Ieri am avut o revelatie in timp ce eram la plimbare. Mergeam pe trotuar ca un cuminte participant la trafic cand din partea opusa am vazut venind un domn. Domnul respectiv a ajuns langa o masina pe care a deschis-o si s-a urcat in ea. Deodata dintr-un domn mare care mergea pe propriile picioare s-a transformat intr-un domn mic care statea in scaunel. Apoi a plecat cu masina spre o destinatie de el stiuta. In acel moment mi-am dat seama ca masinile astea sunt niste cutiute cu 4 roti cu care ne deplasam cine-stie-unde pentru a face economie de timp, efort si in final de sanatate. Cutiutele cu roti trebuie conduse astfel incat sa nu se loveasca intre ele si sa nu se loveasca de nimic altceva. E ideea principala.
Asta a fost revelatia de pe ziua de ieri. Pentru ca atunci cand am condus o masina pentru prima data am fost teribil de exaltata; nu imi venea sa cred ca ditamai fieratania asculta de comenzile mele fricoase :))
luni, 30 martie 2009
marți, 24 martie 2009
stam pe bordura?
Mi-e dor sa mai stau pe bordura. Nu mai stiu exact cand am inceput sa stau pe borduri si nu mai stiu nici cand am incetat. Cu siguranta insa in timpul liceului si al facultatii stateam deseori pe bordura. Vara. De cele mai multe ori seara. Prin 1994 m-am simtit minunat. In vara aceea dadusem bacul iar in toamna am intrat la facultate. Serile ieseam in cartier "la rampa". Rampa era din beton si lipita de peretele unei vile de langa blocurile noastre. Ne adunam acolo o gramada de baieti si fete si palavrageam pana la ore tarzii din noapte. Am fi stat pana dimineata daca parintii nu se sesizau intr-un final si ne fixau cate o ora de venit in casa. Iar rampa era calda de la soarele din timpul zilei si noi stateam fara griji exceptand grija cucoanei de la etajul 4 care arunca cu borcane si cuvinte urate in noi. Intr-o noapte din luna august cand intunericul era cald si prietenos am vazut o ploaie de meteoriti, a fost extraordinar. Organizam si "deplasari" mergeam de faceam baie in mare noaptea, iar intr-o dimineata eu am organizat grupul de 3 persoane care a mers sa vada rasaritul. L-am vazut dar in prealabil am tremurat pentru ca gresisem ora ... evenimentului.
Tot in vara aceea cineva a implinit 18 ani si l-am sarbatorit intr-una din casutele din Satul de Vacanta. Spre dimineata am plecat, eram trei si am mers pe jos vreo 6 kilometri pana la noi in cartier. Am ajuns la alimentara din colt si, intrucat era foarte devreme, navetele cu lapte stateau in fata noastra livrate si nepreluate. Pe vremea aceea laptele era la sticle de un litru cu capac simpatic de hartie argintie care nu opunea rezistenta la desfacere. Asa ca am luat o sticla de acolo si am baut-o frateste toti trei pe bordura din spatele blocului meu. Apoi am fost politicosi si am pus sticla la loc. Ne-am gandit daca ar fi potrivit sa punem si bani in ea dar am decis ca banii nu au ce sa caute in sticle. Este una din cele mai dragi amintiri de atunci. Mi-e dor de senzatia de libertate din zilele acelea cand simteam ca nu am inceput si nici capat (nici capatai probabil :)) si imi sunt dragi oamenii pe care ii vad stand pe borduri nestingheriti de faptul ca si-ar putea sifona/murdari/pata hainele sau imaginea.
Tot in vara aceea cineva a implinit 18 ani si l-am sarbatorit intr-una din casutele din Satul de Vacanta. Spre dimineata am plecat, eram trei si am mers pe jos vreo 6 kilometri pana la noi in cartier. Am ajuns la alimentara din colt si, intrucat era foarte devreme, navetele cu lapte stateau in fata noastra livrate si nepreluate. Pe vremea aceea laptele era la sticle de un litru cu capac simpatic de hartie argintie care nu opunea rezistenta la desfacere. Asa ca am luat o sticla de acolo si am baut-o frateste toti trei pe bordura din spatele blocului meu. Apoi am fost politicosi si am pus sticla la loc. Ne-am gandit daca ar fi potrivit sa punem si bani in ea dar am decis ca banii nu au ce sa caute in sticle. Este una din cele mai dragi amintiri de atunci. Mi-e dor de senzatia de libertate din zilele acelea cand simteam ca nu am inceput si nici capat (nici capatai probabil :)) si imi sunt dragi oamenii pe care ii vad stand pe borduri nestingheriti de faptul ca si-ar putea sifona/murdari/pata hainele sau imaginea.
duminică, 22 martie 2009
cum m-am uitat la ziua de astazi
Astazi am fost foarte fericita; fara vreun motiv deosebit si pentru o mie de motive simple; de dimineata am iesit cu fetita mea la plimbare pentru ca era soare (fetita mea Yasmin are 8 luni si mai multe nu scriu pentru ca mi-ar lua o viata sa spun tot ce simt inspre/dinspre ea). Ne simteam atat de bine amandoua ca ne opreau oamenii sa ne spuna cate ceva si toti aveam aerul ca ne cunoastem de multa vreme; pe urma am cumparat lalele portocalii si o zambila albastra: acasa le-am asezat langa ghiveciul mic cu flori galbene primit de la musafirul de aseara; in felul acesta la noi in bucatarie s-a nascut un colt colorat si vesel; Yasmin m-a luat de mana ca asa a vrut ea si eu m-am topit ca o baltuta la soare. Diseara o sa vina tati si ne bucuram cand ii deschidem usa. Astazi a fost o zi foarte frumoasa.
Sa nu credeti ca nu am vazut aglomeratia, zgomotul si pe alocuri murdaria de pe strada, doamna care a iesit in usa coaforului ca sa vorbeasca la telefon desi era in mijlocul procesului de infrumusetare cu niste foite in par deloc frumoase/frumoasa, prima cersetoare care mi-a cerut bani si nu i-am dat si mi-a parut rau, a doua cersetoare care mi-a cerut bani si i-am dat desi ceva din aerul ei imi spunea ca o sa cumpere rachiu si nu paine, etc.
Demult (cred ca eram prin liceu) un prieten mi-a aratat un album cu imagini la care daca te uitai intr-un anumit fel vedeai altceva deca imaginea initiala. Mi s-a parut spectaculos sa gesesti doua lumi in aceeasi imagine. Ma gandesc ca fericirea sau nefericirea noastra reprezinta si o chestiune de alegere, de atitudine. O zi obisnuita iti poate oferi deopotriva motive de bucurie sau tristete. Vorbesc de zile obisnuite nu de cele iesite din comun in care se intampla lucruri foarte bune sau foarte rele pentru care imi lipseste intelepciunea de a le trata egal neavand pesemne perspectiva .. cosmica.
Cred ca daca ne-am gandi in fiecare zi la motivele pentru care ar trebui sa fim multumiti, daca am face in fiecare zi ceva pentru a remedia motivele de nemultumire fara a le tine agatate de noi, daca am fi recunoscatori oamenilor dragi ca ne sunt alaturi si tot asa, lucrurile bune ar incepe sa iasa in evidenta ca imaginile depre care vorbeam mai devreme.
Sa nu credeti ca nu am vazut aglomeratia, zgomotul si pe alocuri murdaria de pe strada, doamna care a iesit in usa coaforului ca sa vorbeasca la telefon desi era in mijlocul procesului de infrumusetare cu niste foite in par deloc frumoase/frumoasa, prima cersetoare care mi-a cerut bani si nu i-am dat si mi-a parut rau, a doua cersetoare care mi-a cerut bani si i-am dat desi ceva din aerul ei imi spunea ca o sa cumpere rachiu si nu paine, etc.
Demult (cred ca eram prin liceu) un prieten mi-a aratat un album cu imagini la care daca te uitai intr-un anumit fel vedeai altceva deca imaginea initiala. Mi s-a parut spectaculos sa gesesti doua lumi in aceeasi imagine. Ma gandesc ca fericirea sau nefericirea noastra reprezinta si o chestiune de alegere, de atitudine. O zi obisnuita iti poate oferi deopotriva motive de bucurie sau tristete. Vorbesc de zile obisnuite nu de cele iesite din comun in care se intampla lucruri foarte bune sau foarte rele pentru care imi lipseste intelepciunea de a le trata egal neavand pesemne perspectiva .. cosmica.
Cred ca daca ne-am gandi in fiecare zi la motivele pentru care ar trebui sa fim multumiti, daca am face in fiecare zi ceva pentru a remedia motivele de nemultumire fara a le tine agatate de noi, daca am fi recunoscatori oamenilor dragi ca ne sunt alaturi si tot asa, lucrurile bune ar incepe sa iasa in evidenta ca imaginile depre care vorbeam mai devreme.
vineri, 20 martie 2009
dor de Balcic
Sa va zic despre Balcic: am ajuns acolo in vara anului 2006. Desi sunt din Constanta, mereu mi-am dorit sa merg la mare in alta localitate, sa stau la hotel si sa nu imi bat capul cu nimic altceva decat vacanta mea la plaja; cine sta la malul marii stie cum iti irosesti fiecare zi din fiecare vara cu obligatii curente, musafiri si iluzia ca lasa, te vei duce la plaja maine cand vei avea mai mult timp; in final te trezesti ca maine vine toamna si simti ca cineva ti-a furat si vara asta :)
Sa revin. De Balcic am aflat prima data din "Panza de Paianjen" a Cellei Serghi iar in final eu si prietena mea am ales sa mergem acolo o saptamana. Am fost uimita sa descopar o localitate unde erai deopotriva la mare si la munte. Dimineata si seara este racoare, apa este mai rece decat suntem obisnuiti, casele sunt asezate in trepte. Dincolo de toate astea este ceva acolo pe care nu il pot defini in cuvinte, ceva-ul descris de scriitori din perioada interbelica, ceva-ul ce te face sa intelegi de ce regina Maria a tinut sa construiasca un mic palat la Balcic. E liniste la Balcic si muntii atat de vechi incat s-au transformat in dealuri par ca tin localitatea in brate. La Balcic aproape nu mai este nisip si nici turistii prea galagiosi pe care ii gasesti doar cativa kilometri mai incolo. Vilele- hotel sunt micute si elegante iar cand am revenit in noiembrie am fost fermecata de apusul de dincolo de geamul restaurantului si focul din semineul dinauntru.
In vara aceea am stat la soare dimineata si seara, am facut baie in mare, am vazut gradinile palatului, am trancanit la terase si am cascat gura la tarabele cu "amintiri". Am mers atunci si la Albena dar nu seamana nici pe departe, era aglomerat ca la Mamaia in mijlocul verii. Mi-am dat seama ca Balcicul pur si simplu rasare dintre celelelate localitati de pe malul marii fara sa semene cu niciuna dinaintea sau de dupa ea, pare o farama dintr-o poveste asa ca peronul 9 si 3/4 din Harry Potter ...
Pentru mine Balcicul ramane unul din locurile in care iti place atat de mult sa fii incat aproape te doare sufletul, unul din locurile in care crezi ca daca ai intinde mainile ai putea sa zbori sau ai putea fi regina din palatul alb cu iz de conac si gradini suspendate intre mare si cer.
De atunci mi-e dor de Balcic, de povestea si linistea lui.
joi, 19 martie 2009
comunicat
atentie! am surprins boschetii de pe alee ca au inmugurit! ba chiar am vazut un copacel in parc care s-a grabit sa isi puna pijamale de flori albe; e drept ca acum sta cam stingherit pentru ca s-a gatit de unul singur; ideea este ca trebuie sa urmarim evenimentele altfel iar se lauda cu boboci si frunze verzi iar noi nu vom sti cand s-a intamplat...
vineri, 13 martie 2009
retete si dureri de nas
E mult de cand am ajuns la concluzia ca in mai toate domeniile nu te poti ghida numai dupa "retete". De exemplu in relatia de cuplu: nu poti merge dupa retete de genul "daca nu te-a sunat inseamna ca nu-i pasa de tine" pentru ca poti sa dai peste cineva care nu a sunat pentru ca are de rezolvat problemele de pe jumatate de mapamond dar cand suna, iti scrie sau vine vine cu totul si vezi cat tine la tine inclusiv dupa cum te tine in brate cand doarme.
Sau dai peste persoane "corecte", atat de corecte incat te intrebi daca sunt oameni sau robotei si ai surpriza sa constati ca fac niste lucruri atat de "incorecte" cand cred ca nu-i vede nimeni de ramai cu gura cascata.
Si dupa ce intelegi si asta te feliciti ca esti printre putinii care au priceput ca in viata lucrurile nu sunt doar albe si negre, si ca sta in sarcina si puterile tale sa vezi cat e alb si cat e negru in griurile de diverse feluri. Intelegi ca lumea e in continua miscare si te feresti de retete pentru ca retetele de la un anumit moment te limiteaza mai mult decat te ajuta.
Si dupa ce ajungi tu asa destept si treci peste retete de genul "daca x trancaneste despre cei apropiati cu tine inseamna ca va trancani si despre tine cu ceilalti" afli intr-o zi cu mirare mare ca cica x trancaneste despre tine. A naibii reteta :))
Asa ca lumea e rotunda : tocmai cand uitasei de reteta ai dat cu nasul de ea. Si acum te doare. Nasul.
Sau dai peste persoane "corecte", atat de corecte incat te intrebi daca sunt oameni sau robotei si ai surpriza sa constati ca fac niste lucruri atat de "incorecte" cand cred ca nu-i vede nimeni de ramai cu gura cascata.
Si dupa ce intelegi si asta te feliciti ca esti printre putinii care au priceput ca in viata lucrurile nu sunt doar albe si negre, si ca sta in sarcina si puterile tale sa vezi cat e alb si cat e negru in griurile de diverse feluri. Intelegi ca lumea e in continua miscare si te feresti de retete pentru ca retetele de la un anumit moment te limiteaza mai mult decat te ajuta.
Si dupa ce ajungi tu asa destept si treci peste retete de genul "daca x trancaneste despre cei apropiati cu tine inseamna ca va trancani si despre tine cu ceilalti" afli intr-o zi cu mirare mare ca cica x trancaneste despre tine. A naibii reteta :))
Asa ca lumea e rotunda : tocmai cand uitasei de reteta ai dat cu nasul de ea. Si acum te doare. Nasul.
joi, 5 martie 2009
2. ce spunem noi
Mie imi place "Dune". Suna cam naiv dar este cartea mea preferata. Si vreau sa insir aici cateva motive. In primul rand consider ca romanul nu este ... "SF". Multe din situatiile de acolo se intampla ca o prelungire a firescului asa cum il cunoastem astazi. Sa reusesti sa ajungi la performantele cucernicelor maici nu mi se pare ceva de neimaginat in urma unui antrenament bine pus la punct si daca am reusi sa ne antrenam si alte capacitati in afara de cele pe care le numim logice. Sau dreptvorbitoarele care erau in masura sa descopere minciuna/adevarul din ceea ce spui. Cred ca fiecare s-a gandit la un moment dat ca cel din fata lui minte sau spune jumatati de adevar sau evita raspunsuri... Despre controlul prin intermediul glasului pot spune acelasi lucru: fiecare am fost in situatia de a face ceva fara sa ne gandim deoarece cineva ne-a ordonat imperios acest lucru si fiecare s-a aflat in starea in care ordona altuia sa faca ceva iar acela chiar face deoarece ceva din atitudinea noastra a convins. Si asa mai departe cu tot ce se intampla in dune. Nu-i nimc nelalocul lui.
Nu am fost in viata mea in desert dar de cand am citit dune mi se pare ca am trait pe-acolo... Fremenii sunt atat de autentici incat ai impresia ca daca te duci in desert o sa ii gasesti acolo. Cum poate cineva sa descrie atat de exact culori, mirosuri, sunete in cuvinte astfel incat sa ai impresia ca esti acolo ba chiar sa fii in masura sa spui in viata ta de zi cu zi: vezi cutare lucru? e din Dune:))
E atat de ampla incat nu pot sa imi adun ideile. E impresionant volumul de cunostinte al autorului si impresionante sunt domeniile de interes. Cum a putut sa adune atat de multe date despre istorie, religii, filosofii, geografie, ecologie, psihologie si dumnezeu mai stie cate si mai cate. Iar la sfarsit intocmeste un tot de un firesc extraordinar.
Cat despre oameni... personajele sunt puternice, oameni buni sau rai dar caractere puternice, iesite din comun, din acelea care isi croiesc singure drumul si fac istoria. In dune nu prea gasesti destine "mici", e normal sa fie asa. Liderii sunt creionati extraordinar, figurile mesianice sunt de o maretie extraordinara si de un cinism la fel in ce priveste propria persoana. Citind dune intelegi o data pentru totdeauna ca un astfel de destin include intotdeauna dar intotdeauna multa multa suferinta. Vrei cate ceva despre psihologia maselor? Citeste Dune.
Cel mai mult imi plac povestile de dragoste. Desi suna siropos nu sunt nici pe departe din acea categorie. Partenerii sunt adevarate forte fiecare, se sprijina reciproc pardon se completeaza, acolo fiecare isi gaseste "rostul" in celalalt si traiesc povesti de dragoste extraordinare. Si totusi nimeni nu spune ca povestea de dragoste este "extraordinara". Este asa pentru ca o vezi cum incepe, cum traieste si cum nu se termina niciodata, nici macar cand unul dintre parteneri moare... este asa cum trebuie sa fie. In dune nu exista "ne-am plictisit" nici nu iti trece prin cap ca doamna Jessica s-ar fi putut plictisi de ducele ei sau Paul de Chani... Ati observat cat de indragostiti erau dupa 15 ani? de fiecare data cand recitesc si stiu ce va urma -cum va muri Chani spre exemplu - dar ma gandesc ca macar au avut timp destul aia 15 sau 18 ani sa se bucure de cate ori dadeau cu ochii unul de celalat.
In ce priveste religia... Daca vrei o privire de ansamblu asupra a ce inseamna religia citeste dune. Nu mai dezvolt ca as putea vorbi pana maine. Interesant insa este ca desi religiile sunt tratate intr-un fel nu foarte... favorabil sa zicem, in dune gasesti credinta. In rostul omului, in puterea lui de a se incadra ritmului firesc al lucrurilor, de a face lucrurile sa se intample frumos, de a face alegeri in favoarea umanitatii. Dune este o carte despre dragoste de oameni, de viata, de firesc. Zen.
Mi s-a mai intamplat sa citesc carti in care sa gasesc idei cu care eram de acord cum a fost "Alchimistul". Dar in dune gasesc astfel de lucruri la fiecare doua pagini citite ceea ce mi se pare naucitor.
Nu am citit in viata mea o alta carte de mai mult de doua ori. Am citit dune de cel putin 5 ori fiecare si de fiecare data mai gasesc ceva nou iar si iar si pe masura ce trec anii reusesc sa inteleg alte si alte lucruri pe care nu le-am priceput intaia oara.
Cand am terminat de citit dune m-am simtit pur si simplu parasita. Ma invarteam in loc si nu imi venea sa cred ca s-a terminat. Cum adica s-a terminat? Mai erau atatea lucruri de spus, NU SE POATE. M-am gandit ca autorul a murit inainte sa o termine. Pe urma am gasit "dune genesis" de Frank Herbert in care acesta spunea cum ca special a lasat finalul asa, ca sa ne punem si noi mintea la contributie si l-am iubit pentru asta. Atat de mult ne agatam si in viata de zi cu zi de raspunsuri pe care le asteptam de la altii ca pana la urma uitam ca suntem proprii artizani ai fiecarei zile... dar nu singurii, fireste :)
Nu vreau sa spun prea multe de crunta dezamagire pe care am simtit-o cand am avut proasta inspiratie sa cumpar "continuarea" scrisa de fiul lui frank herbert in colaborare cu un ilustru necunoscut. Nici nu mai continui ca stricam atmosfera. Am inteles ca aveau de gand sa scrie mai multe carti eu sper ca au renuntat pentru ca nu erau nici macar pe aproape.
Dar sa revin la Dune. Batraneii de la sfarsit care lucrau in gradina si "aranjau" si lucrurile prin univers mi s-au parut extraordinari. Unde altundeva putea sa fie dumnezeu?
In incheiere vreau sa spun ceva: mie imi place foarte mult "Dune" :)
Nu am fost in viata mea in desert dar de cand am citit dune mi se pare ca am trait pe-acolo... Fremenii sunt atat de autentici incat ai impresia ca daca te duci in desert o sa ii gasesti acolo. Cum poate cineva sa descrie atat de exact culori, mirosuri, sunete in cuvinte astfel incat sa ai impresia ca esti acolo ba chiar sa fii in masura sa spui in viata ta de zi cu zi: vezi cutare lucru? e din Dune:))
E atat de ampla incat nu pot sa imi adun ideile. E impresionant volumul de cunostinte al autorului si impresionante sunt domeniile de interes. Cum a putut sa adune atat de multe date despre istorie, religii, filosofii, geografie, ecologie, psihologie si dumnezeu mai stie cate si mai cate. Iar la sfarsit intocmeste un tot de un firesc extraordinar.
Cat despre oameni... personajele sunt puternice, oameni buni sau rai dar caractere puternice, iesite din comun, din acelea care isi croiesc singure drumul si fac istoria. In dune nu prea gasesti destine "mici", e normal sa fie asa. Liderii sunt creionati extraordinar, figurile mesianice sunt de o maretie extraordinara si de un cinism la fel in ce priveste propria persoana. Citind dune intelegi o data pentru totdeauna ca un astfel de destin include intotdeauna dar intotdeauna multa multa suferinta. Vrei cate ceva despre psihologia maselor? Citeste Dune.
Cel mai mult imi plac povestile de dragoste. Desi suna siropos nu sunt nici pe departe din acea categorie. Partenerii sunt adevarate forte fiecare, se sprijina reciproc pardon se completeaza, acolo fiecare isi gaseste "rostul" in celalalt si traiesc povesti de dragoste extraordinare. Si totusi nimeni nu spune ca povestea de dragoste este "extraordinara". Este asa pentru ca o vezi cum incepe, cum traieste si cum nu se termina niciodata, nici macar cand unul dintre parteneri moare... este asa cum trebuie sa fie. In dune nu exista "ne-am plictisit" nici nu iti trece prin cap ca doamna Jessica s-ar fi putut plictisi de ducele ei sau Paul de Chani... Ati observat cat de indragostiti erau dupa 15 ani? de fiecare data cand recitesc si stiu ce va urma -cum va muri Chani spre exemplu - dar ma gandesc ca macar au avut timp destul aia 15 sau 18 ani sa se bucure de cate ori dadeau cu ochii unul de celalat.
In ce priveste religia... Daca vrei o privire de ansamblu asupra a ce inseamna religia citeste dune. Nu mai dezvolt ca as putea vorbi pana maine. Interesant insa este ca desi religiile sunt tratate intr-un fel nu foarte... favorabil sa zicem, in dune gasesti credinta. In rostul omului, in puterea lui de a se incadra ritmului firesc al lucrurilor, de a face lucrurile sa se intample frumos, de a face alegeri in favoarea umanitatii. Dune este o carte despre dragoste de oameni, de viata, de firesc. Zen.
Mi s-a mai intamplat sa citesc carti in care sa gasesc idei cu care eram de acord cum a fost "Alchimistul". Dar in dune gasesc astfel de lucruri la fiecare doua pagini citite ceea ce mi se pare naucitor.
Nu am citit in viata mea o alta carte de mai mult de doua ori. Am citit dune de cel putin 5 ori fiecare si de fiecare data mai gasesc ceva nou iar si iar si pe masura ce trec anii reusesc sa inteleg alte si alte lucruri pe care nu le-am priceput intaia oara.
Cand am terminat de citit dune m-am simtit pur si simplu parasita. Ma invarteam in loc si nu imi venea sa cred ca s-a terminat. Cum adica s-a terminat? Mai erau atatea lucruri de spus, NU SE POATE. M-am gandit ca autorul a murit inainte sa o termine. Pe urma am gasit "dune genesis" de Frank Herbert in care acesta spunea cum ca special a lasat finalul asa, ca sa ne punem si noi mintea la contributie si l-am iubit pentru asta. Atat de mult ne agatam si in viata de zi cu zi de raspunsuri pe care le asteptam de la altii ca pana la urma uitam ca suntem proprii artizani ai fiecarei zile... dar nu singurii, fireste :)
Nu vreau sa spun prea multe de crunta dezamagire pe care am simtit-o cand am avut proasta inspiratie sa cumpar "continuarea" scrisa de fiul lui frank herbert in colaborare cu un ilustru necunoscut. Nici nu mai continui ca stricam atmosfera. Am inteles ca aveau de gand sa scrie mai multe carti eu sper ca au renuntat pentru ca nu erau nici macar pe aproape.
Dar sa revin la Dune. Batraneii de la sfarsit care lucrau in gradina si "aranjau" si lucrurile prin univers mi s-au parut extraordinari. Unde altundeva putea sa fie dumnezeu?
In incheiere vreau sa spun ceva: mie imi place foarte mult "Dune" :)
1. ce spune autorul
Dune Genesis by Frank Herbert
"Dune began with a concept whose mostly unfleshed images took shape across about six years of research and one and a half years of writing. The story was all in my head until it appeared on paper as I typed it out.
How did it evolve? I conceived of a long novel, the whole trilogy as one book about the messianic convulsions that periodically overtake us. Demagogues, fanatics, con-game artists, the innocent and the not-so-innocent bystanders-all were to have a part in the drama. This grows from my theory that superheroes are disastrous for humankind. Even if we find a real hero (whatever-or whoever-that may be), eventually fallible mortals take over the power structure that always comes into being around such a leader.
Personal observation has convinced me that in the power area of politics/economics and in their logical consequence, war, people tend to give over every decision-making capacity to any leader who can wrap himself in the myth fabric of the society. Hitler did it. Churchill did it. Franklin Roosevelt did it. Stalin did it. Mussolini did it.
My favorite examples are John F. Kennedy and George Patton. Both fitted themselves into the flamboyant Camelot pattern, consciously assuming bigger-than-life appearance. But the most casual observation reveals that neither was bigger than life. Each had our common human ailment-clay feet.
This, then, was one of my themes for Dune: Don't give over all of your critical faculties to people in power, no matter how admirable those people may appear to be. Beneath the hero's facade you will find a human being who makes human mistakes. Enormous problems arise when human mistakes are made on the grand scale available to a superhero. And sometimes you run into another problem.
It is demonstrable that power structures tend to attract people who want power for the sake of power and that a significant proportion of such people are imbalanced-in a word, insane.
That was the beginning. Heroes are painful, superheroes are a catastrophe. The mistakes of superheroes involve too many of us in disaster.
It is the systems themselves that I see as dangerous Systematic is a deadly word. Systems originate with human creators, with people who employ them. Systems take over and grind on and on. They are like a flood tide that picks up everything in its path. How do they originate?
All of this encapsulates the stuff of high drama, of entertainment-and I'm in the entertainment business first. It's all right to include a pot of message, but that's not the key ingredient of wide readership. Yes, there are analogs in Dune of today's events-corruption and bribery in the highest places, whole police forces lost to organized crime, regulatory agencies taken over by the people they are supposed to regulate. The scarce water of Dune is an exact analog of oil scarcity. CHOAM is OPEC.
But that was only the beginning.
While this concept was still fresh in my mind, I went to Florence, Oregon, to write a magazine article about a US Department of Agriculture project there. The USDA was seeking ways to control coastal (and other) sand dunes. I had already written several pieces about ecological matters, but my superhero concept filled me with a concern that ecology might be the next banner for demagogues and would-be-heroes, for the power seekers and others ready to find an adrenaline high in the launching of a new crusade.
Our society, after all, operates on guilt, which often serves only to obscure its real workings and to prevent obvious solutions. An adrenaline high can be just as addictive as any other kind of high.
Ecology encompasses a real concern, however, and the Florence project fed my interest in how we inflict ourselves upon our planet. I could begin to see the shape of a global problem, no part of it separated from any other-social ecology, political ecology, economic ecology. It's an open-ended list.
Even after all of the research and writing, I find fresh nuances in religions, psychoanalytic theories, linguistics, economics, philosophy, plant research, soil chemistry, and the metalanguages of pheromones. A new field of study rises out of this like a spirit rising from a witch's cauldron: the psychology of planetary societies.
Out of all this came a profound reevaluation of my original concepts. In the beginning I was just as ready as anyone to fall into step, to seek out the guilty and to punish the sinners, even to become a leader. Nothing, I felt, would give me more gratification than riding the steed of yellow journalism into crusade, doing the book that would right the old wrongs.
Reevaluation raised haunting questions. I now believe that evolution, or deevolution, never ends short of death, that no society has ever achieved an absolute pinnacle, that all humans are not created equal. In fact, I believe attempts to create some abstract equalization create a morass of injustices that rebound on the equalizers. Equal justice and equal opportunity are ideals we should seek, but we should recognize that humans administer the ideals and that humans do not have equal ability.
Reevaluation taught me caution. I approached the problem with trepidation. Certainly, by the loosest of our standards there were plenty of visible targets, a plethora of blind fanaticism and guilty opportunism at which to aim painful barbs.
But how did we get this way? What makes a Nixon? What part do the meek play in creating the powerful? If a leader cannot admit mistakes, these mistakes will be hidden. Who says our leaders must be perfect? Where do they learn this?
Enter the fugue. In music, the fugue is usually based on a single theme that is played many different ways. Sometimes there are free voices that do fanciful dances around the interplay. There can be secondary themes and contrasts in harmony, rhythm, and melody. From the moment when a single voice introduces the primary theme, however, the whole is woven into a single fabric.
What were my instruments in this ecological fugue? Images, conflicts, things that turn upon themselves and become something quite different, myth figures and strange creatures from the depths of our common heritage, products of our technological evolution, our human desires, and our human fears.
You can imagine my surprise to learn that John Schoenherr, one of the world's most foremost wildlife artists and illustrators, had been living in my head with the same images. People find it difficult to believe that John and I had no consultations prior to his painting of the Dune illustrations. I assure you that the paintings were a wonderful surprise to me.
The Sardaukar appear like the weathered stones of Dune. The Baron's paunch could absorb a world. The ornithopters are insects preying on the land. The sandworms are Earth shipworms grown monstrous. Stilgar glares out at us with the menace of a warlock.
What especially pleases me is to see the interwoven themes, the fuguelike relationships of images that exactly replay the way Dune took shape.
As in an Escher lithograph, I involved myself with recurrent themes that turn into paradox. The central paradox concerns the human vision of time. What about Paul's gift of prescience-the Presbyterian fixation? For the Delphic Oracle to perform, it must tangle itself in a web of predestination. Yet predestination negates surprises and, in fact, sets up a mathematically enclosed universe whose limits are always inconsistent, always encountering the unprovable. It's like a koan, a Zen mind breaker. It's like the Cretan Epimenides saying, "All Cretans are liars."
Each limiting descriptive step you take drives your vision outward into a larger universe which is contained in still a larger universe ad infinitum, and in the smaller universes ad infinitum. No matter how finely you subdivide time and space, each tiny division contains infinity.
But this could imply that you can cut across linear time, open it like a ripe fruit, and see consequential connections. You could be prescient, predict accurately. Predestination and paradox once more.
The flaw must lie in our methods of description, in languages, in social networks of meaning, in moral structures, and in philosophies and religions-all of which convey implicit limits where no limits exist. Paul Muad'Dib, after all, says this time after time throughout Dune.
Do you want an absolute prediction? Then you want only today, and you reject tomorrow. You are the ultimate conservative. You are trying to hold back movement in an infinitely changing universe. The verb to be does make idiots of us all.
Of course there are other themes and fugal interplays in Dune and throughout the trilogy. Dune Messiah performs a classic inversion of the theme. Children of Dune expands the number of themes interplaying. I refuse, however, to provide further answers to this complex mixture. That fits the pattern of the fugue. You find your own solutions. Don't look to me as your leader.
Caution is indeed indicated, but not the terror that prevents all movement. Hang loose. And when someone asks whether you're starting a new cult, do what I do: Run like hell."
"Dune began with a concept whose mostly unfleshed images took shape across about six years of research and one and a half years of writing. The story was all in my head until it appeared on paper as I typed it out.
How did it evolve? I conceived of a long novel, the whole trilogy as one book about the messianic convulsions that periodically overtake us. Demagogues, fanatics, con-game artists, the innocent and the not-so-innocent bystanders-all were to have a part in the drama. This grows from my theory that superheroes are disastrous for humankind. Even if we find a real hero (whatever-or whoever-that may be), eventually fallible mortals take over the power structure that always comes into being around such a leader.
Personal observation has convinced me that in the power area of politics/economics and in their logical consequence, war, people tend to give over every decision-making capacity to any leader who can wrap himself in the myth fabric of the society. Hitler did it. Churchill did it. Franklin Roosevelt did it. Stalin did it. Mussolini did it.
My favorite examples are John F. Kennedy and George Patton. Both fitted themselves into the flamboyant Camelot pattern, consciously assuming bigger-than-life appearance. But the most casual observation reveals that neither was bigger than life. Each had our common human ailment-clay feet.
This, then, was one of my themes for Dune: Don't give over all of your critical faculties to people in power, no matter how admirable those people may appear to be. Beneath the hero's facade you will find a human being who makes human mistakes. Enormous problems arise when human mistakes are made on the grand scale available to a superhero. And sometimes you run into another problem.
It is demonstrable that power structures tend to attract people who want power for the sake of power and that a significant proportion of such people are imbalanced-in a word, insane.
That was the beginning. Heroes are painful, superheroes are a catastrophe. The mistakes of superheroes involve too many of us in disaster.
It is the systems themselves that I see as dangerous Systematic is a deadly word. Systems originate with human creators, with people who employ them. Systems take over and grind on and on. They are like a flood tide that picks up everything in its path. How do they originate?
All of this encapsulates the stuff of high drama, of entertainment-and I'm in the entertainment business first. It's all right to include a pot of message, but that's not the key ingredient of wide readership. Yes, there are analogs in Dune of today's events-corruption and bribery in the highest places, whole police forces lost to organized crime, regulatory agencies taken over by the people they are supposed to regulate. The scarce water of Dune is an exact analog of oil scarcity. CHOAM is OPEC.
But that was only the beginning.
While this concept was still fresh in my mind, I went to Florence, Oregon, to write a magazine article about a US Department of Agriculture project there. The USDA was seeking ways to control coastal (and other) sand dunes. I had already written several pieces about ecological matters, but my superhero concept filled me with a concern that ecology might be the next banner for demagogues and would-be-heroes, for the power seekers and others ready to find an adrenaline high in the launching of a new crusade.
Our society, after all, operates on guilt, which often serves only to obscure its real workings and to prevent obvious solutions. An adrenaline high can be just as addictive as any other kind of high.
Ecology encompasses a real concern, however, and the Florence project fed my interest in how we inflict ourselves upon our planet. I could begin to see the shape of a global problem, no part of it separated from any other-social ecology, political ecology, economic ecology. It's an open-ended list.
Even after all of the research and writing, I find fresh nuances in religions, psychoanalytic theories, linguistics, economics, philosophy, plant research, soil chemistry, and the metalanguages of pheromones. A new field of study rises out of this like a spirit rising from a witch's cauldron: the psychology of planetary societies.
Out of all this came a profound reevaluation of my original concepts. In the beginning I was just as ready as anyone to fall into step, to seek out the guilty and to punish the sinners, even to become a leader. Nothing, I felt, would give me more gratification than riding the steed of yellow journalism into crusade, doing the book that would right the old wrongs.
Reevaluation raised haunting questions. I now believe that evolution, or deevolution, never ends short of death, that no society has ever achieved an absolute pinnacle, that all humans are not created equal. In fact, I believe attempts to create some abstract equalization create a morass of injustices that rebound on the equalizers. Equal justice and equal opportunity are ideals we should seek, but we should recognize that humans administer the ideals and that humans do not have equal ability.
Reevaluation taught me caution. I approached the problem with trepidation. Certainly, by the loosest of our standards there were plenty of visible targets, a plethora of blind fanaticism and guilty opportunism at which to aim painful barbs.
But how did we get this way? What makes a Nixon? What part do the meek play in creating the powerful? If a leader cannot admit mistakes, these mistakes will be hidden. Who says our leaders must be perfect? Where do they learn this?
Enter the fugue. In music, the fugue is usually based on a single theme that is played many different ways. Sometimes there are free voices that do fanciful dances around the interplay. There can be secondary themes and contrasts in harmony, rhythm, and melody. From the moment when a single voice introduces the primary theme, however, the whole is woven into a single fabric.
What were my instruments in this ecological fugue? Images, conflicts, things that turn upon themselves and become something quite different, myth figures and strange creatures from the depths of our common heritage, products of our technological evolution, our human desires, and our human fears.
You can imagine my surprise to learn that John Schoenherr, one of the world's most foremost wildlife artists and illustrators, had been living in my head with the same images. People find it difficult to believe that John and I had no consultations prior to his painting of the Dune illustrations. I assure you that the paintings were a wonderful surprise to me.
The Sardaukar appear like the weathered stones of Dune. The Baron's paunch could absorb a world. The ornithopters are insects preying on the land. The sandworms are Earth shipworms grown monstrous. Stilgar glares out at us with the menace of a warlock.
What especially pleases me is to see the interwoven themes, the fuguelike relationships of images that exactly replay the way Dune took shape.
As in an Escher lithograph, I involved myself with recurrent themes that turn into paradox. The central paradox concerns the human vision of time. What about Paul's gift of prescience-the Presbyterian fixation? For the Delphic Oracle to perform, it must tangle itself in a web of predestination. Yet predestination negates surprises and, in fact, sets up a mathematically enclosed universe whose limits are always inconsistent, always encountering the unprovable. It's like a koan, a Zen mind breaker. It's like the Cretan Epimenides saying, "All Cretans are liars."
Each limiting descriptive step you take drives your vision outward into a larger universe which is contained in still a larger universe ad infinitum, and in the smaller universes ad infinitum. No matter how finely you subdivide time and space, each tiny division contains infinity.
But this could imply that you can cut across linear time, open it like a ripe fruit, and see consequential connections. You could be prescient, predict accurately. Predestination and paradox once more.
The flaw must lie in our methods of description, in languages, in social networks of meaning, in moral structures, and in philosophies and religions-all of which convey implicit limits where no limits exist. Paul Muad'Dib, after all, says this time after time throughout Dune.
Do you want an absolute prediction? Then you want only today, and you reject tomorrow. You are the ultimate conservative. You are trying to hold back movement in an infinitely changing universe. The verb to be does make idiots of us all.
Of course there are other themes and fugal interplays in Dune and throughout the trilogy. Dune Messiah performs a classic inversion of the theme. Children of Dune expands the number of themes interplaying. I refuse, however, to provide further answers to this complex mixture. That fits the pattern of the fugue. You find your own solutions. Don't look to me as your leader.
Caution is indeed indicated, but not the terror that prevents all movement. Hang loose. And when someone asks whether you're starting a new cult, do what I do: Run like hell."
miercuri, 4 martie 2009
zambet de primavara
Ce cap mare au vestitorii primaverii...
Ma gandesc ca ghioceii nu sunt prea frumosi "stricto sensu" dar cu siguranta sunt fermecatori. Au un fel de a fi cutezatori la modul blegut :)
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