little things that make us happy

there it was. a small patch of ice in the middle of the walking promenade in Berlin. and on it a family with two small kids that played joyfully. taking the slide again and again. i had to stop and take it in.
on the one side i witnessed people in a Silvester fever. last day shopping, making sure everything had been well thought through. the procedure, the food, the drinks, gifts, the fireworks. had the calls been made and postcards really sent? had Berlin been enjoyed as it is supposed to? maybe just a little more fun there, just to make sure it was what it is ought to be.
and i wonder from who? ought to be? supposed to be?
on the other side, there was this child. not even knowing it was Silvester. to him, it was a day on that the PATCH OF ICE was discovered. nothing more.
where on the way we lose this innocence and exchange it for what is supposed, expected, needed, wanted and ought to be done?
if we take a real deep and honest look into ourselves and pose a question of what we really want.what is the unique and genuine wish we are having inside, we soon realise that almost everything is somehow connected to the expectations. that almost nothing is ours.
and so when we find it. when we discover the real, one, single wish that is ours we can make it happen. it is the only way to fulfill ourselves. that is why we never are satisfied, always wanting more, craving for the next moment of success.
we are a conglomerate of all that has been told, that has been taught, that has been experienced and that has been paid forward. how much of it is "that has been felt"?
and so i wish:

may you jump, when supposed to walk
and cry out loud, when demanded to be silent
and walk to him/her, when afraid to be turned down
and say what you feel, when afraid of exposure
and may you play, when told to be serious
and may you walk away, when taught to stay
and may you find the little pleasures of life
and then stop, when wanting to make another step.
or you just walk,
be silent,
back down,
keep it in,
be serious,
stay afoot,
walk by the little pleasures of life
and take another step,
if that is what you feel is real.

happy 2009.

how we are

this is how we are. closed in. focused on the things we do. everyone minding his own business. we hardly are within ourselves. we are closed up. we do that out of fear being involved into something else. something that might take more effort to do, than a usual "comfort" state of being.
if a woman'd fallen on the floor, in the first few moments, no one would have stand up to help her. in the first moments, that is. because we react instinctively. and the first thought isn't "help her", but "let someone more adequate help her" this is the so-called "distribution of responsibility" in psychology. and it is not a judgemental statement from me. just the fact, that it is given a name, makes it something generally accepted, hence no bad feelings about it. but it is still truth.
but really, instead of being within oneself, people choose to lock our selves up. the difference between minding our own business and being attentive of oneself is the direction to which we open. the latter being open on outside, the first inside.
we could tell the difference, if we'd be faced with it. but it is such a rarity, we are taking it for a part of mysticism. the people opened on outside, but being attentive of one selves are taken as a mystical personalities, like guru, shaman or wizard.
i watched Australia, yesterday. a great movie. a movie that is open on outside but very concentrated on itself. it gives a lot. in colour, story, music, photography, character development. and it stays focused by never giving in to the cliche, never exceeding into kitsch. if you have the time, watch it. it is true, this one is captivating. saying that for a movie lasting almost 3 hours is a great risk. but i am taking it. i have not been so touched by a movie in a long time.
this is how we people should be. open. giving and receiving the same amount we passed on forward. instead, we claim things that aren't ours, we don't ask for them, we talk about others without knowing the facts, except for our own insecurities. we choose to go when we should stay and we can't stay in peace when we are on our way. always somewhere else in mind, always someone else in state.
today, i stopped. i watched him in the eyes and smiled. and he smiled back at me. kindly.

was the best thing i did in this year. what a great conclusion of it was.


happy new year to you all. who ever you are.

:D

real-ness of emotion

i visited the Jeff Koons's Celebration exhibition in Neue Nationalgalerie Berlin. he, being often accused of doing Kitsch, answers to that, he can't be guilty of doing it, because he doesn't believe in judgements. and saying something is a Kitsch is stating a judgement. saying something is a Kitsch, has a label that something is unworthy and placed in a lower level of hierarchy. he said, the things are what they are. and the most one can do, is to simply accept it and let it do it's work.
it got me thinking about interpretations of the art work and messages in it, that we so often want to understand in order to "really" see the meaning. he was the first author i came across, that said it isn't necessary.
so what are interpretations? are that the feelings i have while watching? the words? what is then real or does it even matter?
is there anything, which we can relate to as being totally true?
things are real as far as the definition of "real" states. things i can acknowledge by using various combinations of my 5 senses are real. the sounds, the smells, the surfaces and shapes and the things i can taste.those are real, ignoring the discussion about truthfulness of the senses. instead of that, i relate to the Zen view on things. Zen just feels fire warm and ice cold, because when it freezes we shiver and welcome the fire.
this is one reality. personal one. that kind of reality makes one's true-ness, real-ness. to this, however there is another reality. the Reality. i write it with capital "r", because it is the one, that involves every single part of the universe. like Wittgenstein said in his first assessment: "everything that takes place is real". that is everything. even the smallest occurrence, is part of the great Reality. like stone moving for a fraction of time. everything that IS, is real. even something that is only a structure for something that happens, is real. but nothing really stays still, does it?
quantum mechanics explains the universe as a constant vibration on the smallest of smallest levels. things just appears to be still. in a greater dimensions this vivid life submits to the laws that change it into new entity.
and then, there is the other reality. the surreal, the esoteric, the imaginative. and the "sur" defines it as an esoteric structure of mystification of the reality. for this, there is no logical explanation. it is a matter of belief, hence, if one feels it as true, it must be so.
so at this point i turn to myself. is a question of real-ness of emotions, feelings even needed? i think not. the mere feeling makes it real to me. it is a part of my reality as it is. the feeling just is.
is it justified? if we are talking about loving, is it true or mutual, is it just imagination? is it good or should i feel vulnerable? humiliated? what to do with it or what is going to happen? is it going to grow into something more?
there is no point in questioning. the emotions simply ARE. love emotions should have no logic in them. if i think again, nothing should have logic in its self. Occurrences just ARE. so the "growing into something" is not a matter of "is" but rather a part of "will be" and that hasn't happened yet. and when it does, it will be a part of "is". the whole transformation lost in a past, that doesn't exist anymore. things will happen the way they happen. there is but this moment. and this. and this. and all the moments in between the ones i pointed out.
coming to a conclusion. i love. Now. You. and now still. I do. love. really. there is love...in me.
simple as that.
And it doesn't even need Your confirmation.
so there it is! this pink Heart. sweet and attractive. it hangs. or it floats light as a feather. it is an illusion, when you learn the fact, it is made of steel weighting over a Tone. and even with that information it doesn't lose it's lightness. it seems like all the projections on the wide reflective surface hold it in a state of "simply being".
there. floating. is there a story behind?
it doesn't matter. acceptance is important, more than every reason, which the art work was derived out of. that part was a reason for the production, for the creative mind to be stimulated, not for the viewers to be influenced by. honestly, if You'd see this "Hanging Heart", hanging in front of You, 2 meters tall, 3 meters high above, wouldn't you just feel like a boy/a girl filled with wonder, captivated by childhood dreams?
that is all there is.

You at the end of the things and in the beginning of it all.

appearance misleadings

and so i was there. on the S-bahn. driving to the Potsdamer platz, the favorite place on earth. there is nothing to see that has a great artistic value, nothing inspirational per se. just buildings, the old mixing with the new. a Mecca for architect mind it was. now it is just a Platz offering everything time and money consuming.
but the energy is so seductive. it might have something to do with the fact, it stayed empty for the whole Berliner Mauer period and now, with the purpose, the energies that kept locked just flew freely. so i return to it almost every day, because of them. the energies that blow freely.
it got me thinking, however. the inside never collides with the outside appearance. there is aways something hidden inside. a message, a n interesting shop, a smudge on a toilet door, a small gallery, a story, a vision, a photography. the fact, i have only a small part of it accessible, makes me wonder of how many little secrets there are to see and i will never get to meet them.
the people are the same. there is one facade. and the inner side is physically the same with everyone. the organs, playing role of the room distribution. but the unnoticeable, the story, the greatness of spirit, the psyche, is different with everyone. there is noone like someone else. and of what we see on the outside, there is just a small part that actually collides with the inner self.
on the train, there came a man. his face was robust, the lines carved into his skin were deep and the look was distant. someone could easily say, his attitude was arrogance. the clothing supporting the assumption he was a real tough guy, the one you don't want to start a fight with. in one point he reached into his backpack and pulled out a book. a fantasy heroic book placed in the future. he had dreams, alright. but the image, the look, the arrogance to the outer world stayed the same. his, eyebrows slightly curved in suspition.
and then the image changed. he smiled widely as he saw a friend boarding. his pose, before closed and defensive, became boyish and awkward. suddenly, his spine wasn't that strong, his arms just couldn't find their rest. and the look was wide open, eyes never ceasing to wander in attempt not to meet her gaze in fear he could blush. but he did blush. there must have been love going on.
and so i was. on the S-bahn. on my way to Potsdamer Platz experiencing the change in human behavior, dealing with Halo-effect we are all submitted to. seeing that judgement has no reason and getting the proof, we are much more than the just image we project.
we are the stories, the history, the places we have visited, the dreams we carry, the feelings we grow, the plans we are making and the experiences that change us into something totally diferent of what we were before they took place.

we are everything, appearance is nothing

About Enlightment

Richard Avedon said, there Wasn't an Innacurate photography. That All photographies Were accurate. All of them Reflect Images, None of them Was Truth.
I agRee to some Exent. They aren't Truth, but they are True. EaCh of them is a slice of a time-space continuum, each of them a small part of the Truth, the cought moment an eye can Capture, but the Brain ignores.
And so it is here above. A moment when the Sky in Berlin turned Black. Shapes gone, lines only sensed, there is but Light to see. It is the exact way i see the Enlightment. A blackness closing in on you, while the Earthly slowly disappears. Fears and Longings, Objects aNd the Imaginative, Feelings and Apathy...everything fades to Nothingness and only the Mind in its pure essence Remains. Its glow shining stronger and more Powerful than ever. It is in that Moment, that you can invite the Earthly Again into life, becAuse the attacHment is lost.
The funny thing About enliGhtment is, it is UNwanted, Unexpected, Unplanned, Not supposed To happEN. It comes on it's own And is Unexplicable. THe words trying to Explain it are Uncapable, the Mind trying to Analyse it is too Rational, too Logical. Enlightment has no Logic. IT simply is..an Occurance, A Happening, a Moment...a Slice of my personal Life Time sPace conTinuum.
so it happened, the enlightment, that I will, In spite of the unAbleness of the Words, lay down on You. I thought I am Going to Iceland, to the cold, to the snow, to the blizzards, to the closed-up people, to the Steril nordic design, cold art, thoughtful Music .... all Seen As a Cube - Ice cube that I, with my explosive nature, warm Heart, Bold MOves, hot Insides and passionate Way will manage to melt down. But the more i Think, the more I feel, It becomes clear to me:
I am That CUbe. The cold, Closed-up, fearesome, dettached Cube that will HAve to melt, once put in the situation like that.
it is Why I decided so spontaneously To go to Iceland. To go to the Extreme, where I can become someone Dwelling, hidden inside for my whole life.
SO, It is not about the IMpressions of A Fairyland, but the Expressions of a Fairy.

My Becoming.