The Fly of the Butterflies

There once was a little girl who found a flower by the pathway. The flower was weeping. ‘Why are you weeping, Flower,’ asked the girl. ‘Because somebody threw me here alone and I can’t find my way back to where my friends blossom under the sun,’ answered the flower. ‘They are red and blue and purple, some have orange in their hearts and some yellow. They make the world pretty and so they are happy. I will fade here all alone and I will make this pathway look desolate and ugly. This is why I am weeping.’ ‘Don’t weep, Flower, I will help you’ – and the girl planted the Flower in the ground, so that it could stand proud and watered it, so that its petals could be bright and fresh, and then she took off her bracelet, made of small paper daisies and placed it by the Flower. ‘Now you will never be alone again and you will never fade and you will always make the world happy,’ said the girl. ‘But I will miss you very much, Girl, if you go… Will you come back to water me and to sing to me?’ asked the Flower. ‘Yes, I will,’ promised the girl, ‘because I love you, Flower.’

The girl then took the pathway to a small lake in the woods and sat on the grass. She hummed a lullaby and all the trees and stones and fish heard her and took up the melody. The girl smiled and her song flew joyful with the wind and reached a nightingale hidden amongst the branches above. ‘Sing with me, Nightingale,’ said the girl, ‘and there will be no better song than ours.’ ‘I can’t,’ answered the Nightingale and a tear escaped under his lids, ‘I lost my song and I cannot make the world happy anymore.’ The girl felt his sorrow and said ‘I can help you, Nightingale, I will lend you my Song and you will sing again and bring incredible joy to the world!’ And so she did. The Nightingale started singing a sweet melody and the whole world was awed.’ ‘But I will miss you, Girl, and I will only sing sad songs. Will you come back and smile to me?’ ‘I will,’ promised the Girl, ‘because I love you, Nightingale!’

The girl then left the meadow by the lake and headed towards the hilltop to watch the sunset. On the way she met a little boy, dragging slowly a red cart with a grinning teddy bear in it. The boy was looking at his feet, sniveling. ‘Why are you so sad, Little boy, and with such a jolly friend beside you?’ asked the girl. The Little boy looked up at her with eyes half-crying. ‘I am sad because I lost my smile and this made my momma very sad. I brought her a jolly teddy bear, but she is still unhappy. She wants me to bring my smile back, but I can’t find it and I don’t want my momma to be sad.’ The girl looked at his sullen face and his little pout lips and felt in an instant the stinging of motherly concern at the loss of her child’s happy smile. ‘I will help you, Little boy, she said, I will lend you my smile. You will bring it back home and make your momma happy!’ ‘Thank you Girl, the boy jumped with excitement and hugged her, then ran back home, the red cart jilting behind him with the teddy bear inside, whose grin now looked dull in comparison.

The Girl then climbed the hill and looked at the setting Sun. Saddened and confused she said ‘Sun, what am I to do! I cannot go back to Flower, because I cannot sing and I cannot go back to the Nightingale, because I cannot smile again. My friends will be sad without me!’ ‘Send them these butterflies,’ replied the Sun and three butterflies fluttered gracefully before the girl, their wings dancing through the air. ‘They will remind your friends of your song and of your smile and they will know that you are singing and smiling again, together with the Sun.’

K. A.

Tags: children books, fable, short story

My Long Spoilt Artsy Weekend

I have been thinking about the irrationality of art – or the lack thereof, and I think I am vouching for the latter. The whole creative process has so many organizational, financial, logistical, etc. aspects that the cherished moment of pure creation, along with the attached respective muse, are just too small of a fragment to count. So, art creation is very rational, and so are the moods it entails – the fear of the blank everything – blank page, blank canvas, blank PS document; the joy of sharing and, alright, boasting everything not entirely blank; and that constant anxiety to fulfill your artistic ambitions. The last one has been bothering me for years now, because too many moments, when I have craved to snap a decent photograph (note the verb I used and you will know how pro I am in the art of photography ) or draw even a stick-man, have passed by. Mostly because there are always so many other important things to be done.

Which brings me to my point – I have decided very rationally to be irrational for a weekend and dab into all my past and present favorite artsy hobbies, however mediocre my skill might be (and however annoying the very attempt). So the plan is to paint and shoot a few photos, to revisit old stuff I made in my arts classes at school, and then to write something worthy of posting on Goodreads (or at least translate an old story). Hopefully at least one of these will turn out fine and I will be free to resume my rationally rational ‘more important’ doings on Tuesday.

Meanwhile, all over this post are my last three pictures. I am happy with the Sunset landscape and the trees, the former I watched a tutorial video for and it kind of looks ok. The flowers, though, are frustratingly bad.

Tags: arts, painting, photography, vacation, writing

My first ‘painting’

Recently I have lamented my childhood passion for discovery and creation.  Why are kids such natural talents and grown-ups so inhibited in the urges they follow? Anyhow, I decided to resurrect my long-forgotten passion for painting. Fortunately, YouTube and a thousand how-to sites and blogs make it very easy to start a hobby and to even sport a certain snobby elitism while showing off your amateur works. So I bought some acrylic paints, canvas and a few brushes, watched a couple of videos and voila – my first painting! I guess it would hurt the eyes of a real artist but I was back in the game and quite happy about it. Yay!

Tags: amateur art, art, hobby, landscape, painting

The Vow Goes Beyond the Visible

I am disappointed to find that this movie received very harsh feedback and the majority of online forums/publications/blogs anathematize it as a brainless chick-flick. This has actually turned into a trend recently – romantic dramas are very often thought to be crappy and cheesy just based on a general attitude towards the genre. One is tempted to make quite a few conclusions about social values, but this should not be the purpose here.

The Vow is very restrained when it comes to sugar-coating and makes an effort to stress on the greater theme of finding oneself. The actors played their parts well enough, the characters were charming and believable (although I have to admit that “the friends’ group” was one- dimensional) and Jessica Lange was there to deliver a touch of greatness during her heroine’s big moment. The funny lines were right in place to lighten up the mood without pushing it too far and the actors did not slip into overdoing it.

The story is inspired by true events, but this does not make it a documentary, so I think criticizers should cut some slack here – the melodramatic scenes are just the movie being true to its genre, but it also manages to bring up a lot of valid points. I was also very pleased that Paige’s relationship with her sister was neither too cold, nor too affectionate but very realistic; also Jeremy – he could have made for a very boring and annoying plot line, but was actually quite believable, too. Overall this movie is as much about the love story as about the family story and the personal development story. So, basically, if you enjoy romantic movies but despise chick-flicks, this is one of few new titles to enjoy.

Tags: amnesia, Channing Tatum, Jessica Lange, love story, Rachel McAdams, Sam Neil, The Vow

Elizabeth Kostova’s The Swan Thieves – a Review

I loved The Swan Thieves for its psychological depth and balanced emotions. It relies mostly on retrospective narrative through the memories of the characters. I have tried a couple of times to read Kostova’s other novel, The Historian, but the writing didn’t work for me, I thought it was a little snobby in its redundancy and not compelling enough to make up for that. However, The Swan Thieves is nothing like it.

The development of the plot is not as central as the development of the characters. The story is told by three character – Marlow, Kate and Mary, in first person, and it is amazing how Kostova manages to build their characters by stressing on the different way they perceive Robert’s mania, their reactions to it and even the way the talk about it – Kate’s simple practical considerations vs. Mary’s more abstract drama, the former’s preoccupation with dealing with the consequences and the latter’s attempts to find a place within Robert’s imaginary world, without admitting the implications of his obsession.

The parallel plot, revealing the secret passion of the fictional artist, Beatrice de Clerval, is more romantic and dramatic, the hidden driver of action. It is not overdone, which I think would have made it a distraction rather than a catalyst; the revelations that follow, Marlow’s finding about what truly happened with Beatrice and Olivier were very emotional, but also very believable and real, due to the introduction of the temporal link, Robinson.

Last but not least, the book does a great job with describing art and artists in their different level of dedication – from the prolific manic Robert, to the genius Beatrice, the studious Mary, the busy Kate, who has surrendered her love for art to transfer it to her family, and then Marlow, who tries to fit somewhere between these extremities. Definitely a rewarding read!

Tags: Beatrice de Clerval, book review, Elizabeth Kostova, imressionism, literature, retrospective, The Historian, The Swan Thieves

The Psychedelic Boutique

1967's shop front featuring a giant pop-art face of Jean Harlow / photo: Leith_al

“One should either be a work of art or wear a work of art”

I have never wondered who dressed the Beatles, Jim Morrison and Pink Floyd up until now. Dismissing their style as personal fashion mistakes, dictated by the peculiarities of the age is quite easy. Clearly music and fashion are like passion-blinded secret lovers, eager to spawn a litter of earnings for the respective industries and hordes of loyal fans, living up the ideologically prescribed lifestyle. But it took me a while to realize that the tacky velvet or print jackets are very similar to those we see at the forefront of the recent vintage comeback. And they are suddenly not that tacky, not that random. Not random at all, actually. They happen to be the trademark of the “first psychedelic boutique in Groovy London of the 1960s.” It was created by Nigel Waymouth, Sheila Cohen, and John Pearse and developed as one of the first lifestyle-boutiques, selling awesome unique clothes and attracting the rich and the famous.

The store changed appearances regularly and deliberately and decreed that “One should either be a work of art or wear a work of art.” Soon enough, the music scene reacted with a literal recognition of the store’s cultural influence – a song named after it. Unfortunately BBC banned it, suspecting that the word “trip” was referring to LSD.

A nice selection of photos from the boutique can be found here.

Tags: fashion, groovy, London, psychedelic

The Lost Identity

Once upon a time we talked about stereotypes and gang wars, culture of hate and intolerance. Today I would rather talk about the lack of need for tolerance, or rather the culture of abstract hate. This is not about politics or even about ethnic clashes. This is about adolescence. I don’t believe we form at that age, I believe we deform going through puberty, dealing with peer pressure and sexuality and spend our twenties trying to become the person we used to be before the crazy hormones made us freaks. Well, the more you retrieve from that old identity, the better – this is who you are. The thing is, the teenage part always remains, be it as a dormant trait or just a hue of bearing. Or in many cases – as an inappropriate hideous wardrobe. There is something very specific about this wardrobe, though – it is pretty consistent with the image you’ve been desperately trying to pull off while trying to hide from the world. And what strikes me these days is that teens have forgotten to be consistent. Unlearned. They are totally lost; I don’t know how they are going to make it through. Yesterday I happened to pass by some club, which was hosting a rock/metal event. I came up with this assumption pretty instantly, since the crowd waiting at the front featured some 30 guys in black leather jackets, sporting long hair and a beard, everyone wearing a T-shirt with a death metal band picture. Well, personally, I don’t take well on such happenings. Most of the times I try not to breathe in and walk very fast. Sorry, guys in leather, I don’t mean to offend, just I have had a sufficient number of encounters with some of your kind, and, well, they don’t exactly wear perfume. Stereotypes, stereotypes. Anyways, it was good there was a place besides the usual pubs to host an event for this specific audience; especially since the trend is that new fancy places are exclusively for house fans. So, keep it up, people-with-identity, although I personally do not like your teen wardrobe. But a few meters from the crowd I saw the modern archetype of the non-decisive teen. Cross-dressing you know, is only allowed across genders and when you are slightly older. In this case, two 15-year-old girls, also boasting a rock/metal attitude, Slayer Ts and some badass make-up, had also had their hair straightened and volumed up. Wtf? This is what cheap sluts at the pop/strip bar should look like after 1 am, not teenage girls and certainly not the pseudo-non-conformist rebellious ones. The worst part is not that they did not get the style of thei borrowed identity, but that they did not go after a specific one. Gosh, what are we gonna do with people who cannot even differentiate!