goodbye 2006

Who is behind the wheel when the wagon goes off road into a mud?
Who urges the horses until the foam leaves flying traces in the air?
Who has the power to blindfold the eyes of that little girl in the ball?
---

It rather be over now, but I feel it surely is not the end. Not yet.

I will be away for a few days, visiting relatives. When we return on December 30, we will be celebrating my son's 10th birthday. We are planning to spend and celebrate New Year's Eve at a friend of us and this means I won't be writing anything before January 3, 2007.

Happy New Year to us all!

I do plan to write, however, a short summary about 2006. It might not be that short, after all... I had lots of new experiences - bad and good as well. In short: I'm glad to have met and made virtual friends with you through blogging. The long version is yet to come.

Below is a movie version of one of my favourite REM songs - Everybody hurts. Skip if you dislike the band :)

a short notice

Christmas is here and during the activities I have a little rest. I did feel awful on my birthday but now it is somehow allright. Watching the kids' joy in the new toys and all those fancy food we have, candies, chocolates make my day. I try not to feel that demon that lurks around the corner. Or rather put it this way, I try not to let it close enough to me. I get myself involved in activities. I received some interesting books and reading them, playing with the kids, cooking, visiting relatives and worrying for my girlfriend who became suddenly hospitalized for thrombosis on December 25 makes me see the world through a different lense.

the above photo was made on December 24, 2004 - by me. this year the tree is the same tree and the decoration is almost the same.

edging the verge

the ballroom is crowded as ever
laughs jingle, smiles crumple
people all around
electric laughs, wired emotions,
bitter kisses and sour goodbyes
electric light.
motionless touches, clattering, clusmy, muddy words.
I felt alone and that it's time I left the building and so I did
why bearing the scene for a breath more
when this is just exactly how it happens just about anytime
so I traded the false, fading warmth to
a hazy, wind-fissured night
the breeze was drifting from the swamp
there I stood at the edge
and it was there that I inhaled the air
and got intoxicated by its spleen
I closed my eyes and wished for a dream
but that never came
I remained longing for a dream
that never really came
and the longing made my days offensive,
blank, barren and vain
I knew all that I need is some energy to watch things at a different angle
to see the shine and the light
to become easy
to mingle with the happy medium
and when I saw that the serious can be blessed, too
I wondered what am I, who am I to not fit in
and I still wonder along the nights and days that are left mine
and mine alone
who am I to not fit
who am I
to be the one to fight yet being unable to draw a single sword,
the one to conquer yet being maddened by one drop of tear,
the one to win yet being burdened by visions
who,
bordering the four-o
not yet halfway through with this all
yet wondering if that is what it is all about
finding more and more
and using less and less
not wanting anything really anymore
just-
that dream I wanted,
the dream I wanted to become
all those sparkling ideas to fulfill
all those landmarks to feel familiar with
where am I?
just-
a single dandelion that is ripe enough to start flying off to space and time
yet being trapped again
by flesh and cravings, momentary attachments
let me go
I have to let them go
I have to let them go
and let myself go flying high,
high and higher leaving myself behind
- please lift the anchor
the ship is off to go any minute now
but I keep returning to flesh
to regrets, tears, joys and pains but I know I should
let myself go flying
please lift the anchor
the ship is off to go any minute now

today

is just another day before my birthday. I wrote this today, while walking on the way to a friend's house in the evening. This is not the thing I referred to in my last entry, this is something else. This is I wrote in Hungarian. Someday I will translate it.

Esőcsepp vagyok, harmathullás,
vékony gyengécske vízcsobogás
mondd Uram, mit érek én?
Orkán, szélvész helyett...lassú szellő,
telt folyómeder helyett...ócska teknő
mondd Uram, el, mit érek én?
Hova kezem nyújtom, kihűlt űrt markolok,
Hová lábam teszem, ibolyát taposok..
érdemes-e mégis, mit gondolsz?

alone

This is a clip based on the movie 'The English patient'. The song's called 'Sola', meaning 'alone' in Spanish. Sung by Dianna Navarro in a most meaningful way.

div>

All my dear friends and friendly visitors, Christmas and two birthdays in the family are commencing. I might not be able to check my blog and yours as well everytime - I will keep a diary on paper so that I can make sure everything is recorded. I already have another little poemlet at hand and I might post it soon. Now, I'm off to cleaning the house, making Christmas food for the family, decorating the house, visiting relatives - I suppose that's about we all do at this time of the year, don't we?

For those who wish to hide and weep instead I wish a little peaceful island among the waves of rage. Letting anger out and embracing light and understanding. For although anger is right, letting it out relieves the pain.

Merry Christmas for all of you.

Advent, Santa Claus and Christmas activities

'blogger has run out of beta' - isn't that ridiculous? But that's not my topic.
Advent, Santa Claus and Christmas activities in Hungary in general, or rather, in our family....

I have seen the interest arising around facts I spillt out about Christmas habits over here. I spoke about the Advent Wreath (which I lazily translated Advent Ring instead) here. This is put on the dining table, or on the most important table in the whole house.

Later on I described how Santa Claus visits houses where kids live here. Santa Claus comes usually in the morning of 6 December putting candies, chocolates, fruits and nuts into the well cleaned SHOES of kids. Some families have taken up the habit of having it put into stockings as the rest of the world does, and also their kids receive toys as well, but that's far from our traditions. Santa Claus also visits kindergartens and schools this day. It is usually impersonated by an actor, or by the nearest big strong man available :) - in our kindergarten it was the gardener...

Santa comes in red which is a shame. For most people it is not a question to be bothered at all. Enough said of that already here.

Santa Claus comes and goes away on the 6 December. He has nothing to do with Christmas, and rightly so.

Advent means waiting for Christmas and Christmas is when Jesus was born, according to the legend, that is. So, Christmas presents are brought by Jesus, or by angels, or by the Christmas tree itself. Or, by the grandmother, grandfather and other relatives :)

The Christmas tree is erected on 24 December. Not BEFORE Christmas as it is a Christmas tree. One might divert from a tradition but that, in my book is wrong. We have traditions. We keep them so they keep us. And so the order is kept.

In some families, the Christmas tree is decorated by the parent(s) and the tree itself is a miracle and big surprise for the kids. In other families like ours, the tree is decorated together - parents, kids, small and big, decorate it TOGETHER.

The Christmas tree is a pine. In the Hungarian pine means 'fenyő'. Within the word 'fenyő' a sensible Hungarian feels the words 'fenn' meaning 'high' or 'up' and 'fény', meaning 'light'.

Basically this is what Christmas is about. The light that comes from above. Not in the phisical sense of 'above', but in the spiritual sense. At the same time this is when the daylight that has been diminishing ever since Midsummernight starts increasing again. This is why light is associated with Christmas. The light of the Sun brings warmth, thus life and so does love.

Here's a relevant poem I found today, the original is Finnish, translation done by Anniina J.

A perfect one for Christmas.

Olen kuin vanha talo. Jos lakkaat lämmittämästä minua, rapistun. - Risto Rasa -

I am like an old house, If you stop heating me, I will deteriorate. - Risto Rasa -

Christmas presents are placed under the tree and are revealed on Christmas Eve, one the 24 December. De-boxing is always fun for kids. On 25-26 December, families gather and celebrate together.

In most of the households, the Christmas tree is a freshly cut pine. Some families prefer plastic ones so as to keep it for the next year. Some, including ours PREFER NOT KILLING A TREE in the name of seeking Christmas joys so we bought a tree with roots and all and set it up in a large container. We keep it outside in the garden during the year and bring it inside on the 24 December. We decorate it like I said and disassemble it on 6 January.

Most families keep the tree however until mid or late January. Than they throw it away. Had your joy? Throw it away. I find it disgusting. But that's just probably me... And don't tell me it's like buying potatoes or carrots that are cultivated in fields, similarly to those Christmas trees that are cultivated too, for the occassion. Killing a tree is killing a tree.

Our ancestors worshipped trees. And they adored streams and wells alike. Unless in special need they left them unmolested. They used them well and kept them for further generations. This present world makes me sick.

The New Year's Eve has nothing to do with Christmas so I won't speak about that.

30 something years ago my parents found a small package under the Christmas tree. It came into being on December 23 and someone put it under the tree during Christmas. It was a small bundle of a baby girl. They did not really like it, because it was not a boy. But I will overcome this little factoid, too. This is just what I am doing these days and weeks. Because I did want to become a girl, a woman and so I did. My parents liked me of course. But me, not belonging to the desired gender could not save their marriage, because they did not really like each other. It was not me they did not like, it was each other they could not put up with. Sometimes it takes 37 years to understand sensible and simple facts like these. But finally, I am here to understand it all. And I like my parents nevertheless.

This had to come out. And I'm feeling better now.

speaking of

languages, I am troubled now.

I started this blog more than a year ago. I started it in Hungarian, for it was of no question for me. This language has always been the primary way of expression for me. This is how I absorb rhymes and poetry in general this is where the words crumble like a good piece of bread in your mouth - you feel each particle and get nourished by the compound as well. Never in my life have I expected to be able to feel the same way towards any other language. Cause those are secondary ones.

I had a somehow painful flick with Spanish for a while and had some times learning German too, but the list of my secondary languages, composed of only three languages is and has always been topped off by English.

I never thought I would be able to write in English and by writing I mean something that has meaning beyond words, something that not unlike to a dress covers and reveals, plays with you and comforts you.

I sometimes am surprised by what I am able to 'produce' in this second language of mine... I am sometimes mad at not being able to do something similar in the language I adore the most... as if from time to time I abandoned my husband for a lover, and kept returning home....and each time I enjoy the flirt...

yet feeling somehow...misplaced.

I, just today translated a poem a friend wrote.

I felt the need because I felt the poem so much it came under my skin instantly.

But I did not write it...did I?

I admit having done some alterations to the text, but you know how it goes with translation. It's not the words you translate its the meaning.

I am unsure.

Why am I not able to use my beloved first language for expressing myself?

Is this an excuse to escape from reality?

I think I'm going to gulp down some good Hungarian poetry.

Cheers.

Your opinion are welcomed.

winter fog

winter brings white cushions
filled with smooth feathers
to protect, to save, to keep
the fallen leaves waiting, who now are
dreaming of the soil they are
to become before the Sun rises again
over the skyline to fill the scene
once again with feathers and beaks
in a time yet to come
over here, over this garden
gasping for air in the clinch of fog
darkened by the night where rain's dripping
on the roofs of the henhouse
to be visited by a fox
on its quick-paced paws among
the sleeping birds who in fear
of getting slaughtered scream and squeak
into the black desolation so as to wake
us and consciousness
whipping them alive slowly is weakened
to a voice barely audible
among the clouds it is just like a sigh
over moors when the wind blows off
those will-o-the-wisps away....

six words for eternity or for good

First of all, let me express my thanks for Anniina's encouragement towards my writing, my therapeutic experience with blogging, poetry and life in general.

In one of her posts, she refers to the WIRED magazine's six-word competition for writers. For more details, check the original site and competition here.

I found it challenging. And so here's my version. (Six words marching into the finale below):

Compose. Revise. Rewrite. Delete. Give up.

What am I up to?

Dear visitors,
I am sorry for the lack of updates this week.

First, let us have a funny moment by looking at the above photo. You may or may not have seen it somewhere over the wide net of the inter...I have found it yesterday and I like how the little kid actually licks the nose of the pig. For those who have kids, this is very funny.

Okay, go on to some harder nuts to crack.

I have been awarded by a very kind reader of mine, who suggested my compilation of whinings, literary stumblings as a blog worth checking. I always feel dizzy and incompetent at being praised. Or even suggested as being worthy. I feel torn BETWEEN taking a great breath and leaning back at the chair, patting my shoulder and (in a strange twist) jumping as high as the sky feeling able AND feeling small, unimportant. It is definitely a fault of mine, which, in due time, I will conquer. Or that is one of the things I'm trying to do in the foreseeable future.

So.

To this end, and to many others, I have started attending kinesiology sessions. It means that I, or my family is in the focus and the therapist tries to help me/us in the way ahead.

I visited him (the therapist) this Wednesday. I was quite allright beforehand, and the session revealed lots of traumas and false dispositions - the strange thing is that I was aware of them all, or most of them. Guess that makes someone going to a therapy, right?

Yet.

I. AM. CONFUSED.

The following idea came into my mind just in Wednesday evening:

---------

I remember floating in space among stars

this is the planet I chose

this is the family I saw fit

I recollect opting for a female body and fate

this is the father and mother I chose

this is the fate I found fit

my dreams, my deeper inspirations

for the utter development

I have come to terms

for I saw myself coming to this very place

by my intentions and my intentions alone

to be part of the Universe

I, Luca* have finally arrived

-------------

This thing above is a...khm...let's say it's a result of the therapy written in words. Not more.

* Luca is a FEMALE name in the Hungarian language. It originates from the Roman Lux, Lucille (bringing light) and is related to the English Lucy :).

We pronounce it L-oo (as in the English word:wood)-tz (as in pretzel)-uh (as in Sun).

-------------

Move on.

The therapist warned me to look for signs of my subconscious, because I might or might not be determined to become driven off of my road to happyness. Yes, by my own very self. Did I know all that before? Positive. Or at least, I felt it. Sometimes it takes a therapist to awake someone and to be shown a potential way out.

Let me try to go forward in this road...

This blog has always been a therapy for me.

What will change from now on?

Probably nothing.

Why do I bore you with all this?

Because it's my therapy. Writing things out, finding facts and pictures about the development...

Somewhere along the way it might as well become funny and interestin to witness... If it has been of some interest for any of you up to this present day, it will remain the same, too. Don't you worry :)

Now, this is what I dreamed this night:

----

Two giants fighting with a ball

trying to get hold of it

One, a muscular, strong man is dark

as the deepest bark on the oldest tree in an abandoned forest

when the ball is with him he kicks it hard

trying to push it over into a precipice

the other one, a lean , more gracile man woven of light

is also about the have the ball

if he wins over his antagonist, his plan is to deliver the ball closer to the source of light

and what a fight there is between them

wills clashing

but-

within the ball there is light

a soul that has just arrived from above

a little, mighty soul of a girl

with eyese attached on the giants

-----

right now I am confused and see myself as this cat portrayed on the photo below: S/he sees the events, is mesmerized by what s/he perceives, yet has no potential to control.

Csontváry

IllMan of Glasgow has produced a photograph and published it here. The atmosphere reminded me of some works of a Hungarian painter called Csontváry Kosztka Tivadar. So I looked it up and found an English page about him for those who can't read Hungarian. It's here.

I like his landscapes and town pictures as well. Some of his his paintings are captured at times when the natural source of light (sunshine or moonbeam) is weak so there is need for artificial light.

Here are some of his masterpieces. Enjoy!

This one's above called 'Joy-ride in Athens'.

This one above is located in Jajce. Following his inner call and to gather artistic impression he travelled a lot. He spent some considerable time in Italy and around and later, he went to the Middle East as well.

This one was inspired in Naples, Italy (Napoli, Italia) and is called Sunset... I love, LOVE it!

And this final picture is probably one of his most famous pieces. It's called 'The pilgrimage to the Cedar of Lebanon'.

let us dance by the streams of moon
while it is full, sieving through the tangle
it's time we held hands and entwine around the fire
one and one
will become one again

the light
the air
the stars above

all acknowledge us
the stir of love
the wisdom of time

stop the spinning

I am the world
for I took a deep breath
and whenever I let the spirit out I can be anything and its opposite, too.

I am an actor who falls asleep on stage, a poet who discards his words, a mother who feeds on her own children, a bird that picks up a straw only to see whether it was a snake or not, a piece of stone that roams away from the hill, a drop of rain that is inspired to go back to the cloud... a misplaced fury behind the rainbow...

a wipe of wind that smashes them all over again...

and so I do inhale again

yesterday

I'm sorry to interrupt this interesting flow of discussion about various Christmas and Santa Claus customs in various countries. I will go on with that topic, I promise.

But yesterday I wrote this and as a writer-documentarist with a proper sense of duty I felt obliged to take note of my feelings.

Here they are with a photo by Szabolcs:

I feel like having inhaled over too much of life recently. I'm changed and the alterations inspire, encourage, accelerate and frighten me. I have met the other side these days. The one that has always been there, a silent and constrained companion, that is.

I've taken too much into me and I feel like exploding any minute now. Or might just get some sleep. Let's hope that some rest will save me. Pray that it saves me.

I was just thinking about love - Christmas is coming my friends

Santa Claus has arrived this morning. My son cleaned all the shoes we wear nowadays (4 shoes altogether) and after letting them dry out, we placed them carefully in the window. That is where the presents are foound this morning. It is the Santa Claus that brings the presents on 6 December. (photo below depicts my son in the morning when we discover the sweets and delicacies in the window - photo was made on 6 December, 2005 by me)

Did you know that the story originates from St Michael, a Russian nobleman, who pleased and surprised the kids of the poor with little presents and food? He used to wear WHITE clothes in the big Russina winter - no wonder, just imagine you do not want to be seen by so as to make it a surprise... You would not want to wear RED which is so clearly visible, would you in your normal mind?

So why does Santa Claus wear red all over the globe now?

Yeah, it's business.

As red catches the eye more aptly.

As people notice it quicker. As red is a sign to accelerate your level of adrenalin. Do not meditate over the niceness of the late Michael's goodwill and proper deeds.

Do not immerse yourself into thinking.

It's business, I told ya.

Go and get something. You need something. You do. Even if you don't.

All right, you don't, but it is ME who is in desperate NEED OF MORE MONEY. MONEY. MONEY.

Forget about love. It's money, honey.

(above there is a devil made of cake. We received from one of our friends as a Santa Claus surprise fro the kids in 2005.)

Advent activities

in our home include the making of a special Advent ring. I buy a standard non-decorated hay ring at the market and the family (me, my husband and two kids) decorate it at home according to our taste and to what we have at home. We often collect leaves and dried flowers. Sometimes we make the candles, too, from bee's wax sheets. This year I bought nice candles along with the hay ring, but the rest of the decoration is based our collection. We made it on 30 November. My son had hard times waiting for the first candle to be lit this past Sunday - he was eager to see the flames. He exclaimed that this is how a perfect Andvent ring should look like. I'm happy to having seen him content with what he'd done.

So here it is:

I think its bordering perfection :)

Another Advent activity for the kids is to see and wait for the doors of the Advent home to become unlocked per each morning. This little house was done by my husband and by my then 2 yo son years ago. The house itself is a small house with exactly 24 doors. Each year during the Advent, morning by morning another door opens and the kids find something nice and edible inside. It is the miracle of angels for them. Should they ask whether we put the sweets in there, we would kindly tell them the truth. But not before they need the truth. It is part of their childhood, so as is the magical appearance of presents under the tree at Christmas Eve. We tell them that as long as they believe in angels it is the angels that bring them presents; sweet delicacies and toys, books and such.

At school, kids surprise each other with presents, too. The teacher writes the names of each kid on a paper and the kids, one after another takes one piece of paper, thus deciding who will surprise who at the school Santa Claus event. This takes place on 6 December.

once again

remembering 23 October 1956-2006...

this is a video link I received a day ago. I know it's past the time, but there are English subtitles to the film so that you can have a better look at the situation...