Lamāšanās televizorā /// Cursing on TV

Maza Paula pieredz lamāšanos televizorā un apšauba, ka ir tiešām tik slikti tikt nosauktam par pludmales sauli.

^^^^^
Little Paula witnesses cursing on TV and questions, whether it is really that bad to be called that name.

You, sun of a beach!

Kopsavilkums: Ziemassvētki /// Summary: Christmas

Es esmu tik laimīga par Ziemassvētkiem, tas bija tik skaisti.

Es šogad nolēmu nopietni pievērsties Ziemassvētkiem; tā bija mana iespēja pēc pagājušā gada neveiksmes, kad es tikai sapņoju par pudiņu, un beigās attapos Ziemassvētkos bez pudiņa, ar Ziemassvētku kūku. Nebija slikti, nepavisam nebija, mani Ziemassvētki tādi nekad nav, taču es būtu priecājusies par iespēju maķenīt vairāk par viņiem pajūsmot pirms tam. Tā vietā es tikai žēlojos kolēģīšiem un cietu par savu nevaļu.

Šogad es nolēmu vairs nebūt tik vieglprātīga. Es patiesi uztvēru to nopietni.

Jau novembrī man parādījās vēlme klausīties sildošas 50.gadu izpildījuma Ziemassvētku dziesmas, decembrī es sāku klausīties arī zēnu kora eņģeļu balsis. Patiesībā mana pievēršanās Ziemassvētkiem ir ar ne tik daudz produktīviem rezultātiem (tādiem ekonomistiski produktīviem), cik ar nodošanos Ziemassvētku apcerei. Lielākā daļa manu decembra domu vērsās ap Ziemassvētelīgām bildītēm, recepšu lasīšanu,  pētījumiem par monētām un gredzeniem - kura priekšmeta iecepšana kūkā nes kāda veida laimi, un kura Latvijas monēta nesatur niķeli (esmu dzirdējusi, ka niķelis kaitīgs, un man nepatiktu, ja veiksmes vietā kāds saindētos). Es lasīju arī kādas 5 izglītojoša rakstura grāmatas par britu Ziemassvētkiem, "The Great British Christmas" un "A Country Christmas" bija manas favorītes. Tiešām, visi Ziemassvētku grinči, lasiet šīs grāmatiņas, tas var palīdzēt. Un pārējie lasiet, jo lieliski.

Un kad decembra sākumā uzsniga pirmais sniegs, ah, nu tas bija neaprakstāmi. Es daudz neskumu, ka uz Ziemassvētkiem sniega nebija nemaz. "Skotiski," es parasti domāju šādos laikapstākļos, kad ir +5-8 grādi, sauss vai viegli mitrs, un zaļa zāle. Nu jā, bet tas sniegs, aww. Bija viegli silts, tāpēc sniegs pielipa pie koku zariem, un divas dienas bija tas sapņainais skats, ko mēs šajos platuma grādos vienmēr jūtamies pelnījuši. Mēs ciešam ar īsiņām ziemas dienām, tāpēc mums pienākas skaisti sniegi!

Vienā no šajām apburošajām dienām es devos pie Katrīnas uz Adventes laika branču, kas pārauga tējas laikā. Mēs dzērām branča tēju, un mēs dzērām tējas laika tēju. Es pat nevaru pastātīt, cik tas bija izcili. Pārsvarā mēs sēdējām un runājām apmēram tā "Vīī, Ziemassvētki!" un "Nēe, to taču nevar izturēt, tik lieliski!" Mēs mazliet skatījāmies uz augšu pa logu, uz koku zariem un tumstošām debesīm, sajūta bija kā kotedžā, kur mums apkārt lauki, bet mēs leduslācīša mājīgajā namiņā. Katrīna bija ziemas laika mājas tērpā, un es Ziemassētku gaidīšanas tērpā, un mēs kopā parasti esam tik priecīgas. Un, ja vēl ar mums ir Ziemassvētki, tad priecīgums ir ļoti liels un sprēgājošs.

Katrīna izgāja mani pavadīt, un mēs gājām pa ielām, sniga lielas, mitras pārslas, mēs vērojām trušus. Tur bija arī Sātana trusis, melns trusis ar melnām acīm, man šķiet, ka viņš trenca prom mazu tumši pelēku trusīti.

Pirms tam vel mājās. K: "Man tik ļoti patīk spēļu trusīši!"
E: "Vai tev tik ļoti patīk arī dzīvi trusīši?"
K: [mazliet bēdīgu sejiņu] "Nē, ne tik ļoti."

Elīna: "Ziemassvētki, ahh, tas ir tik brīnišķīgi!"    Katrīna: "Ziemassvētki!" "Man tik ļoti patīk trusīši."

Visa mūsu kopābūšana bija īsts Ziemassvētku iemiesojums. Katrīna ir mans labākais Ziemassvētku draudziņš, mēs kopā jūsmojam un apceram, tikai es šogad biju labākā pozīcijā, jo man nedraudēja nekāda sesija, un manā ģimenē visus interesē eglīte. Es jau ar citiem arī gribu runāties par Ziemassvētkiem, bet citi ar mani ne vienmēr. Mājās mani, man šķiet, uzskata par mazu āmuļfanu vai ko tamlīdzīgu. Kad es biju aizgājusi ciemos uz FreshStep, un Pēteris jautāja, kā man iet, es atbildēju kaut ko, ka man ir ļoti labs Adventes vainags izdevies, un jautāju, vai viņiem ir. Sākumā viņi teica, ka nav, un tad, ka aiz aizskariem ir. Es paskatījos, un tur bija tikai maziņš kaktusiņš. Tā ka Adventes vainags tur ne visai bija. Pēteris piebilda, ka esmu pirmais cilvēks, kas ienācis pa durvīm un sācis runāt par Ziemassvētkiem, man vēl pie zābakiem (maniem pekainīšu zābakiem) tikai vajadzētu zvārgulīšus.

Bet vispār es domāju, ka ir labi likt arī nogurušiem un neieziemassvētkotiem cilvēkiem par to visu padomāt, kaut kāds prieciņš var aizķerties. Vai arī tādiem, kas vienkārši pagaidām vēl nav tik tālu tikuši.

Tagad mazliet nodarbošos ar Ziemassvētku grāmatvedību. Iespējams, tā nemaz nav grāmatvedība, es nekad neesmu bijusi grāmatvede, un grāmatveži par mani varētu sprauslāt tā, kā es sprauslāju par runīgiem cilvēkiem, kas kā savu patiku norāda "filozofēšanu". Es nevaru ar jums draudzēties, cilvēki, kas nelietīgi izmanto filozofijas vārdu!

Manas galvenās Ziemassvētku neveiksmes:

1) es sapņoju par pudiņu, taču uztaisīju Ziemassvētku kūku. (Bija ļoti garšīga vegānu kūka, drusku mitra kā pudiņš. Un es priecājos, ka nosliecos par labu vegānu variantam, jo mani vilka gan "pašu tradicionālāko ēdieniņu, lūdzu", gan "man patīk taisīt ko tādu, ko visi ēd", jo kolektīva viena un tā paša ēdiena ēšana man ir visai svarīga.)

2) dāvana tētim laikā neatkļuva pa pastu, tāpēc man nācās sacerēt komiksu par lidmašīnu nokavējušu pidžamkrekliņu. Man patīk sacerēt komiksus, bet patīk arī laikā atnākušas dāvanas, kuras var nolikt zem eglītes un nodot aptaustīšanai un Ziemassvētku noskaņu uzslāņošanai.

3) man nebija neviena paša āmuļa vai akmensozola zariņa! Es šogad daudz apcerēju britu Ziemassvētkus, un man ļoti gribējās tos mūžzaļos zariņus. Toties Zariņš novembra beigās, kad izdomāja, ka varētu mani aizvest uz filmēšanas laukumu, uzdāvināja manu pirmo Ziemassvēku dāvaniņu. Zariņš sagribēja kafiju, jautāja man, kā man iet un ko es daru, es teicu, ka domāju par Ziemassvētkiem. Zariņš jautāja, vai kleita svētkiem jau skaidra, un mazliet bēdīgi novilku, ka galīgi vēl ne. Mēs piebraucām pie benzīntanka, tur jau pie durvīm sastutētas stāvēja mazas, tuklas eglītes, viņš iznāca ar kafiju un "Serenādi". Ar visu to fonu un priecīgumu, es to tiešām jutu kā pirmsZiemassvētku dāvanu, tik forši. Turklāt Jaungadā Katrīna man uz tāfeles bija uzzīmējusi āmuli. Un vispār es nolēmu, ka ņemšu vērā savu asins sastāvu un izturēšos kā ziemeļniecei pienākas, un rotāju savu apkārtni ar eglītēm, priežu zariņiem, brūklenītēm un sūnām. Very Latvian, stiept dabas veltes uz namiņu. Ah, un jā, (es nevaru par šo tēmu runāt maz - es par to esmu pēdējā laikā domājusi tik daudz!) Jaungadā arī apjautājos Timam par āmuļiem un akmensozoliem, un viņa amerikāņu bērnībā tādi bija, taču viņš tiem nepievērsa pārāk lielu nozīmi. Uzreiz tāda sajūta, ka viss ir pareizi, maziem amerikāņu bērniem ir viņu pašsaprotamie āmuļu zariņi.

4) būtu paticis aiziet uz baznīcu. Paskatīties uz zēnu kori un viņu korāļiem, piemēram. Kopš es vairs neeju skolā, man mazliet pietrūkst baznīcas pirmsziemassvētku laikā. It kā jau daudz to baznīcu, bet es jūtos apmulsusi šajā izvēlē.

Katrīnas āmulis

Labie lēmumi un paveikšanās (man parasti vairāk veicas, nekā es labi izvēlos, taču es arī reizēm labi izvēlos):

1) vilkt to pašu zaļa samta kleitu, ko iepriekšējo gadu. Lietu atkārtošanās un atkārtošana rada kaut kādu saslēgtību ar nozīmības sajūtu, un kleita ir tik skaista un tik piemērota Ziemassvētkiem, un man patīk dot drēbēm vairākkārtējas iespējas sevi izdzīvot.

2) Adventes vainags bija tiešām izcils, manuprāt. Es tagad jūtos kā bērzu zaru - smaragda zaļo sūnu - brūkleņu mētru - melnu čiekuriņu - lentīšu Adventes vainagu speciāliste. Manā vainagā vēl bija guļošs stirnēns, stāvošs stirnēns un sarkankrūtītis. Katrīnas "Jaungada Adventes vainagā" bija baltas, izskatīgas ogas, kuras es nezinu, cik ilgi turējās, taču sākumā bija izteiksmīgas.

3) savlaicīga pievēršanās dāvanu papīriem un lentītēm. Dāvanas es nesasaiņoju laicīgi, taču man bija glīta izvēle, un tikai un vienīgi glītas lietas, no kā izvēlēties, un tas procesu atvieglo. Ik pa skaistai lietai nav jāuzlūko neglīta un jānodrebinās.

4) es visas Ziemassvētku dienas darīju pareizās lietas. Tieši to, kas jādara, un nepieļāvu nekādas kļūdas.

kaķi Ziemassvētko

^^^^^

I am so happy about this Christmas, it was sooo beautiful.

This year I decided to be serious about it. It was my chance after last year's failure, when I was only dreaming about the Christmas pudding, but didn't get any. I made Christmas cake though, which was quite enough for me. The Christmas days themselves were not bad at all, it's not in my habit to have bad Christmas. Still, I would have enjoyed some extra opportunities to reflect on Christmas before it was actually happening. So I was just complaining to my nice co-workers and suffering for not having enough time for Christmas.

So this year I was determined to drop that careless attitude of mine. I took Christmas really seriously.

In November Christmas songs from 50ies seemed the oblivious choice. They have such a warming effect. In December I added the angelic voices of boys choir to my list. I don't think my focus on Christmas was very productive (like, in the economic sense), however I was reflecting on these themes a lot. Most of my December thoughts were connected to pictures containing decorations, to recipes, to the research on coins and rings - which one brings luck, and which Latvian coins don't contain nickel (since I have heard of its poisonous qualities, and I wouldn't have liked it if someone got poisoned, instead of having luck). I was also reading 5 educative books on British Christmas. "The Great British Christmas", as well as "A Country Christmas" were my favorites. I advice to read them to all the Grinches, it might help. And I recommend them to the decent Christmas lot too,  'cause they are great.

When the first snow in the early days of December was falling down, it was, ohh, I won't be able to describe it. I wasn't very sad, when on Christmas Eve there was no snow at all. "It's very Scottish," I usually think when the weather is like that - +5 - 8 C, rainless or slightly humid, and the grass is green. But still, that snow, aww. It was quite warm, so the snow was sticking to the trees well. For two days the dreamy sight of everything-all-white didn't disappear. We, the ones living in the rather northern latitudes, always feel we deserve this kind of beauty. Having (or sometimes suffering from) the tiny winter days, beautiful winter snow is simply well deserved!

One of these pretty days I spent at Katrina's, having Advent brunch which gradually grew into teatime. We were having tea for brunch, and then we were having tea around teatime. This was splendid. For the most of the time we were talking something like "Christmas, aww!" or "This is just too much, soo great!" Looking a bit up, bare tree branches and darkening sky were well visible. It was like being in a cottage with fields around the house, a polar bear's cosy home. Katrina was in wintertime loungewear, and I was dressed in my waiting-for-Christmas garments. When we get together, we are almost always cheerful. And if there is Christmas to await, then the joy is big and sparkling.

Katrina went out to see me off, and while we were walking the streets, huge, moist snowflakes were falling down. Then we got to observe rabbits in their Rabbit Kingdom. There was also Satan's rabbit - a black rabbit with black eyes. I think he drove away a small dark grey rabbit.
Beforhands at home: K: "I like toy rabbits so much!"
E: "Do you like real rabbits just as much as toys?"
K [with slightly sad face]: "No, not so much."

Elina: "Christmas, ah, that's awesome!"  Katrina: "Christmas, aww!" "I like rabbits a lot."

I wouldn't dare to underappreciate our Christmasing. Katrina is my best Christmas friend, we gush together and reflect on it. I did try to lead a conversation about Christmas with others too, but not everyone was very interested. I guess at home I am considered a little mistletoe fan or something like that. When I was visiting one production company, Peteris asked, how was I doing and those sorts of things. I said that I was doing well, had made a really good Advent wreath, and asked if they had one. At first they denied having one, then they said that actually there was a wreath behind the curtains. I checked it out but found nothing but a tiny cactus. So, there wasn't really an Advent wreath. Peteris also mentioned that I was the very first person to cross the door step and to start to talk about Christmas. And that I needed to attach some tiny bells to my boots.

For all that, I find it good when tired or not yet Christmased-up people get to think about Christmas time, they may catch some winter cheer.

Now I am planning to do some Christmas book-keeping. It's probably no real book-keeping, since I have never been an accountant. Maybe real accountants would snort their disapproval of the word's misuse, just like I snort my dissatisfaction about chatty people who indicate their liking for "philosophy" and "philosophizing". I can't be friends with you, people, who caddishly misuse the name of philosophy!

The main Christmas failures:
1) I was dreaming about pudding, but made a Christmas cake, again. (It was a tasty vegan cake, moist enough to remind of pudding. I am also glad I decided to go for the vegan version, since I am usually torn between the wish for "only the most traditional for me, pls" and "I want to make something that everyone eats",'cause eating collectively the very same dish is quite important to me.)

2) the present for dad didn't make it in time, so I could do nothing but make up a comic about flannel pajamas, that had just missed their flight. I like to draw comics, but I also like presents that arrive in time, so that I an put them under the Christmas tree. And then they can be touched, and they add something to the Christmas feel.

3)  I didn't have any mistletoe or holly, not even the tiniest twig! This year I was contemplating a lot on the British themes, and I would have so loved to have these evergreens. At least Zarins [in latvian Zariņš means "twig"] in late November, when he gave me a lift to the location, he also gave me the very first Christmas gift. He wanted some coffee, and asked what was I doing those days. I said: "I think about Christmas." He asked whether my dressing choice for the Christmas Eve was made yet, and I sadly answered that this was still unclear. Then the car approached gas station, where chubby Christmas trees were leaning towards the door. Zarins came back with coffee and a chocolate for me, and with all that cheerful mood and sudden background decorations, I had to conceive this chocolate as a pre-Christmas gift. Besides, on New Year's Eve Katrina had drawn for me a mistletoe on the blackboard. And actually I decided to take into account my blood and to behave in a way that suits northerners. So my surroundings were decorate with fir-tree, pine branches, lingonberry and moss. It's very Latvian indeed, to carry home different kinds of plants. Also, (it's impossible for me to talk only a little about this topic when I have been thinking about it volumes!) on New Year's Eve I got ask Tim about mistletoes and holly leaves, and they indeed were present in his American childhood, although he didn't pay much attention to them. It felt right, little American kids and their obvious mistletoe.

4) I would have enjoyed to go to a church. To watch a boys choirs and to listen to the corals they perform, for example. Ever since I have abandoned the habit of attending high school, I miss a little bit church in December. There are heaps of them, those churches, still I somehow feel confused presented with this wide choice.

the mistletoe, drawn by Katrina

The right choices and luck (usually I am better at the luck department than at making choices, but sometimes I manage to choose well):

1) to wear the same dark green velvet dress, that I wore a year ago. The recurrence of things and repeating things creates some kind of closure, it feels important. And that dress is so beautiful and suits Christmas so well. I also like to give garments several chances to live themselves through.

2) according to me, the Advent wreath was pure perfection. Now, having made two, I feel as a specialist at making wreaths out of birch twigs, emerald moss, lingonberry bushes and little black cones. In my wreath there were a standing bambi, a lying bambi and a robin. In Katrina's "New Year's Advent wreath" there were white good-looking berries. I don't know for how long did they managed to look good, but in their early days they looked impressive enough.

3) I started to collect gift wrapping papers and ribbons well in advance. I didn't wrap the presents well in advance, but at least I only had pretty things to choose from. That makes the whole thing easier. One doesn't have to see an ugly thing between all the prettiness, so there is no need to shake that disturbing feeling off.

4) I was doing the right things during the Christmas period. Nothing but the right things, and made no mistakes.

cats Christmasing

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.

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

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.

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

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