Monday, April 30, 2012

Sarkani ķieģeļu nami un Ketrīna /// Red brick houses and Catherine

Man vakar nelāgi sanāca aizmirst padomāt par Ketrīnas un Viljama kāzu gadadienu. Kad tā diena tuvojās, es mazliet apcerēju, ka varētu veltīt viņu laulības vienam gadam ierakstiņu, bet nekā. Vispār par viņiem vakar neiedomājos, lai gan pirms gada tas bija dienas notikums (nepārspīlējot ar pieticību, es gribētu izteikt pieļāvumu, ka tas bija nedēļas notikums), kuru iepriekš rūpīgi gaidīt un palaist garām grūti, jo dzīvoklī visi skatījās kāzu tiešraidi. Protams, kāzu gadadiena un pašas kāzas nav gluži viens un tas pats, tāpēc es uz sevi pārāk ļaunu prātu neturu. Taču tik un tā, manas atvainošanās un Londonas ķiegeļu mājas.

^^^^^
Yesterday I badly forgot to reflect on Kate and William's wedding anniversary. When the day was approaching, I considered dedicating a blog post for their one year old marriage, though eventually I did not do anything about it. They did not pop into my mind even once yesterday, although the year before it was the event of the day, (let's not dive into the waters of humbleness - I am pretty sure it was the event of the week). I was awaiting for it carefully and the wedding was quite hard to miss out as all of my flatmates were watching the live broadcast of the most exalting public wedding ceremony of the 21th century. Obviously a wedding anniversary and a wedding itself no dot equal, so I do not hold any grudges against myself. For all that, my apologies and red brick houses in London.


Kembridžas hercogiene kāda sava pielūdzēja logā /// The Dutchess of Cambridge on the window of an admirer




















Augšā kafejnīcā pie sienas bija bilde ar ielu, kā tā izskatās ziemā ar sniegu un gaismiņām /// Inside the cafeteria on a wall the was a photo of the same street in wintertime, with snow and lights




Kate on King street, Aberdeen, Scotland, June 2011



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Sunday, April 15, 2012

Mazās Mijas acis un ābolītis /// Red apple and Little My's eyes

Tas bija tiešām ļoti sen. Izskatās pēc Mazās Mijas acīm, manuprāt. (Tā dusmīgā no Trollīša Mumina. Viņa nebija gluži dusmīga, bet uzskatīja, ka neviens cits bez viņas tajā mājā neprot dusmoties.)
Vai arī! Man tikko ienāca prātā, ka mazlietiņ atgādina arī Brūnīša acis. Brūnītis bija mans bērnības sabiedrotais kopš 3 gadu vecuma. Kā jau gorillas pērtiķītim pieklājas, viņa skatiens nebija pats saulainākais, kāds jebkad redzēts šaipus Urāliem, un man diezgan bieži bija jāatbild uz jautājumu: "Kāpēc viņš ir tik dusmīgs?" un es vienmēr teicu: "Viņš nav dusmīgs, viņš ir domīgs!" un, visticamāk, paskatījos nedaudz pikti.

^^^^^
Looks like Little My's eyes I think. (The angry one from The Moomins/ Mumintroll. She might not be exactly angry though, she found the other habitants of the house unable to be angry properly.)
Or! It just popped into my mind that this also resembles the eyes of Brunitis a little ("Brunitis" - "The little brown one" in translation from Latvian, however strange that might sound. He was brown, okay?). Brunitis was my loyal companion since the age of 3. As it becomes for a young gorilla gentleman, his look was not the most sunny shiny one that has been seen on this side of the Urals, and pretty often I had to answer to such  a question: "Was is he so angry?" I always said: "He is not angry, he's thoughtful!" and most possibly threw a slightly irritated look.



Monday, April 9, 2012

2. aprīlis, vakars, drusku snieg /// April 2, evening, still little bit snowing

Tajā pašā 2. aprīlī (ir sasodīti grūti uzrakstīt "aprīlis" ar pirmo reizi, sanāk vai nu "parīlis", vai "arīlis", un ne pirmo reizi tā atgadās) vakarā aizgāju uz klasiskās dejas nodarbību. Ļoti sen, apmēram 6 gadus nebiju bijusi klasiskās dejas nodarbībās. Toreiz man patika tās sestdienu priekšpusdienas ar vienmēr vienu un to pašu ņipro klaviermūziku, ritmā veiktiem vingrinājumiem un centieniem saglabāt punktiņu griezienu laikā. Punktiņš parasti man pazuda, vai arī es vienkārši neaprobežojos ar tikai vienu vienīgu punktiņu, taču viss pārējais sanāca gluži pieņemami. Un mums bija pasniedzēja Taņa.
Tagad man pirmdienas ir brīvas, un es aizgāju, un man tik ļoti patika, es gluži vai jūsmoju, jā gan. Pa dienu bija nomācoši, un man uzreiz tik priecīgi sametās  no kustību sakārtotības un atliecienu šarma. Muguras atlieciens ar skatu uz sāniem un rokām 5. pozīcijā laikam ir mana mīļākā kustība. Deju zālē vingrinājās vairākas pamatskolnieces, viens puisis, divas sievietes, un paša izvēlētos brīžos pieslēdzās vienas sievietes dēls futbolista tērpā. Pārējā laikā viņš vāļājās uz grīdas vai ripināja bumbiņu. Baleta skolotājs Aleksandrs izskatījās pēc klasiska baleta pasniedzēja, pelēkā džemperī ar augstu apkakli un sirmiem matiem, un baleta stāju, kas laikam viņu jau gadiem nav pametusi.
Es tiešām ļoti sapriecājos. Maza pasaulīte ar savu kārtību un izstrādātu kustību plastiku, garām aizripo bumbiņa un skolotājs neļauj darīt lietas nepareizi. Mājās braucot vēl bija gaišs, un tad satumsa, krita retas sniegpārslas, un izskatījās pēc sašļukuša novembra. Tobrīd tas nelikās nekas briesmīgs, aprīlis tikai izskatījās pēc saskumuša novembra, un, ja viņš ļoti grib, drīkst tā darīt.

Ja es katru nedēļu turpināšu iet uz klasisko deju, es varbūt varēšu uzrakstīt bakalaura darbu. Vēlāk vakarā sajutu interesi par Lielo patskaņu maiņu angļu valodā, un es jūtu, ka tas viss noskaņo pareizā virznienā. Es pat varētu vairākas stundas sēdēt klusā, vēsā bibliotēkā un lasīt vecas grāmatas. Pirms pāris dienām pēcpusdienā klausījos Filipu Glāsu, šķirstīju Bodlēra esejas, pa laikam apgūlos gultā, un bija sajūta, ka es patiešām varētu arī rakstīt to darbu. Vēl man tagad ir sengrieķu mīti un Tristans un Izolde. Bijām ciemos pie vecāsmammas, un viņa man gribēja iesmērēt latviski - francisku 1941. gada vārdnīcu, jo es taču runāju franciski un vārdi taču gadu gaitā nemainās, bet nez vai es varu uzticēties vārdnīcai, kura man piedāvā "pajemt". Toties es atradu Žozefa Bedjē "Stāstu par Tristanu un Izoldi", kuru (ne konkrēti šo versiju) es jau kādu laiku ļoti gribēju izlasīt, man šķiet, man patiks.
Kad es sāku mācīties franču valodu, vienīgais patiesi derīgais svešvalodas pielietojums bija, kad es Lāsmai varēju iztulkot kādu franču frāzi Arcade Fire dziesmās un kad es pateicu, ka "triste" franciski nozīmē "bēdīgs, skumjš". Patrikam Volfam ir dziesma Tristan, un tur ir rindiņas "Sorrow by name / And sorrow by nature", un es visu sapratu. Patīk tādus sīkumus saprast.
Man liekas, dejošanas nodarbības man palīdzēs iegrimt vajadzīgajā noskaņā, es nekur citur īpaši neiešu, tikai uz bibliotēkām un dejošanu. Lasīšu vecus tekstus un rakstīšu piezīmītes, mazliet interesēšos par pavasara gaisu un ziedošām plūmītēm, dažiem draugiem, un atslodzei lasīšu sengrieķu mītus par dieviem un nimfām. Nimfas man diezgan labi patīk, un kādā velsiešu valodā mans vārds nozīmē "nimfa" vai "ūdens nimfa".

^^^^^
At the very same evening of the 2nd of April (it's bloody difficult to spell "April" properly with the first attempt; it's either "Paril" or "Aril", and this is not the first time) I went to a classical dance class. It is long time, might be 6 years now, since I have not been to any classical dance classes. At that time I loved those Saturday forenoons with always the same lively piano music, exercises made well in rhythm and attempts to keep the focus at one point during spins. I usually lost the focus anyways, or I simply did not restrain myself to a single focus point, all the rest I could do quite decently though. And our teacher's name was Tanya.
Now I have Mondays off, and I went there and liked it so much, I was nearly in raptures. The day was quite depressing, and then I got so cheerful from the arrangement of moves and the charm of bends. The backbend while looking sideways and hands in the 5th position might be my favorite move. In the class there were several secondary school students, one guy, two women, and at some moments by his choice the son of one woman joined us. In the rest of the time he was lying on the ground or rolling a ball. The ballet teacher Aleksandrs looked like a typical ballet teacher, in grey turtle neck sweater and gray-haired, having such a ballet-bearing that has not left him for years I guess.
I was really glad. A small world with its own order and well-developed movement system, a ball passes by and the teacher does not let to do the exercises wrong. When I was going home, it was still quite light, then it got dark, rare snowflakes were dropping on the ground, and it looked like deflated November. At that moment it did not seem too awful, April just resembled sad November, and if he craves it that much, I don't mind.

If I keep attending the classical dance class every week, I might finish my thesis eventually. Later in the evening I felt rising interest about The Great Vowel Shift, and I feel that all this brings the mood in the right direction. I even would be able to spend multiple hours in a quiet, chilly library reading old books. A few days ago I spent the afternoon listening to Philip Glass, browsing Baudelaire's essays, lying on the bed time after time, and it felt like I really could be able to actually write this work I am supposed to. Besides now I have got a collection of Ancient Greek myths and the book about Tristan and Iseult. We were visiting grandma and she wanted me to collect a Latvian - French dictionary (1941), since I speak French and the words don't really change over the years, do they. Anyways, not even regarding the fact that it can get fairly awkward, using French words with their 40 years old meanings, I do not think I can trust a dictionary that offers me "to beatan". For all that I found Joseph Bedier's "The Romance of Tristan and Iseult" which (not specifically this version though) I wanted to read for quite a while now, I think I'll like it.
When I had just started to learn French, its only proper use was my ability to translate for Lasma the French phrases in Arcade Fire songs. Also when told her that "triste" means "sad, sorrow" in French. Patrick Wolf has got this song Tristan, and there are verses "Sorrow by name / And sorrow by nature", and I got that. I like to get such details.
I believe that dancing classes will help me to plunge into the right state of mind. I won't really go anywhere apart from libraries and dancing. I will read old texts and make notes, will have a tiny interest on spring air and blossoming plum-trees, a few friends and for relaxation I will read Ancient Greek myths on gods and nymphs. I like nymphs pretty well, in Welsh my name means "nymph" or "water nymph".


Bildes no mācību iestādes, kura, paviršu skatu uzmetot, šķiet piemērota bakalaura darba rakstīšanas noskaņai. Žēl, ka viņi ne pārāk tos savus bakalaura darbus raksta. /// Pictures from an academic institution whose atmosphere, having had a quick glimpse on it, seems to be well-suited for thesis writing. What a pity its students do not really write their diploma works.

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

2. aprīlis, priekšpusdiena, snieg /// April 2, noon, it's snowing

Vakar no rīta paskatījos pa logu, un uzreiz bija jānovēršas un jānoskurinās, skats bija ļoti nepatīkams. Pārāk balts šim gadalaikam, negribas vairs aprīlī sniegu, gribas, lai ir priecīgi, saulaini un plaukstoši. Tā jau vispār man sniegs patīk, bet, nu, 2. aprīlī tas var būt diezgan drausmīgi.
Pagājušajā ceturtdienā uz vienu noslēguma ballīti uzvilku pelēcīgi baltu kleitu, un viņā bija kaut kas ziemīgs. Tas vēl bija marts, un es vilku ziemas mēteli, un biju nolēmusi, ka pēc tam gan vairāk sarkano ziemas mēteli nevilkšu, aprīlī vairs neuzdrīkstēšos. Kleitu gan, kleitā arī kaut kas vasarīgi gaišs, kaut gan tobrīd vairāk ziemīgais, un es viņu pirku Londonā sava Karalistes perioda pēdējā dienā pirms atgriešanās Rīgā. Izbeidzās Skotija, beidzas darbs, un ziemai arī jābeidzas, taču tad laikapstākļi brutāli iemet sejā sniegu, ha! Drausmīgi. Visam jābeidzas un jāsakārtojas. Nesen piefiksēju, ka esmu tikusi pāri Skotijai, vairs nav tās sāpīgās ilgošanās, man vienkārši patīk. Kad sāpīgums norimstas un palien apakšā, ir ļoti labi.
Tagad, kad vairs nav jāiet uz darbu, jāraksta bakalaura darbs, un ir diezgan skaidrs, ka būs mokoši, un nekā dzirkstoši priekpilna nebūs, un pavasara arī nebūs. Janvārī un februārī vēl kaut kā var samierināties, bet tad, ka gaiss virmo un visi trakuļi kastaņi, ceriņi un ievas piesmaržo visas āres, nu kā tad lai dzīvo. Tas, ka grūti jau tagad saņemties, un nepatīk, un tas sniegs vēl. Nav labi.
Man patiktu tāda akadēmiskās izglītības dzīve, kas ir pietiekami gaisīga (es nemaz neceru, ka neviena grāmata, neviens Kūzieša teksts nekad nespiedīs pie zemes), atsvaidzinoša un kurā es satieku kursabiedrus, mēs izmetam loku pa Vecrīgu, pastāvam pie fakultātes, pasēžam lekcijā, aizejam nopirkt papīra formiņas kūciņām. Nu tā, kā līdz šim, tā man patika.

^^^^^
Yesterday morning I took a quick glance at the window, and had to look away right away and shake myself. The view was not a pleasant one. Too white for this time of year, I don't wanna have any snow in April, I want it to be cheerful, sunny and blossoming. In general I do like the snow, but, well, it can be quite miserable for the 2nd of April.
Last Thursday for one final party I put on a greyish white dress, and there was something winter-like about it. It was still March then, I was wearing my red winter coat and I had decided not to wear it anymore in this season. I don't dare to wear the winter coat in April. I could wear the dress though, as there is also something summery light, although at that moment I felt the winter side more. I bought this dress in London at the very last day of my United Kingdom period just before returning to Riga. Scotland has ended, job is ending, and winter is supposed to end as well, yet the weather brutally throws snow in your face, hah! Awful. Everything has to end and get in order. Not long ago I noticed I have got over Scotland, there isn't this painful longing anymore, I simply like it. When the pain goes down and stays there, it is actually nice.
Now when I don't have to go to work anymore, I'm supposed to write my thesis, and I see it pretty clearly it's gonna be painful and harsh, and there won't be anything effervescent and joyful, there won't be any spring at all. In January and February one can somehow cope with that, but when the air vibrates and those possessed chestnut-trees, lilacs and bird-cherries flood every tiny street with their scents, how one is supposed to survive then. It is hard enough to pluck up the spirit already now, and I really dislike all that, besides there is snow. Not good.
I woud love such an academic education life which was airy enough (I don't even dare to dream that no heavy book, no Cusanian text won't ever push me down to the ground), refreshing and in which I get to meet my course-mates, we take a stroll in the Old Town, stand in the front of the Faculty, sit in a lecture a bit, go to buy cupcake cases. As it was until now, I liked it that way.


Fakultātes bibliotēka, kuras plauktos grāmatas ir uzmundrinoši krāsainas. Man gan vispār nekas neuzmundrinošs tur nešķita, es tikai pagaidīju Katrīnu. /// In the library of our Faculty, where all the books happen to be encouraging colourful. Anyways, I didn't find anything dispiriting there, I was just waiting for Katrina.
Agnese Ētikā III, pie baznīcas /// Agnese in Ethics III, next to a church
Ričards Imanuelā Kantā, lasa grāmatu /// Ricards in Immanel Kant, reading a book
Ričards, Kants, Dievu mijkrēslis /// Ricards, Kant, Twilight of the Gods
Mans mētelis Sociālajā filozofijā II; es atnācu uz lekciju, un uz viena āķīša bija kaltēta sarkana rozīte, protams, es izvēlējos tieši to āķīti, un neviens pirms manis to nebija pamanījis un aizņēmis, gluži vai maģiski. Uzreiz patīkami, ka atnācu uz lekciju /// My coat in Social philosophy II; I entered the classroom and there was a dry red rose on one of the hooks. Naturally I picked that one, and no one had noticed and occupied it before me, isn't that magic.