aftermath

Am intrat in open space intr-o dimineata la 6 jumate, totul era pustiu, se auzeau doar serverele bazaind infundat, luminile erau stinse iar in casti imi cantau vocile astea bulgaresti. Puteam sa jur ca sunt singurul supravietuitor al unui dezastru planetar, ramas sa bantuie inutil cladirile de birouri si sa asculte vantul fosnind pe bulevardele parasite pana la sfarsitul veacurilor.

unholy union

“Well, son, a blog is formed when your loneliness and your narcissism fall in love with each other.”

prozac [25]

In statie la Lizeanu trei pensionari rad veseli. Ma uit la ei pe geamul autobuzlui, nu aud ce-si spun, dar sunt intruchiparea relaxarii. Unul din ei tine in maini o sticla de coniac si una de vin, ambele fara dop. Sticlele circula intre cei trei cat sta autobuzul in statie, unul din ei are trening adidas, cel cu sticlele are placa dentara. Imi vine sa cobor sa trag si eu o dusca.
Pe Magheru, la Bucharest Comfort Suites, un tip iese despuiat pe balcon. Ma uit la el zambind de pe scaunul din spate al masinii. N-are nicio treaba, nu se misca ostentativ, pur si simplu i se falfaie, il invidiez.
Stau pe o banca in spate la Hanul lui Manuc, soarele ma bate in crestet si e teribil de senin, imi aprind o tigara si imi vine sa ma intind pe scandurile de lemn dar alaturi e biroul de politie si am o mica ezitare. Fotografiez seninul desi stiu ca va iesi prost, vreau doar sa-mi aminteasca dupa-amiaza de duminica in care am stat aici si a fost bine.

La parterul blocului, cand si cand, apare o fata in capot si fumeaza o tigara in timp ce vorbeste la telefon, priveste in gol sau isi pileste unghiile. Sta vizavi de ghena, iese in semi-intunericul ala si ma intreb cum isi imagina viata cand era mica, la parinti.
Gazonul din fata cladirii de birouri e martorul fericilor mele trecatoare. Calc din nou pe verde si imi amintesc senzatiile de acum un an, de-acum doi-trei-patru, din urma cu niste luni, din alte primaveri, din alta vara, filmele in care traiam si cat de bine imi era in ele. Nu pot sa regret nimic, doar faptul ca s-au terminat, nu pot sa simt nicio inversunare pentru oamenii care au fost si au plecat, e numai un soi de recunostinta ca iata, mi-au dat prilejul sa traiesc niste lucruri. Stropitorile care imbroboneaza aerul la 8 dimineata, pe care le vedeam si voiam sa le povestesc; dalele de beton din fata turnurilor gemene pe care topaiam dinspre tramvaiul 41, tenisii mozolindu-se de iarba in timp ce eu visam la te-miri-cine, si aceasta capacitate de auto-iluzionare fara de care nu stiu, zau, cum as scoate-o la capat. Peste toate, pe sub toate, prin mine, un fel de feel-good song fara tinta precisa. “Rescue me” de la Sensual Harassment.

far from the madding crowd

“People empty me. I have to get away to refill.”

Charles Bukowski

how it ends

Din cand in cand ma strabate cate un gand care mi se pare mai rasarit, sau cumva important, si ma apuc sa-l notez pe telefon. In mesaje draft. Pe urma, de obicei, il uit acolo. Pe asta de mai jos l-am regasit ieri, nu mai stiu cand il salvasem dar recunosc starea. Si melodia o recunosc, a fost pe repeat ceva vreme. Nu stiu ce legatura avea guma de mestecat in toata afacerea. Poate ilustra doar sictirul total, placiditatea cu care zaceam in 335-ul aglomerat, lipsa de perspectiva si indiferenta in fata acestei lipse, amorteala nici confortabila nici altcumva, amorteala si atat.

 In pasaj la Obor – gand acut despre cum o sa mor si o sa ma descompun si o sa ramana doar praf. Nu e panica. Un fel de curiozitate obosita. Devotchka – “How it ends”, chewing gum.

Ce mai faci, ma intreaba lumea. Ce mai zici. Cum o mai duci. De fiecare data trebuie sa fac un efort ca sa incropesc un raspuns cat de cat coerent. Altfel as spune de fiecare data acelasi lucru. Nu fac nimic. Nu zic nimic. Nu gandesc nimic. Nu astept nimic. Nu sper nimic. Nu cred nimic. Nu vreau nimic. A, ba da. Vacanta. Sau, in fine, “concediu”. Liniste. Odihna. Umblat aiurea prin oras si baut o cafea la o terasa si zile in care sa nu am nimic anume de facut. Privit casele si oamenii si crengile din parc. Citit, daca am chef. Dormit, daca am chef. Uitat pe pereti, daca am chef. Sunt perioade cand traseul de furnica imbecila birou-acasa, birou-acasa mi se pare revoltator, stupid, insuportabil. Si fara nicio iesire care sa se intrevada la orizont. Pai sa nu-ti vina sa-ti iei campii? Sau sa vomiti? Sau sa urli la cineva?

Ce insemnare banala. Ce revolta previzibila. Nu conteaza. Sunt ale tale, deci varsa-le aici.

grapefruit

ECHO TELEPHONE PIECE

Get a telephone that only echoes back
your voice.
Call every day and talk about many
things.

*

CITY PIECE

Step in all the puddles in the city.

*

HIDE-AND-SEEK PIECE

Hide until everybody goes home.
Hide until everybody forgets about you.
Hide until everybody dies.

*

TAPE PIECE III

Snow Piece

Take a tape of the sound of the snow
falling.
This should be done in the evening.
Do not listen to the tape.
Cut it and use it as strings to tie
gifts with.
Make a gift wrapper, if you wish, using
the same process with a phonosheet.

MAP PIECE

Draw a map to get lost.

*

MIRROR PIECE

Instead of obtaining a mirror,
obtain a person.
Look into him.
Use different people.
Old, young, fat, small, etc.

*

AIR TALK

It’s sad that the air is the only
thing we share.
No matter how close we get to each other,
there is always air between us.

It’s also nice that we share the air.
No matter how far apart we are,
the air links us.

*

BLOOD PIECE

Use your blood to paint.
Keep painting until you faint. (a)
Keep painting until you die. (b)

*

WHISPER PIECE

a) Whisper. Ask the wind to take it to the
end of the world.

b) Whisper to the clouds. Ask them to remember
it.

c) Whisper what happened that day to the
reeds. Weave a pair of sandals with them and
send it to a friend.

d) Whisper all your secret thoughts to a tree.
Make a guitar out of it and send it to a
woman.

e) Whisper a secret to a young tree. Make a
chair out of it and send it to a man.

f) Whisper your name to a stone. Send it to
a stranger.

g) Whisper the first word that came to you
to a person next to you.

**

Once we were fish
moving freely in the sea.
Our bodies were soft and swift
and we had no belongings.

Now that we crawled out of the sea
we are dry and full of cravings.
We wander city to city
carrying the memory of the sea
(but it isn’t just a memory).

Listen very carefully and you will hear
the sea in your body.
You know, our blood is seawater
and we are all seacarriers.

**

The mind is omnipresent, events in life never happen alone and the history is forever increasing its volume. The natural state of life and mind is complexity. At this point, what art can offer (if it can at all – to me it seems) is an absence of complexity, a vacuum through which you are led to a state of complete relaxation of mind. After that you may return to the complexity of life again, it may not be the same, or it may be, or you may never return, but that is your problem.
Mental richness should be worried just as physical richness. Didn’t Christ say that it was like a camel trying to pass through a needle hole, for John Cage to go to heaven? I think it is nice to abandon what you have as much as possible, as many mental possessions as the physical ones, as they clutter your mind. It is nice to maintain poverty of environment, sound, thinking and belief. It is nice to keep oneself small, like a grain of rice, instead of expanding. Make yourself dispensable, like paper. See little, hear little, and think little.

Yoko Ono – Grapefruit

hold on

nu te panica. nu te gandi la ce va fi si pe unde vei pleca. nu-ti mai face socoteli cu “de ce tocmai acum cand…“. we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. e soare azi, e vineri azi, ti-ai gasit in sfarsit tenisii aia la care te gandesti de-un an, o sa dormi si o sa fie bine.  friday feel-good song, deci, ca tot n-ai mai facut asta de multa vreme. Wild Belle. now that you want me it’s too late. c-asa e-n tenis. iar saxofonul ala suna minunat.