially the way I pronounce some specific letters.

It's also funny I have never mentioned before on my blogs that my grandmother from father's side was Estonian. I have never met her for she died while giving birth to my father. Yep. My father has been in trouble since he was born. Trouble man. It must be terrible if you realize that your mother died having you, no?
Although I have always imagined her, the grandmother I've never met, as tall, skinny woman with big green eyes, blonde or reddish hair, wearing vintage dress and walking on the sun... her face glowing and eyes dreaming about seeing me - her granddaughter she never really saw. It's funny, I suppose I've been imagining her as the young and lovely woman, why would she dream about me anyway? I think every girl has thought about her grandchildren even once in a lifetime. We all would like to imagine having grandchildren one day who will look like us a little, who will remember us, who will dream of us and say sweet things about us. I cannot say if I look like my grandmother, even though I used to have strawberry blonde hair as a child.

Life is just as that song of Alina's - "emigrants". So realistic. Sometimes I feel like I am this eternal wanderer - dwelling here and there, looking for a place and space to find serenity.

Runaway

Seymour Glass is the only suicidal man I love. And you know why did he do it? Because he had seen it all, he had loved people, read all the books, and just decided to go there where he would feel better. I think I would never be friends with Seymour for I would have fallen in for him and could've not noticed his deep spirituality. I am designed for Buddy who is crazy, witty and little clumsy comparing to Seymour.

Anyway (say it in New Zealandish accent), Monday's fading away and what I have learned today is that life is not causal, damn it, it is rough. I posted about Drew Barrymore on my Georgian blog, about her sad eyes in her new movie "Going the distance" and what I mostly wrote about her was meant for myself.

Seriously, I looked in the mirror yesterday and it was some strange woman looking at me with her red eyes and crazy hair (need to dye soon).
Although I look very fine on the photos even I could have not guessed what's wrong with me, but there is something wrong. I feel like a mouse in a cage, you know the one that is running, running and still remains there?
Because right now I don't know where to run. I have no particular place to call home :| For I do not feel home anywhere :/ As my old story's character Sunny would have said: 'Nothing is worse than being a flower cut off its roots and placed in a vase.'
Yes, I still miss my Georgia very much.

Le Fille Sur Le Pont

Daniel Auteuil and Vanessa Paradis in "Le Fille Sur Le Pont" (Girl on the bridge)

Oh, it's Tuesday which means tomorrow is Wednesday, then Thursday and soon Friday. Friday counts as Shabbat. And Shabbat means home cooked food, interesting conversation with the host family and no connection to any electric stuff. What a righteous person I am, gosh. Well, you know my spirituality, if I always talk about it you'll go crazy so let me be funny and shallow tonight. I sound like blonde :D

Daryl Hannah

This week is being quite good actually. Don't feel sleepy anymore, but have been thinking about this crazy T-shirt Daryl Hannah wore back in 90's. It's absolutely crazy but I see old men and think, hell, do they also need love? Probably they do :/

Winona Ryder and Richard Gere in "Autumn in New York"

I admit that I like men with little grey hair like of that Richard Gere or most amazing French actor Daniel Auteuil who has performed millions of different roles in French movies and still is so unique with his "adrienbrodyish" nose and grey hair. I've learned that women have different attitudes (if you say so, Soph) between and during their period cycles. That is world known fact that women depend on the Moon more than any other human being. So I should go and check out where the moon is standing right now. For it really makes me wonder why have I started to think about dirty old men's love problems? Who cares. I know no old man, do I? At least no-one with grey hair like Richard Gere. Oh my! I wish I did.
Dear Doctor Freud, can I come in? ;)

Lucky number 8

I've never believed in signs, numbers, but I've always believed in luck.

I mean, you may do everything you can, but you can't push the Luck to be on your side. Call it fortune, fate - whatever, I believe in it. Hashem should help you with it.

I believe that G-d loves me a lot.
Everytime I need something it comes to me this way or another.

Well, yesterday we had to make a choice and take out the number (for the hair and make-up lady visit on Sunday) to reveal the winner of the free hairdo and make-up. Girls started saying: 5, 7, 4, 10... Suddenly I remembered that number 8 is quite symbolic in Judaism, so I asked them to take the number 8. Everyone agreed, I'm sure they thought the same about it. But - under this number was only my name, Baruch Hashem! YEAH!!! My very name. I am the winner of the free makeover.

You know I love experiments, but now my hair desperately needs to get beauty treat anyways. Thus, G-d helped me. I don't care if someone call it just a coincidence, or Newton-Archimede's principles. I know Lord is always with me and helps me in even such not-so-important issues. On my georgian blog, I wrote about Woody Allen's 'Match point', where he's talking about the power/luck which makes tennis ball bounce over the net or fall right out of it. In tennis they call it luck, when ball touches the net and falls over, and what do you think I'd call my hair-thing?

Have a great Shabbat!!!

(Don't forget, G-d is everywhere!)

Not me

Sometimes I do such a crazy things I can't recognize myself.
Like I talk to someone online and I know I should not be 'cos it doesn't make sense. But the problem is that this senselessness attracts me and I become 'me'. Kind of creep, you know, or you don't :P

Today I happened to see Radiohead's 'Creep' and remembered the winter of 2005. What a crazy winter it was, man! I just can't forget. I had so much fun and pain at the same time. I don't know whether I'm grateful or not now, but I think it might not be right but it was ok. I've learnt a lot. Dreams may harm one's mentality, but inspire for poetry and etc.

I love creep.
I love the feeling of it. Of creepyness, of hidden creepyness inside bright sunny smile and fair hair, like that of Thom Yorke's ;)