Friday, November 1, 2013

Visi svētie šodien /// All the saints today

Es nobijos dienu pirms un Visu Svēto dienā, pašā Visu Svēto dienas priekšvakarā tikai ēdu saldumus.
Dienu pirms Visu svēto vakara mēs ar Lāsmu iekāpām liftā, un mirklīti pirms braukšanas uz sekundi izdzisa gaismiņa, un lifts bija pilnīgi tumšs.
Visu Svēto dienā es muzejā vēroju japāņu rotaļlietas, noliecos tuvu pie mantiņām, un pēkšņi tīģeris man uzkustināja galvu (20. gs. papīrs, Japāna).

^^^^^
I got scared the day before Hallowe'en and on All Saints' Day. On the Hallowe'en itself I prefered consuming sweets.
The day before Hallowe'en Lasma and me, we got into an elevator, and for a tiny moment before going up, the lights went off, and we were left in darkness.
On All Saints' Day I was observing Japanese toys in museum and bent down closer to the toys, when suddenly a tiger (paper, Japan, 20th century) moved his head. Toy tiger moving his head is frightening.


"Dragon warns you!"

Katrīna pēc tenisa, tūristes Somijā /// Katrina after tennis, tourists in Finland

bēbju daudzveidīgās formas /// the various forms of babies

soviet

Anders Petersen


indonēzieši /// Indonesians



sencis /// ancestor

Vai skaistuma ideāli ir mūžīgi? /// Are the ideals of beauty eternal?

Venerai smieklīga frizūra. /// Venera's got some funny hairdo.





Thursday, October 17, 2013

Pirms jaunais gadalaiks pienācis /// Before the new season has come


Šogad ziema pienāks agrāk.
^^^^^
This year winter will come earlier.


Esplanāde, Rīga

Vērmaņdārzs, Rīga

Bolderāja



todien laikam bija biezas debesis



Berlin


somewhere in Poland


Thursday, September 12, 2013

Kur paliek pazudušie joki? /// Where do the lost jokes go?

Vai ir kaut kas lieliskāks par jokiem? Varbūt ir.
Vai daudz kas ir lieliskāks par jokiem? Nē.

Lāsma, mana izcilā māsa, bija tikko pateikusi kādu mazu, neuzkrītošu joku, kuru droši vien būtu iespējams arī nepateikt, man viņš ļoti patika, īsi un ļoti, nekas tajā brīdī nebija labāks par to joku, un tad viņa vairs nebija, un man kļuva skumīgi par visiem tiem jokiem, kas uz mirklīti uzšvirkst un tad pazūd. Kur viņi visi paliek, izbijušie joki? Viņi taču rodas atkal un atkal, visu laiku, un pazūd un zūd, un nevar viņus paturēt prātā.

Man nekad nebija pienākusi sajūta par joku pārejošuma skumīgumu. Kur visi mazie jociņi dodas, kad ir izteikti un uztverti? Viņus neviens ar sedziņām neapsedz un nesamīļo. Un vispār jau izšķerdīgi, tik izcili joki aiziet nesasniedzamībā, atstāstīt grūti un nav gluži tas, trūkst elementu, kuru ietekmē viņi radās.

Man reizēm gribētos, lai visi zinātu, kādu lielisku jokus kāds ir pateicis, tajos brīžos, kad man gribas dalīties. Dažreiz es arī mēģinu, un reizēm sanāk vāra smieklīguma atblāzma, ja pareizi uzsveru vajadzīgās vietas, taču ne tik ļoti smieklīgi kā bijis, un citreiz sanāk pavisam tizli. Kad man negribas dalīties un es turu jociņu pie sevis, viss ir ļoti labi, vienīgi ārkārtīgi ierobežots daudzums joku, ko var paturēt pienācīgā atmiņā.

Protams, nav jāsaka joki visur un ar visiem. Ne visas vietas ir attiecīgas noskaņas rosinošas. Man šķiet, ka neviens cits nezina, cik mana Lāsma prot lieliski jokoties, jo visu labāko viņa pietaupa man. Es vienkārši gribu pateikt, ka, ja neveidojas jokus ģenerējoša atmosfēra un nav joku indikatora, tad jociņu nebūs, un ļoti iespējams, ka ne tāpēc, ka otram netīk smieklīgas lietas. Piedāvāju dažus izskaidrojumus, kāpēc tad tā:
1) jūs neesat pietiekami labi pazīstami,
2) otrs ir introverts un nedāļājas pa pasauli ar saviem izcilākajiem sasniegumiem jokzinībās,
3) jums nav un visticamāk nekad nebūs joku konekšens,
4) tu vai kāds cits ir gaisotnes maitātājs,
5) tu esi galīgi dumjš un otram negribas jokot,
6) tu neesi īsti gudrs un neuztvēri smalkas asprātības.
Un vispār jau žēl, ka es nekad neuzzināšu, cik kādam labi joki tikai tāpēc, ka slikti iedarbojos uz viņa joku produkciju. Lai gan, ne tik žēl kā par joku zūdamības likumu.

Joki ir ekskluzīvi, gaistoši un neatgriezeniski. It kā pa īstam, it kā ne, jokos nevar samelot, no jokiem taču negaida patiesību. Viņi ir tāpat vien, bet var izrādīties, ka ne gluži, šī jaukā nenoteiktība. Man jau arī vienmēr patīk, ja mani izklaidē, un joki ļoti labi izklaidē, tas ir inteliģenti un priecīgi, visiem taču patīk būt izklaidētiem un sabiedrībā ar labu noskaņojumu.

Un es domāju, ka cilvēki, kuri saka jokus, ir gudri un tādiem var uzticēties. Asprātībām taču nepieciešams ass prāts, hoho, un neuzkrītoša novērtēt un uztvert prasme, žigla reakcija, atmosfēras un savstarpējo attiecību izjūta, laba gaume, un arī laba atmiņa jokošanai diez vai ir nodarījusi kaitējumu. Vārdu sakot, cilvēki, kuri saka labus jokus, saprot lietas. Sasmīdināt nav gluži vienkāršākais darbiņš pasaulē, nav arī gluži sirds transplantācija, taču dzīvīguma uzturēšanai visai esenciāli. Pat, ja visi joki nav labi, ja joku kopiespaids un to lielais vairums ir forši, daži kritieni ir jāpiedod. Es mēdzu uzskatīt, ka labāk būt lielā mērā foršam un mazā mērā neforšam nekā nekādā mērā foršam un nekādā mērā neforšam. Labāk izteiksmīgais komplektiņš, vai ne. Var jau arī gadīties, ka es kāda joka lieliskumu nespēju aptvert vai nu savas nesaprātības dēļ, vai arī nespējas distancēties no personiskās iesaistības dēļ. Man liekas, tik daudzi joki būtu vienkārši dievīgi, ja vien nebūtu vērsti pret mani, bet, kad mazliet padomā, tie tik un tā ir labi joki, un cilvēki ar labiem jokiem arī parasti ir labi, un vispār, tie, kas pārāk daudz pret mani vērš jokus, man mēdz būt ļoti mīļi. Un ļoti bieži tie, kuri mani gluži vai izaicina uz jokiem par sevi, man ir ļoti mīļi. Iespējams, otrs variants, ja viņi nav mīļi, tad viņi ir kaitinoši, un ironija novada tracināšanas potenciālu.

Mēs ar Katrīnu reiz runājām, ka tas ir ārkārtīgi aizdomīgi, ja kāds cilvēks nemaz nejokojas, tādiem nevar īsti uzticēties. Jābūt taču spējīgam uz vissīkāko jociņu kādā izmeklētā sabiedrībā, uz tik sīku, ka to var nepamanīt, taču jokotiesspēja, tas ir svarīgi, jā. Ironiskiem cilvēkiem galējos gadījumos var pārmest tikai robežu izjūtas trūkumu vai neiejūtību, bet pamatā jau spēja ironizēt liecina par cilvēka spējām, un diemžēl katra jūtas ir viņa paša darīšana un lauciņš, ar ko tikt galā.

Tas droši vien ir saistīts ar mirstīgumu, joku gaistošums atgādina par nāvi, vai ne, vai ne. Kas tik neatgādina par nāvi, ja tā padomā un arī, ja nepadomā. Tāpēc jokot ir drosmīgi, dzīvelīgi un derīgi, un visiem nāk par labu. Pieļauju, ka civilizācija var būt dzīvotspējīga ar pārliecību par pēcnāves eksistences neesamību, bet bez smieklīgā un jokainā, nu nē, nu nē. Tā nevar. Tā ir viena no retajām lietām, kas skaistuma trūkumu apkārtnē padara mazāk nomācošu.

Un varbūt tomēr ir kāda vieta, kur pulcējas un drūzmējas visi pateiktie, novērtētie, nenovērtētie un noklusētie joki, un tādā vietā cilvēkam būtu grūti, jo būtu pārāk daudz jāsmejas, jābūt viegli aizkaitinātam par muļķīgiem joķeļiem, un vēl citus nesanāktu saprast vispār, taču visticamāk, tādas vietas nav, un lielākā daļu joku,  ironisku piezīmju, apslāpētu smīniņu un zīmīgu saskatīšanos pagaist un nenokļūst nekur. Un vienīgais mierinājums, ka jokošana ir pietiekami mūžīgs mehānisms.



^^^^^

Is there anything greater than jokes? Possibly yes.
Are there many things greater than jokes? Nope.

Lasma, the splendid sister of mine, had just uttered a tiny, subtle joke, which might had stayed unsaid, and I liked it so much, briefly and very. At that moment there was nothing better than this joke, and when it was over, I got sad about all those jokes that gleam lightly for a moment and then get lost for good. Where do they all go, the former jokes? They appear anew all the time, they vanish and disappear, and they don't really stay well on the mind.

Never before the sadness of the passing of jokes had occurred to me. Where do all those tiny jokes end up, once they are expressed and perceived? No one tucks them up in bed, no one wishes them goodnight. Actually, it is such a waste to let brilliant jokes leave for good, all alone and unattainable. It is difficult to retell them and it is never the time, cause the elements that made them arise are missing.

Sometimes I wish everyone got to know some  excellent joke that someone has told me; a situation like this may occur to me during the moments when I'm willing to share. Occasionally I do try to retell a joke, and now and then some reflection of 'funny' can be spotted, if I manage to press on the vital points. Still, it is never as funny as it once was, and there are times when the retold joke comes out clumsy and useless. When I don't want to share and I keep the joke to myself, everything works quite fine. The only thing is, the amount of jokes I can keep in my mind properly, is quite limited.

Of course, jokes don't have to be told everywhere and with everyone. Not all places are joke-friendly, not all of them favor the birth of the funny. I suspect that people rarely realize Lasma's joking abilities, since she saves the very best of it for me. What am I trying to say is, if the atmosphere does not support sallies, nor is there a joke indicator, there won't be any jokes. The creation of a joke is unlikely not because the person you are talking to doesn't  appreciate funny things.  I propose several reasons why someone might not joke in the presence of yours:
1) you are not familiar enough,
2) the other one is introvert and doesn't scatter all over the world all his highest achievements in joke studies,
3) you haven't got, and never will, the joke connection,
4) you or someone else spoils the atmosphere,
5) you are quite dumb, so the other one has no desire to joke in your presence,
6) you are not smart enough to catch subtle wit.
Actually it's a pity that I'd never know how great someone's jokes are just because I affect badly their production of jokes. Not as pity as the law of the destruction of joke, though.

Jokes are exclusive, transitory and irreversible. They are a bit true, a bit untrue, one cannot lie when joking, no one expects truth, or seriousness. Well, at least one shouldn't. They are just so, but it can turn out, that they are not entirely just so - the pleasant vagueness. I always like to be entertained, and jokes do that very well. It's intelligent and fun, everyone likes to be well entertained in the company of good mood.

I also think that the persons who joke are intelligent and reliable. Wit calls for an acute mind, doesn't it, as well as for subtle abilities to perceive and evaluate, quick reaction, sense of the atmosphere and interconnections, good taste, and so far good memory has not done any harm either. Shortly, people who tell good joke understand things. To make someone laugh is not the easiest task in the world, nor is it a heart transplantation, still, in order to keep up the liveliness, laughing is quite essential. Even if not all of the jokes are good, those few falls should be forgiven, if the majority of jokes and their overall appearance smells fine. I tend to think that it is better to be a lot nice and a little nasty than to be not nice at all and not nasty at all. Always choose the set with more qualities, right. I keep in mind that I might be unable to get the greatness of a joke due to my lack of sagacity or due to being too much personally involved in it. I guess so many jokes would seem brilliant if they weren't pointed at me. But when I think for a little while, I have to admit that they still are good jokes, and people who tell good jokes usually are good people. Also, the ones who make fun of me tend to be very dear to me, and conversely, the ones that I can't resist to make fun of are very dear to me too. Unless instead of being dear they are irksome, and can do nothing but use some irony to prevent madness.

Once we talked about it with Katrina, that it is highly suspicious when someone doesn't joke at all. You can't trust people like that. One has to be capable at least of the weeniest joke in a carefully selected society. It can be so weeny, that nothing might be easier than missing it out, yet the joking ability does matter, indeed. In extreme cases ironical people can be only reproached for their lack of the sense of boundaries or for their insensitivity, although fundamentally irony proves the abilities of a person. Also, unfortunately, one's  feelings is everyone's own business and one has to cope with them by himself.

It's probably linked with mortality, the passing character of jokes reminds of death, doesn't it. Is there really anything that doesn't remind of death, if I come to think of it and also if I don't come to think of it. Therefore it is brave, lively and useful to joke, it is good for everyone's health and well-being. I suppose a civilization may be viable even if it had adopted belief in the non-existence of afterlife, but without the funny, it would be oh so impossible. The funny and comical is one of the few things that almost make up for the shortage of beauty in near surroundings, and make it less unbearable.

For all that, there still might be a place, where all the said, appraised, understated and unsaid jokes gather and crowd. It would be hard for a person in such a place with too frequent laughing, light irritation about silly sallies, loads of jokes, that one is not even able to get. The most likely though, there is no such place at all, and the vast majority of jokes, ironic comments, choked grins and meaningful exchanging of looks vanish and get nowhere. The only comfort we are given is the fact that joking is mechanism eternal enough.



Tuesday, September 3, 2013

Mājas dzīve piekrastē /// Coastal home life

Darba ainiņas no mājas dzīves, kad jūnijā dzīvojos ar Lauru un Eko.

^^^^^
Some work sights from home life, when I was spending my time in June with Laura and Eko.




Laura, Eko



Lauras tēta īpašais lācītis /// The special bear of Laura's dad

Lauras īpašais krekliņš un Zvaigžņu karu grāmata /// Laura's special sweatshirt and Star Wars book



Eko pašā slinkumiņā /// Eko at his laziest

Valdzinošie bērnudārza mirkļi /// The old charming kindergarden times


Lana, be our guest




video





Tuesday, August 27, 2013

Ko darīt Parīzē /// What to do in Paris

Parīze, pilsēta, kur meitenēm ciest.

^^^^
Paris, a place for girls to suffer.



La Défense

Montmartre


(photos: Romans)
Paris, October 2012


Monday, July 29, 2013

Aitu vērotāji /// Sheep watchers

Ričards: "Katrs Auns dzīves laikā ir pelnījis lodi pierē."

^^^^^
Ricards: "Every Aries deserves a bullet in the head once in a lifetime."


Drumnadrochit village



Svaru vērotāji /// Scale watchers


River Enrick


 


aitiņas bēg prom /// sheep running (or moving) away



forši koki alejā, vai ne /// cool trees, aren't they

aitas paparaci /// sheep paparazzi

mākonīši ar sejiņām peld pļaviņā /// clouds with faces on the field





kadiķu ziedi /// juniper blossoms

Urquhart Castle

 



Lohness un viņa pelēkie viļņi /// Loch Ness and its grey ripples





Libra, Aries, Leo

auna piere

aitu pilna nogāze /// a sheepful hillside


Jānis, Ričards un Elīna ciemos pie Nesijas Lohnesa ezerā 2011. gada 1. aprīlī; dienā, kad pasauli papildināja bariņš jaunu jēriņu.

^^^^^
Janis, Ricards and Elina visiting Nessie in Loch Ness on the 1st of April, 2011, the day when a bunch of brand-new lambs were imported into the world.