Sep 22

Today was one of those leisure days when you walk around the city streets with acute awareness of the beauty around you; with seasons changing and the first autumn leaves wondering whether it’s time to start falling. It was one of those days when the sun shines right into your eyes- not enough so you have to put on knitwear but way enough to warm up your soul.  That kind of autumn sun that makes you anxious about the upcoming cozy nights in. So I decided to go to my parents’ place and pick up the guitar of my mom’s childhood. Last week I found a friend who’s willing to teach me the basics. So excited I went to collect it.

Rummaging for the musical instrument I also found an old yellow hula hoop- gathering dust in what used to be my room. The old guitar doesn’t have a bag so I had to walk the streets with it and the hula hoop both hung on my shoulder. I needed to buy something so went to a nearby corner shop. While I was on the alley choosing detergents totally out of nowhere a middle aged woman just ran up to me and started staring at my guitar. Her entire being was glued to my old instrument. Without even looking me in the eye she asks from which musical school I am and without hearing my answer takes the guitar off my shoulder and starts playing…

Several minutes of me floating in timeless space passed away. I was stunned. Nailed to the particular moment and place- right in the middle of the detergent isle. With a lady playing my never to be played guitar unless a special occasion (will talk about that more later). What she sang while playing was a popular Bulgarian love song. And when she started singing she looked up at me and held her gaze. Four eyes locked together. Can I even try to explain how I felt? Of course not! I can put words together but never be able to bring you to the stillness and vividness of the moment. So when she ended I couldn’t say a thing. Didn’t know how to bring myself to interact again. She made it easy for me. Concluded with some small talk on the strings, thanked me, and went away.

Walking up the street I couldn’t stop thinking how rare such moments are. How limited our every day communication with people is. How I am thinking how special a moment that was when I shouldn’t. Because it shouldn’t be special. It should be something we tipically do. Like a way of saying hi! Communicating but with no words. Staying in front of a person, completely aware of him/her without shedding a single word.

…Simply knowing. Aware. Present. Open…

Why have we become so detached from each other?  Why has the strive for individual achievements has made us so self-centered on our own development we deprive not only others but ourselves from that bigger something?

I never stopped thinking I want all that for the world. I need all that. I don’t want such spontaneity to be so rare we write about it in books, blogs, and movies. This is how people should communicate. With openness and joy. And sharing their love for what touches their soul. No social pretense, no being locked into an isolated frame of mind. I cling with hope to the following quote. Hope for there are other people in the world feeling the same way as I do:

“-We are born alone, we die alone and while we are here we are completely sealed in our own bodies. It freaks me out to think about it. We can only experience the outside world through our own slant of perception of it. Who knowed what you are really like. I just see what I think you are like.”

“-I am exactly what I appear to be. If you look closely”

“-You know the only thing that has made the whole thing worth while has been those few times that I have been able to really, truly connect with another human being”. A Single Man

Thank you lady!

Sep 15

That guy is brilliant!

Michael Johansson

Aug 31

I’ve been told this is one of the most famous TED talks. So most of you have already seen it. But what hits me is that if most of you like it this means it touches you in a way. You connect to it. Or it connects to a part of you which has already experienced what she’s saying. Which eventually means- so many people are in fact creative! They have just not mastered the appropriate means of expression.

It is indeed phenomenal how she structures her words. How she plays with them. Like she has disected and learned the potential of this tool called “English language”. So she builds like an arcitect with it. By learning what you can do with a tool  you can really start to play with it. For example, putting in ridicule to portray and sketch a concept of divinity.

Sometimes I feel truly powerless. I try to explain something but words are either so elusive or never potent enough to portray what’s in my head. So I use tons of words. I layer and layer and layer so eventually and very hypothetically  through the conglomerate of the piles of words used one could get a clumsy representation of my initial thought. Other times I just go down the lazy road and make up words on my own. Especially in Bulgarian.

But the real hard work, for which I admire  people like her is the effort to successfully put down a concept in mainstream language. To have the grandeur of inspiration but then make that effort to bring the concept down so we, with our limited senses and perceptions can communicate.  Such people are  not just a pipeline. They are hard workers. They don’t just see themselves like those pretentious bohemian minds who think they shoudln’t bother trying to put across their igeniousness to the “ungifted”. Because it takes courage and hard work to lay your message. Because people matter. And communication is essential!

And I firmly believe it is a struggle to learn to channel the energy coming from the brilliance of inspiration. To settle it through the limited means of language and touch other people. Hard work indeed! That’s why I like people who always have little pieces of paper around them; tiny booklettes in their pocket, a tape recorer in the handbag, or the appropriate application on their phone. It shows their desire to grasp- with the tools developed in our physical world – notions coming from that mystical idea place where the limits of language, sight, smell…do not exist. So, what I am eventually trying to conclude is: master the  physical tool so you can give birth to your ideas.  Be it language, drawing, crafts, music…For most of us get inspired soo easily and of the tiniest things. Which means so many people are artists. Some just don’t know it yet!

Aug 16

This is Dyado (Grandpa) Petko. Four years ago me and Ellie went on a romantic summer road trip themed “Bonnie & Clyde”. The goal was to drive from north to south and visit only desert beaches. While on our journey, in the middle of a God forgotten cracked, sandy road  with grass growing in between the cracks we saw an 80 year old hitchhiker. This hitchhiker was Dyado Petko. We drove him to the nearby rocks and eventually spent the entire day with him. Dyado Petko is a dreamy photographer. Actually, he is a super dreamy photographer. He has a tiny little  point and shoot camera thing but dreams of having an exhibition in Sofia. This is his wildest dream. Skinny, poorly dressed, but  still in a suit, walking on crutches. Nevertheless, the most amazing energetic adult I have met. He goes kilometres away from his village  almost every day to just take pictures. Of the same place. Always the same place.  The rocks. Slowly moving like three magic snails, enchanted by his stories me and Ellie listened in awe.  He told us of ancient people who lived in dwellings carved into the rocks ahead. And treasures buried nearby. Dyado Petko- shaky and fragile  walking like  some wise snail. No, wise turtle. With crutches. Like the one in Kung-Fu Panda. Wise Dyado Petko.

We brought him back to his rustic house to find out he lives no place else but at the far end of  a village, called  Tyulenovo (translates to something like town of seals).  His house is an accurate representation of how he looks. Situated next to a field, on top of a rock just above the sea. Cracked, with different paints, stiched, fragile, almost tilting to one side. With hay on the roof and a metal squaky front door. A vegetable garden. Cucumbers, watermelons, a rose or two, and chicken roaming around. We promised we would come back to visit next summer… Oohh, those empty promises we all throw in. Empty words out of politeness. Lingering in the air, waiting for some meaning to magically  be attached to them.

Last week I was in the region and decided to go to his house and check on how he is doing. I asked some strangers if they knew Dyado Petko only to find out he died 3 or 4 years ago. Perhaps months after our visit. I felt immense, mind numbing,  heart paralizing remourse for my unkept promise. Still, I went to check whether the house was there. Naively, to validate my  anticipation it dieing with him. Was I wrong!

Instead I found Dyado Petko had a lovely wife called Baba Radka. Her face was one of those  strong harsh old female faces  carved by sun, sea wind, and will. The will to go on and keep your garden green even without your dreamy man. Was she beautiful!!! I told her how we met Dyado Petko and  she said he did an exhibition in a small nearby town, not in Sofia. I asked to see his pictures and found he somehow saved 20 leva (8 pounds) out of his last pension for them to be printed out. But the pictures never got to her. So I got their son’s mobile (some 50 year old guy with a Che Guevara tatoo on his big belly) and got directions for where the print house is. Now I pray for the photographs to still be there. For I want to organize an exhibition of his work. In Sofia.

And invite Baba Radka.

Aug 03

These guys really know what they are doing. The show is just incredible. I get goosebumps every time I watch it. The last show that really persevered in my mind was Alexander McQueen’s 2009. But it was his vision and strong imagery of the pieces that made a memorable impression.  Now, Dolce and Gabanna introduce a mellow, more off the streets designs and play with your mind through building upon the show, hence a dream world around their pieces. Which fashion is all about- external expression of your inner dream world. Love it.

Jul 26

It means to start Anew. From the beginning. This is what everyone tries to do right after New Years. Making resolutions. This is what I did in January 2010. I made great plans. Long list. I was smart though. I made two categories: one with achievable goals and one with long term goals on which I want to start working during 2010. Why am I writing about New Year Resolutions in mid July? Because, I recently found that awesome list. And I started laughing how ambitious I was in trying to control my life.

Well, you see for the past half a year my life has been everything but that list. It has been so much more. Because I made it so.  Because I have learned to feel free. And this newfound freedom expresses itself in my daily choices. I feel free to call whoever I want to call not caring about being misunderstood again. I feel free to make plans with people I’ve just met. I feel free to start dancing lessons (for which I will devote a lot in an upcoming post I have been trying to write for the past month or so). I feel super free to drive my ridiculous vintage bicycle with a friend who laughed at me for four hours. I feel free to eat just vegetables, although everyone nags me for my proteins. I feel free to go away. I feel free to stay.

And I feel free to go in the sea on a powerboat. And drive it! Me- the motion sickness, no muscles girl driving a powerboat. And feeling super good. Mindblowingly amazingly gooooood!

So, my dear Vanya. None of this was in your New Year Resolutions, right? We can sketch as much life plans as we want. Practice those amazing planning skills. Feel good about checking the “achievements” out. But the best things in life come unexpected. You just need to be ready and open to seize them. And fully enjoy. Brrrrrrrmmmm…

Jul 07

Ohhhhh time…. Time has always been such a tricky concept for us to grasp. Even Einstein’s and Newton’s profound interpretations of time and space did not make us apply their relativity to our everyday perceptions. Of people. And the world.

In her book “The Fountainhead” Ayn Rand makes it very clear. Usually people say time goes by so quickly when it’s good and so slowly when nothing happens. Actually, it’s all the other way around. When your “now” is meaningful and full of emotions time stops. Moments feel like eternity. In retrospect, a week passed could feel like a year. Whereas, if nothing of substance happens- times twist and bridge. There’s nothing to fill in between “nothing” and “nothing”. So two years ago could seem like yesterday. And your whole life could fit in a blink of an eye.

So when that someone you were waiting for comes back it’s like he had never left. Times bridge!

Jun 25

If only we could all take people as they come. Not just viruses.

Jun 25

“I want to reconcile the violence in your heart

I want to recognize your beauty is not just a mask

I want to exorsice the demons from your past

I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart

You trick your lovers

that you are wicked and divine

You may be a sinner

But your innocence is mine”

Jun 22

I spent my entire weekend at the airport. Three days in total on a field at Terminal 2 of Sofia airport. Airplanes flying off above my head. And landing. At sunset. This was Park Live Festival. On Friday it was pouring. But we were there. Dancing in the field. Jumping joy! Listening to Groove Armada (Paper Romance, My friend). Everyone on his own. But still together.

On Saturday it was pouring again and we were soaking wet. So we decided to tailor make a tent out of a bright red raincoat. So we sat on the wet super muddy ground and spent our next hours under that raincoat. Four of us. Under a raincoat tent. Laughing our assess off. When the rain stopped we crawled out of our little world. To find out Gotan Project was playing. And people were dancing tango. In the mud! There were couples everywhere. Just dancing. Muddy tango. Real tango. Can’t stop looking at it tango. Unstaged. Mesmerizing. It made me think about love. And how it feels to be in love. How strong and overpowering this goddamn feeling is. How it cannot compare to any other experience or emotion. No fun stuff. No personal achievement. Nothing can compare! Because you feel it on your skin. In your brain. Everywhere throughout your body. So deep and collective of you. I wish everyone was in love. So they discover who they really are. Let go of all boundaries, preconceptions and control. That’s when you meet with your true self. When you see who you really are, how you feel and act. What you put across, how much you give in. How you care! And how you grow when it ends. But the warmth of it while it lasted keeps you going. And reminiscing about it. But in a good way. Most of the times!:)

Sunday it didn’t rain. We were all cleansed enough to enjoy dry land and Morcheeba singing: “Rome wasn’t built in a day”. Hey, hey, hey! We walked home. From Terminal 2 to central Sofia. Through bridges and highways. We kept on walking! As you do in life.

Air- All I Need

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