Lielākoties tagad, kad pavasaris tā arī nav pienācis, vairs pat nav ļoti slikti un briesmīgi, tikai visai savādi. It kā Latvija būtu iekļuvusi atriebīga maga uzmanības lokā un uz mūžiem būtu aizmirsta mīnus grādos. Liekas, ka pavasaris šogan vienkārši nav noticis, nav tādas lietas kā pavasaris. Un, skatoties uz piesnigušiem kokiem, baltu perspektīvi un ziemas blāvām debesīm, brīžiem pat nav pārāk slikti. Vizuāli tas izskatās labi, pusastoņos vakarā, kad joprojām norisinās gaisma.
Vienīgi, tā kā nenotiek pavasaris, man vairs nav drēbju, ko vilkt, un, kad es visu laiku velku vienas un tā pašas drēbes, es viņās iesalstu. Katrīna to noformulēja kā iesalušas drēbes -> iesaluši noskaņojumi, un tā ir tā biedējošā iestigšana. Šogad ziema turpinās un turpinās, tikai kļūst arvien gaišāks (iespējams, drīz tiks sasniegts polārajai naktij līdzīgs un pretējs stāvoklis - polārā ziema gaismā). Un, lai arī gaišāks kļūst un katru vakaru novērojami netradicionāli dabas skati ar piesnigušām ainavām gaišos, vēlos vakaros, nekas jau īsti nemainās, un man nešķiet, ka kādam vēl ir cerības uz patiesu pavasari. Tomēr laikastākļi jāpārspriež ir regulāri, jo tas ir tas, kas interesē un satrauc.
Reizēm gribas novērsties no ārpasaules ar visiem viņas stindzinošajiem sniega pūtieniem, citreiz stoiciski jāskatās ārā pa logu, un objektīvi nav neglīti. Tas tikai nav tas, ko šobrīd gribas. Kaut kā neveikli šogad sanācis.
Es Lieldienu brīvdienās 3-4 dienas neizgāju ārā no mājas un dzīvojos naktskreklā un halātā, un daudz skatījos seriālu. Es daudz mājās biju viena pati, tas man patika, es biju lācītis midziņā, un man nebija nekā kopīga ar āru. Varbūt vienīgi tas, ka mums abiem sanāca drusku neveikli - āram ar Lieldienu ziemu un man ar kabatlakatiņu.
Es tumsā viena pati skatījos seriālu, un tā kā seriālā bija diezgan šausmīgi, man 20 minūtes bija ļoti jāraud, un es pa tumsu meklēju kabatlakatiņu. Pirms pāris dienām bija bijusi filmēšana, un es joprojām visas mantas nebiju līdz galam sakārtojusi. Es pasniedzos pavirši ārā izvilktu mantu klājienā pēc kabatlakatiņa, taču seriāla asaras diemžēl nebija viņa pirmā profesionālā pieredze kabatlakatības karjerā.
Kad filmēja biroju un man īsti nebija, ko darīt, es slaistīgi gaidīju tādā kā recepcijas daļā, kur bija akvārijs ar zivtiņām, dažādu krāsu mapes un pīts saldumu trauks. Es biju rūpīgi iepazinusies ar zivju dzīvi, mapes mani neinteresēja, un es nolēmu izpētīt saldumu trauka saturu.
Es ieraudzīju mazus, melnus gumijainus nieciņus, taču man vairs nepietika laika aptvert, ka viņi izskatās pārliecinoši negaršīgi. Pirkstiņi jau bija pastiepušies pēc melnā nieciņa, un saprāta brīdinājumiem vairs nebija laika. Tas bija slikti, tas bija lakricīgi.
(Lakricas pretīgums, šķiet, ir universāli zināms fakts, un tie, kam lakrica garšo, tiek uzskatīti par dabas īpatņiem. Kad es gāju atjaunot e-talonu uz Rīgas satiksmi, darbieki tur nebija sevišķi steidzīgi, viņi diezgan daudz runāja, un tas, kurš mani apkalpoja, neatceros kādā ceļā tika līdz tēmai par norvēģiem, ko viņa kolēģis attīstīja līdz lakricas līmenim. Viņš piebilda kaut ko tādu kā "norvēģiem taču garšo tā lakrica, kā var garšot lakrica" vai ko tamlīdzīgu, un es uzreiz dedzīgi pamāju ar galvu un iesaucos: "Jā, tā lakrica!" Pašā pirmajā brīdī viņš pārprata: "Tev garšo?!" Bet es uzreiz teicu, ka nē, lakrica ir pretīga. Un mēs vienojāmies tādā savstarpējā sapratnē par lakricas vispārejo pretīgumu.
Un vidusskolas laikā man bija klasesbiedrs, kuram garšoja lakrica un kuram patika ļauni izturēties pret cilvēkiem. (Piemēram, kad mēs brīnījāmies, kāpēc Klāvs, kurš sportā sasista pirkstu, dodas ārā pa skolas vārtiņiem uz Traumpunktu, jo tas nozīmētu, ka viņš ir bijis pie ārkārtīgi satrauktās skolas medmāsas, izrādījās, ka viņu ir nosūdzējis viņa draugs un lakricas cienītājs Vaļinieks.) Viņš mēdza iemest mutē lakricas konfekti, piedāvāt klasesbiedriem, un tiem, kas spiedzot un viebjoties atteicās, apsēsties blakus, lai apveltītu ar savu lakricas elpu. Es domāju, ka, ja māc nepieciešība tikt vaļā no nevēlamām personām, tikai jāievieš savā ēdienkārtē lakrica. Tāpat pirmais solis, kā iepatikties cilvēkiem, ir pārtraukt attiecības ar lakricu.)
Es nevarēju ar to glumekli tikt galā, tuvumā nebija nevienas miskastes, kad viņu tikt sasodīti vajadzēja, un man neatlika nekas cits kā ietīt mazo melno noziedznieku kabatlakatiņā, kuru es nobēdzināju, un kuram es atkal uzdūros Lieldienu brīvdienu laikā.
Lai nu kā Lieldienās piestāv ciest, un mums ar laikapstākļiem abiem Lieldienu laikā bija neveiklas epizodes. Varbūt uz kopīgas pieredzes un asociēšanās spēju pamata man tagad pret laikapstākļiem būs iecietīgāka attieksme, bet visticamāk, ja vien nepienāks pavasaris, diez vai.
^^^^^
Mostly now, when the spring has decided not to come this year, it is not even awful or terrible anymore, it feels merely strange. It's like some revengeful wizard has taken an interest in Latvia and has left it forever ever in temperature below zero. It seems as this year spring simply has not happened, there is no such thing as spring. While gazing at snow-covered trees, white pavements and the pale sky of winter, sometimes it's not too bad after all. Visually it does look good, at 7.30 pm, when the daylight is still present.
The only thing is, since the spring is not happening, I don't have anything to wear anymore, and when I wear the very same clothes over and over again, I freeze into them. Katrina defined that frozen clothing -> frozen states of mind, and it is frightening to stick in. This year the winter goes on and on, only the only difference being the evenings gradually getting lighter (probably soon enough there will be opposite/ similar state of polar night out there - polar day in wintertime). And, although it's getting lighter and one can regularly observe unconventional sights of snow-covered landscapes in late evenings full of daylight, nothing really changes. I don't think there is anyone who is still expecting a true and blossoming spring to come. For all that the weather has to be discussed regularly, as it is something that really matters and upsets (and thrills at its best, not now though).
Sometimes the best way to face all this misbehavior of weather is to turn away from the outside world and all its icy blasts of snowy winds. Other times I stoically look through the window, and objectively judging it isn't ugly. It's just not what I want right now. Quite awkward it is this year.
During the Easter holidays I didn't leave home for like 3-4 days, I stayed in my nightgown and dressing robe and was watching Downton Abbey most of the time. Mostly I was all alone in the flat, I liked that, I was a bear in its den, and I and the outside had nothing in common. Maybe apart from the fact that we both had some awkward episodes - the outside world with the winter during Easter and me with a tissue.
I was watching an episode on my own, and as the plot was so unbearable (Season 3, you know), I had to cry for 20 minutes, and in the dark I was trying to find a tissue. A few days ago I had had a shooting, and there were still some things to put in order. I placed my arm into a layer of things and took it out as soon as I felt the familiar texture of tissue. Unfortunately tears caused by heartbreaking events in TV series was not the tissue's first professional experience.
When they were shooting the office and I didn't have anything to do, I was dawdling the time away at the office reception. There was an aquarium with a bunch of fishes, files of different colors and a wicker bowl for sweets. I had well acquainted myself with the lifestyle of fishes, I couldn't take any interest in the files, so obviously I decided to explore the bowl of sweets.
I spotted tiny, black, rubber-like bits, yet there wasn't enough time left to realize how convincingly nasty they looked like. My unstoppable fingers had already reached out for one tiny black bit, and there was no time for a warning of reason. It was disgusting, it was liquorice.
(I guess the disgust of liquorice is a generally acknowledged fact, and those, who do happen to enjoy liquorice, are treated as the marvels of nature. Nothing but a marginal minority. When I went to renew my transportation card, the employees there were not in hurry at all, they were engaging into a conversation, and the one I was being served by, I don't remember how, got to the subject of Norwegians. His colleague then took it further to the level of liquorice. He said something like "Norwegians eat that liquorice, how one can eat liquorice at all" or something in like manner, and I ardently nodded and said: "Yeah, liquorice!" At the very first he misunderstood: "You like it?!" But I corrected myself at once, I said that no, it's disgusting. And we shared a brief mutual understanding of the general disgust of liquorice.
In the high school I had a classmate who enjoyed liquorice and who also enjoyed occasional cruel action towards other kids. (For instance, when we were wondering how did Klavs, having beaten his finger, end up walking out of the school and heading to the hospital for an examination, as it would have meant that Klavs had seen the hysterical blond middle-aged school nurse, it turned out that it was his friend and liquorice fan Valinieks who had reported Klavs to the school nurse. ) Valinieks used to take a liquorice, then offer them to other kids. Then he sat next to the ones who had refused enthusiastically, screaming and pulling faces, and endowed the chosen ones with his heart-melting liquorice breath. I strongly believe that the first precautionary measure to keep away unwelcome persons is to finish meal with liquorice. Likewise, the the first step to get people's affections is to break every single relation to liquorice.)
I couldn't finish that slimy object, and unluckily for me there was no single bin to be found when it was so desperately needed. I had no choice but to wrap that little black delinquent in a tissue, which I hid away, and which I unfortunately came across during the Easter holidays.
Nonetheless, suffering becomes Easter, and the weather and me, we both shared some awkwardness during the Easter. Maybe this mutual experience and ability to associate myself with the weather could cause my attitude to become slightly more lenient, still, unless the spring came for good, I wouldn't think so.
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| Decembris 2012, pēc skata līdzīgs Aprīlim 2013 /// December 2012, resembling April 2013 |
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