little girl, listen to me

The most important thing, that I've learned here is probably that - surprise! surprise! - everything happens for a reason. I mean, you can lament only so much about how much of a loser you are. How you wanted to do this and that when you grow up. There is no point in whining because a rose is a rose and a tree is a tree, a brook is a brook and an ocean is an ocean and the atlantic ocean is not the pacific ocean.
Of course I admire and envy those people who already know what their path really is. I mean, those who have a path that is very obviously specific. People who are involved in great social projects, who follow their urge to help and this and that. Who make a change by being a change etc. I am not even sure whether I do that. You know? I am confused. Now, my big sister could easily say that that's exactly the point and I need to do something about that. But - well, oh well. I am on my way. Ha. It is ironic how much I've learned through this mess. It's been an extremely beautiful and introspective time and the downside of it was that I seemingly wasted a lot of money on a music school although I won't become a porfessional musician (at least that's my guess) and other than that have pretty much BEEN a loser in terms of being of help to my niece and my sister. 'My own personal little development country' as different sisters would put it similarily to each other. My oldest sister said 'well, by helping us you help the world too because of the charity work we'll do and the greater impact we'll have with a bigger voice'. I don't doubt her aspirations and admire her greatly for the work she's done. My other sister was more concerned with my niece's personal growth and health, just as I was and said, it doesn't matter whether you help one person or many, it's as important.
Little did I expect that me too, haha, needed to help me first. I need to grow up. Great. I've said that many times before. It's like losing weight, it doesn't happen in one day. If i could I would undo the damage I might have cause, I am so sorry and embarrassed for that.
Little did I know that more than my niece I would wound up trying to help my love. Which, in the end, makes more sense too because an aunt is an aunt and a lover is a lover. You know what I mean???? that was something that was bigger than we were. I hope I can catch up with my niece. Some day.
Now is the time of gathering. Pieces, lost, little girl, do you remember? Pieces, shattered in front of me, sun reflecting golden in the sherds. Reticent I am. Talking too much. Hush, lullaby. Please be careful.

Tori Amos is the biggest inspiration in terms of people in my life right now. And Amanda. And my brave little niece and her brothers. And my biggest sister in her struggle and her husband in his.

Little, girl, listen to me. This has come to you because you need to learn how to be a captn and a warrior. You need to accept that your work won't be of a specific trade but it will concern bringing different threads together, on the same table. That's it. Be careful in how you are. Your' rough edges don't need to resurface just because he's gone. Be soft and strong. As you go.

what i love

I love Tori Amos. And I love Sinead O'Connor and Tracy Chapman and Skunk Anansie and Lauryn Hill... I don't care whether or not they are lame or not. Whether there ultimate motivations are whack. Or stupid. Or whatever. People always seem to know why other people do things. They don't. They don't know. They might judge, yes, they can, and if it is up to me they can do that until they are old and all they will be able to do is to stare out a window, probably widowers, and watch and judge all day long anything that happens to happen on the street out there.
When I am old I want to laugh with children.
You can do whatever you want.
Just, don't kill cockroaches. Or flys. Or spiders.
Please.
These days especially I love Tori Amos. "Jupiter" and "sweet the sting" are in my head, I am reading about her right now ('Piece by Piece'), she is so fascinating and truly inspiring. Funnily enough she has a background that I can completely relate to, as far as I can see at least. Her native american side and her christian side. This is pretty much what I grew up with. In a probably very romantisized way and it is was her task and it will be mine to come to terms with that and find what is beneath all those layers.
"Josephine" has been haunting me since I was 17. The warm summer rain on my face when I was in his arms for the first time. The airplane to Alaska, how I looked down and thought about love. About him and failure and my heavy throbbing heart.
Juli's fucked up car. Josephine. 'Not tonight Josephine' was all I knew about the lyrics back then and that was all I wanted to know then. It was always NOT TONIGHT for me and him. Pedro. And then I grew up a little more but never enough and I arrived in Hollyweird, I see in retrospect that I have been really not much of a help to my oldest siter, I see how ridiculously not grown up I am yet. And Josephine came back to me.
As a song and as a theme and now I know what it really is about. It is about the NOT of a wonderful being coming into life.

When somebody does something that they have to do, that is their vocation and even if they are not immensely known or popular for it - if you stumble upon them and see what they are doing, persistently, consequently, you find true inspiration there.
So I will leave and I won't go down this way. I won't be another Tori Amos but I certainly will become myself.

black and white and pink roses

It's about time to light up. The morning is sweet and the sun greeting better than coffee. I get up and stretch, hop into my jeans that I stole from my 16 year old niece -yeah! - put my notebook (the diary) and Tori Amos' book into my bag and jump on my newly-bought skateboard on my way to Miss Wonderful-light-up-my-day Amanda.
You know, it's funny how life sends you the right people on your way at the right time. I don't know what I would do without her. Seriously. She encourages and supports my take on this love, my struggle to fight the heart break and turn it, instead into an expanding heart. You know... From far away another red-haired lady helps me on my way, I am guided and nurtured and supported by those beautiful women, it is incredible. Thank You. You, up there, in there, around here. Thank you.
So I wave my hello to my friends far away and try not to kill too many people on my way down Hollywood Blvd. It is early in the day so there are not too many tourists. My still not very skilled moves on the skateboard are potentially pretty dangerous.
But fun.
At Ralphs I stop and by the pink rose. It winks at me like a witty lover and I know I have to get it to Amanda. Actually I was going for sunflowers but it's so seductive I can't say no. O-juice, one croissant, just to uphold the tradition of breakfasts and some rasberries, a plum. Ready to go. She still sleeps but her sunshine smile already flirst with the day as soon as she opens the door in her PJ's. A little later we go get coffee at terrible starbucks with the starbucks gift card that those German backpacker girls gave me as a thank you gift. As we walk by a nail/hair studio we stop, spontaneously. Pedicure for her, please, and finally, my legs should get waxed. A little pain here and there :) but smoothness just feels oh so good and the treat too.
'Lame' Jack johnson plays. I feel reminded of days that belonged only to me and me only. Yes. I move on.

Full Moon

I didn't expect it, but it was a strangely comforting and warm and delicious and wonderful and candle-light awesome feeling to read obi's comment to my puppet show post. That someone watched the full moon and then went and read my post and actually enjoyed it, feels probably like this tickely feeling when your men loved the food you've been preparing for him during the whole day or something like that. I don't write to please other's really. I try to please myself and of course that's the most difficult thing to do and actually I am rarely satisfied. But other then that pleasing thing there is the 'i need to get this off my chest NOW' factor that helps me to deal with my personal issues before I plunge back into this crazy world.
I don't know. I guess I am just happy right now and I'll write later more for the satisfaction factor ;)

peace and onle luv always

Jay

The Puppet Show

We met him on the strip on Franklin, where my wife used to go. Byrds, next to the old bookstore. The moon rose behind a thick palm tree and the clouds kissed the night sky. Chinese lounge music from the 40's. A woman's voice, trembling and heartbreaking and he let the puppet dance to it, in despair, pain, agony. With shaking hands the puppet reached out, he was shivering like in uncontrollable pain - then collapsed like a house of cards, beating his hands against his head, crouching on the floor like a desperate person reaching out for help, for a little water in the desert of our desolate souls, for bread in our overfed homes. In a dramatic final fit he threw himself against the light, it was as if I heard him crying, sobbing from that place deeply hidden in our chests and then one last look and one last fist against the imaginary sky and he sank on his back, he fell, in a final resolution, giving in to the forces that tore his life and his heart apart, facing the sky and the sky only.
Now when you looked at the puppet player while this drama happened on the little wooden table in the midst of Franklin Ave. inbetween a couple of busy bars/restaurants, with chic LA chicks and wannabe directors, you saw something even greater happening. You saw a man totally absorbed in what he was doing, compassionately guiding the marionettes moves with fingers and hands shaking ever so slightly, his eyes following the unfolding drama on the little time and space refuge he had created. The sign on the floor read: The Puppet Show - give me what you can, in coins, in bills, in old letters or even older knitters (what's that?), in dust of pockets or a stone from the street. Give me what I deserve.
Amanda and I stood in awe. He was so intriguingly involved in his creating a very profound emotional performance that he captured the innocent beauty of God's children in his hands. He looks so hot, we whispered and we meant it very profoundly not in an obscene way.
Then he changed the puppet. Now it was a big one, with a dark long coat. In her meager hands she held a cigarette and danced to the slow blues that was playing now. Every now and then she would take a drag, and then slowly blow the smoke into the sky. Inbetween drags she would cough and almost die it seemed, from the smoking and then, swinging back, look at the cigarette in her hand as if at a lover, a person you have known for so long and all you can do is look at her with forbearance and indulgence, loving, hating, an addiction that you learned to love like a husband you can't get rid off.
He would drag the smoke through a flexible tube and as he later told us, the old tube got really yellow and all in all this performance was a big turn off to smoke yet in the same time beautifully and precisely capturing the ironic beauty of smoking.
As the smoke was still curling up behind his shoulders we left. I think maybe we should invite him to sit with us I said and so we did. We went back, invited him and then sat down outside this very sweet restaurant. We had some wine and the moon looked gently down on all the people.


And the magic is still on the streets. And the beauty is still happening.

Le Gurp

I remember when I was young. We went to South France, to this camping site called 'Le Gurp' close to Bordeaux.
Now, Bordeaux Red has always been on my top five colors and I was maybe 12 and I loved it. It was in the days of my first uncertain steps alone into this big world. I just had passed a month alone in a French Family in rural Southern France close to Toulouse where I had met Amanda. Amanda was this girl who knew German, but i lived with a family that didn't know any other language but French. I didn't even know how to ask 'why' in French and I tell ya, being a 12 year old girl in a big French Family is nothing but one huge big fat adventure.
They would talk until late (that was 9 or 10 PM lol) during dinner. The conversation flooded over my head like a tsunami, I think I couldn't really communicate until the last day but when I returned one year later I understood all of the sudden and miraculously a lot of French. It's great being a kid and learning languages like that. I think mostly we communicated body style. I remember how I learned the word 'gros' (which means fat or big) when we had a tickle fight. hahaha. Oh my. it was meant to describe my little chubby self but to be honest, I wasn't chubby at all. I have just always been big.
Anyways.
Le Gurp. We went there with Amanda's family and the second summer we went there with my two elder sisters who had been to Finland the summer before, all by themselves.
As we drove down the road to the camping site me and my brother and father were extremely excited. We leaned out the window and yelled 'Le Guuuurp! We're coming!!!!'
For some reason it was a great disappointment for me, when my sister Juli, to whom I always had looked up, found it to be 'not that overwhelmingly awesome after all'. It was as if she just had declared myself as a failure. Lol. Children.
We learned how to dance rock'n'roll there though and I studied every day Algebra with my dad. I wanted to THINK.
The black boison berries were delicious and many an hour past by with me and my mom picking berries. The stone pine trees smelled lovely and my dad got overwhelmed by diarrhea one day and had to take a shit right in front of our neighbouring camper. It was hilarious. We laughed for hours about the incident.
My brother Gawan, Amanda and I spent hours jumping down the dunes, I cut my toe and saw a boy flying his kite and I was nervous to talk to him. 12 years old.
I had a body that was fit and lean and I was all into sports and being tough. I have a picture of me with Amanda at the beach. The wind blows into our hair and we look like we are going to conquer the world.
Le Gurp and the time in North Spain in the Pyrenees (we left Le Gurp early to go there I think) is the smell of my life right now. I constantly have it in my heart for some reason. It is connected to my love and to how I am right now. To what I do. It is incredible. I don't know whether I have to go there - is it calling me? I don't know. It sure was a beautiful time. As it is now. In all its messy glory.
Let the ocean teach you...

gorgeous female friends

So I ask him:
Don't you like Amanda??????!!!!!
He said:
No, no, I do, like a friend I mean, but not like that you know...
I said:
WHY? HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE????
He said:
Well, everybody has a taste...

Okay, now: you have to understand. Amanda is not just anybody. She is like one of the most gorgeous-t female friends I have! She is just a blast, as a person, as a woman... you know... good inner and outer looks to put it that way. Check her website out to know what I mean (click the title of this post). And it never crossed my mind that there could be someone who wouldn't fall head over heels for this gorgeous woman!

I said:
Oh my God! Give me five!!!! :)

Because: it might be me talking cliche again, but there is something significant to the fact that my Italian friend talks like that. I know, I know, everybody would talk here like that maybe, but the difference is: he is actually really good friends with her. And something that I've been missing here a LOT, is that it just seems less conventional and normal to have a good good friend from the other sex. The idea that this is possible without an underlying, maybe hidden sexual attraction doesn't seem to exist here in the plural.

I could have jumped in his arms in that moment. It makes me plainly happy to meet someone again, who has this spirit...And his friend from Spain with whom I had been talking about his girlfriend that is going to visit him next week ALL the way from Spain, feels the same way about that issue as we do.

I am just saying....

friends

So I drift in the pool on my back, looking into the stars, letting my mind wander back to Greece, to the time that I was blessed to share with the wonderful people of my class. With a lot of them I shared all my childhood and youth. With a lot of them I went to the same class, to the same school since the first grade. One of them is Lisa. I love her dearly and she jumped right into my mind when I thought about people that just stay in your heart for some weird reason. She is one of those people that give me strength and happiness by just thinking about them. How genuinly she is concerned and moved, how this shines through when she talks and thinks and acts. Wonderful human being, my sweet Lisa. Her birthday is tomorrow. Wow. We are 23. Can you believe that. That is beyond everything we ever were able to imagine.
I talked to her the other day, and we remnisced about those old wonderful days and laughed at how we believed that every dirty joke we made would make our pubic hair grow one at a time/per joke. No, we didn't particularly like growing up that way. But it was beautiful and we are still close to each other's minds and hearts, despite all the distant years, the boyfriends and other things that got in the way during those years.
I love you Lisa. thank you for being such a wonderful friend.

And we are all there! Lisa, Lena, Silvia, Theresa. And I think of Caspar a lot, too, and Kamal for some reason and Christian. And Jolanda and Annabelle and Anna-Lisa.....But you four are those that remain for real. I can't get over you and I hope I never will. I love you. :) I dedicate one of my songs to you . This is me and my guitar in Venice Beach. I am very startled about the fact that I am actually here. With my guitar. Learning playing the guitar. It was somewhat unexpected in my life plans. Weird. But that's it and I am glad I did. I have had wonderful experiences here and I've met beautiful people here too. Even though I am very spoiled by you guys. Having such beautiful REAL friends, such as you, makes it more difficult to find really good friends else where. But I am glad I did find two or three friends where ever I went after our time and especially here too, who fulfil those difficult prerequisites that you set up way back in the days ;-))
How we thought we could save the world....

musical update

the reason why i never really liked to perform for people anymore was that i wasn't proud of myself. i just realized that today.
I am running around like a little child right now, asking everybody whether I showed them already the classical Tango piece that I just learned by heart. It is ridiculous.
the coffeehouse LPW teacher, too, was really full of praise and said that he has never seen me THAT concentrated on stage and that he thinks my whole 'practicing to improvise on stage'-thing isn't the best way for me to get where I want to be.
It is very exciting for me to see, that I MADE progress, can sit down with scores and learn a beautiful piece of music, sit down with my favorite guitar songs on loud and just transcribe them. it is GREAT. it is what I need to go on by myself. and my own stuff comes later. now is the time of studying the masters!

in Hollywood you fake it if you can't make it

So today I met my French student for the first time.
Some Dad called me after I posted that 'Great Language Teacher German/French/Russian/English' Ad, which was actually meant to target foreigners who want to learn English.
But he wanted a French teacher for his son.
"oh Money is not an issue...'
his son, too, when I told him that for the first hour it would be okay to pay half of the usual price told me
"oh, money is not a proble, I have it...'
he is from Beverly Hills.
Went to the Beverly Hills Highschool.
Well, so what do you do when you have a really big fish in your net but you don't know how to kill it?
My French sucks. C'est la galere, vraiment.
I am not a walking dictionary.
Unfortunately his French is pretty good... *laughs*
well, I explained him that 'we' usually teach in a team and that my partner (my friend Barbara who talked me into doing all of this) is a native speaker and we want to approach him from as many sides as possible, therefore we have her for excercising fluent conversational skills and I would teach him how to effectively learn a language, because as I learned myself French as foreigner I know what it takes.... blablabla *gasps*

In Hollywood, you know, all it takes is a huge smile and a convincing attitude, a 'I am the right one and will make sure that you get the most appropriate, personalized and best teaching' lie and that's it.

In Hollywood you fake it, if you can't make it.

(sidenote: making it in Hollywood means making it big time as a star)

well well. So I will teach French but I very much hope I get some people who actually want to learn English.
I might have to change my ad.
It was fun though. Our neighborhood cafe hangout place changed ownership and the dude is from Morocco and speaks French too. He will hep me ;-) and actually, he will put some of my paintings on his wall....
Now is that cool or something. I just need to paint them yet, of course, but you know....*lol*
oh PEOPLE OUT THERE: i HAVE become Hollyweirdian. after a while you just get the drift. and then you do it. it's all about the attitude dear fellas....


what a life

*ps look out for my posts about my 'obese children camps' that I will get tons of money for!

remixed

obviously I am quite fascinated by my little black-white experiments. lol

get it going

so i sit down and listen to 'wish you were here' by Pink Floyd. it's time I get it going and copy those marvellous guitar solos and riffs. I am so happy I am in a position now to figure things like that out by myself. I can't wait to live even more and learn more and be better. Ah. it's such a soothing thing, playing and practicing music.
yesterday night I was at the Hollywood Bowl... Mariza, supposedly 'the' Fado-singer of our times joined the Hollywood Bowl Orchestra in a musical journey through the 20 mediterranean countries, her Fado songs were goose-bumping and made me cry so beautiful it was.
There is something to the southern folkloric styles that is so passionate and genuine, it cuts right through the bullshit and touches your heart.
It was a very good moment, although I really hated to be in a crowd with so many people, i get a little claustrophobic these days. it was also a real drag to have to wait for the girls for ever. I simply don't have the patience right now to wait totally chilled until the least one has her stuff together. That's why I don't like going out too much with people. I d rather be by myself and in silence.
Mariza said something about music that was very interesting and oh so true - she said, music is the power of the future... it unites us regardless of our color, religion, political policies, etc. music is the voice of the heart and we all have a heart. that's what unites us in the end across all borders.
For me it was a consolatory moment. I can't be in Brazil right now, although my sister organized this amazing international youth conference (www.connectivity2006.org) and my decision not to go could be very easily disputed. But I have to follow my heart and although I really would love to be with them right now I have to stay here and put all my energy in what is NOW. MUSIC. that is.
okay and now i go practice....
aloha!
g

just playing...

my mom.
my mother.
I remember, one day she was driving me down to town and cried. 'I always dreamt of my girls and me becoming good friends when you are older' she sobbed and it was really tragically comic. Then she laughed under her tears (a trademark from all women on this side of our family) and looked really beautiful... She was so sad. but I was too young to be a friend. However, now that I gained the right amount of distance both physically and emotionally from those days I am proud and happy beyond words to anounce officially that my mother has indeed become one of my best friends.
And the motherly-touch she still has is not at all bothering me but I actually really still want her to be my mom besides being my best friend.
Today I felt so shitty. Really. So ... incapable of doing what I want to do. So paralysed. So wrong. And then we talked and everything is better now. It was so good to talk to you mom. I love you.
Man, I am so happy about my mom being the way she is and the way she raised me and the way she loves.

She is something else.
I mean, being over 60 and still climbing trees...Now, does that rock or something?
I mean, she is SO PRACTICAL. When she visited me last year at my college she helped me patientally to frame all my painting for my exhibition and put up with all my stress. And then we went out to the 'it'-secret place in Berlin, this bar at the river and she saw the swing and just .... enjoyed it like a kid!
Her candle of loving enthusiasm still gets lit like the candles on our x-mas tree.
She made my life the fairy tale world that it has been and she gave me all the weapons to protect that and protrude everything else with it: an abundance of songs, prayers, experiences that help me to get through anything just by thinking of it/singing it/saying the prayer. She trusted me more than anybody I know (starting with letting me climb trees as much as I wanted to and continuing with letting me go through my stupid Bo-experiences. She always trusted me and I hope I never let you down Mom. Thank you so much. And just most recently, the way she trusts in me and my love and us doing the right thing is better than any consoling words anybody could have for me.)

Thank you so much. i am obviously lacking the right words right now. But to make a point before giving up I would like to say that all the advice you gave me and that infuriated me many times - it was the best I ever got. You are it, Mom. You are it. Your intuition rocks. Your sixth sense rocks. Your flexible ideas rock. Your feeling heart rocks. Your beautiful creativity shines and is my star. Your consistency is one of the strongest supporting factors in my life. Your ability to feel into other people is incredibly admirable. Your heart warms my life. You gave birth to me. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. For being so strong in your weakness. So beautiful in any mess. So adorable and so humane. Anything that you did and regret now was nothing. It made you a human and once you descended from the olymp of parental perfectness you became even more admirable and adorable.
Yeah! Alaskan girls rock!!!! And Alaskan Mom's rock even harder!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am dancing on the roof for my mom. She is the best friend i've got. (to the right in this pic. see how her sister's admire her too!!!! you never knew how beautiful you really are mom, and that made you even more special and adorable)

LIFE is what happens while you are busily making plans

So,
you know what is funny?
life is what happens ... exactly....
so i was so scared, so shitless scared man, yesterday. I thought it would be the most horrible day ever and instead of flaking out as my inclination told me to do, I went right through it and thought, you know what, screw it, I don't have anything to lose.
The weirdest thing, however, is how those most fucked up days turn their back on you and despite the horrifying anticipations transform into the most convenient, most effective, most beautiful day ever.
Geez, I should have known better. It happened to me already at my final exam day last quarter. It was the most f**** up situation, I had to take my sister's dogs to the doctor, I was about to miss my finals because I was in freaking Santa Monica and my school is in Hollywood...I didn't really study for this one final and had forgotten to sign up for the other.
So I made it to school, despite all odds and was ready for the worst.

-

and I got the best grades ever. I was superb, to make a point here. I mean, seriously, I don't pad my own shoulder usually, but it just went so smooth, it was unbelievable.

And the same thing happened yesterday. The rehearsal i was so scared of got delayed until Friday (gives me more time to practice and leave a good impression at least!), I played all the LPW's (Life Playing Workshop's for which we get credited at school) that I signed up for (means I can play again next week, if you don't show up you get punished and can't play for a week....well well....talk about over institutionalising a rock school...) and I even made a new song on stage at the Coffeehouse LPW and people liked it.

Wow... And as the icing of the cake my good friend Heiko from Germany called me for a looong chat(thanks!) and I went to the movies with Miles and Amanda....Good old times!!! I tell ya.

so: note to self: although it might seem all fucked up, just keep right on going and never give up. You never know whether it'll turn out good and smooth like those times..yeah....flaking is not the solution :)

crazy

i am sitting here, totally paralysed.
i need to practice, i need to listen to those disgusting songs and listen to them a thousand and one times, trying to figure out the guitar parts under the freaking keyboard.
i have to be able to play all that tonight
i feel terrible
i am scared
and it even doesn't matter.
weird. human beings i mean. weirdos.

stay lady stay

This song is loaded with associations!!!
it all started with dad playing it in the car when we were driving through France, I think. It was a storm day and there was heavy rain. and into a heavy mood after a sibling's fight the song emerged like a shining star in the air, virbrated and filled my heart with a strange sense of joy and longing, a desire, for the unknown, somewhere out there. it was simply beautiful...the first seconds of the song are the most important ones, it's such a powerful entrance, it draws you immediately to this magic place of hope, desire, love and longing. and love.
it is also the song of my prince and me and it makes me cry.

Lay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed
Lay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed
Whatever colors you have in your mind
I'll show them to you and you'll see them shine

Lay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed
Stay, lady, stay, stay with your man awhile
Until the break of day, let me see you make him smile
His clothes are dirty but his hands are clean
And you're the best thing that he's ever seen

Stay, lady, stay, stay with your man awhile
Why wait any longer for the world to begin
You can have your cake and eat it too
Why wait any longer for the one you love
When he's standing in front of you

Lay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed
Stay, lady, stay, stay while the night is still ahead
I long to see you in the morning light
I long to reach for you in the night
Stay, lady, stay, stay while the night is still ahead

stay lady stay

This song is loaded with associations!!!
it all started with dad playing it in the car when we were driving through France, I think. It was a storm day and there was heavy rain. and into a heavy mood after a sibling's fight the song emerged like a shining star in the air, virbrated and filled my heart with a strange sense of joy and longing, a desire, for the unknown, somewhere out there. it was simply beautiful...the first seconds of the song are the most important ones, it's such a powerful entrance, it draws you immediately to this magic place of hope, desire, love and longing. and love.
it is also the song of my prince and me and it makes me cry.

Lay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed
Lay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed
Whatever colors you have in your mind
I'll show them to you and you'll see them shine

Lay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed
Stay, lady, stay, stay with your man awhile
Until the break of day, let me see you make him smile
His clothes are dirty but his hands are clean
And you're the best thing that he's ever seen

Stay, lady, stay, stay with your man awhile
Why wait any longer for the world to begin
You can have your cake and eat it too
Why wait any longer for the one you love
When he's standing in front of you

Lay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed
Stay, lady, stay, stay while the night is still ahead
I long to see you in the morning light
I long to reach for you in the night
Stay, lady, stay, stay while the night is still ahead

childish

there is a good way of being childish and a bad way
tonight it was bad.
i lost it.
i freaked out on the bitch and I only freaked out half way instead of sticking to it. at least i would have had a genuine freak out but i didn't. i stopped, but too late and that's how I found myself in the round of jolly stupid idiots who do the paris hilton/nicole richie/ lindsay lohan and who else not thing and start a bitchy fight.
i wish *sigh* that girls were like guys and would just punch each other a couple of times and then go drink a beer together. seriously.
so it is official, i had a fight with the bitch and i don't really want to deal with it, i mean the consequences of it. fuck man. really. i am so stupid. it s kind of disappointing but then again, i never said i WAS grown up, you know?
i really have to try hard to grow up though.
i am in the midst of it.
and it is so annoying. i wish i could be a nine year old again.

allez les bleus

okay, man, it is official, my intuition kicks ass! it always has. the things my intuition tells me don't have anything to do with: inclination/lust/mood/desire/fear/antipaty or sympathy/etc pp but it's simply what it is.
For example, I knew the French would win but I really wanted Portugal to win and hey, I think they played GREAT! Man, I wish the goalie would have scored a goal when he ran up to help his teammates... Man that was a game! I loved it... And that Figo and Zidane changed shirts says everything, for me... I think they both are really great. Whatever, it doesn't matter, it s just some very girlie football/soccer rambling here, I can't claim to know much about the rules. lol
But my intuition is awesome, still...
I mean to an extend. I get surprises too, but sometimes I get this sneaky feeling that they happen only because i didn't WANT to see what was really going on....
Yeah, humans, we are so clingy.


Other than that: I pretty much made up my mind NOT to go to Brazil, after all, as you know me that might change last minute still but I am pretty sure it won't.
I climbed up Runyon Canyon yesterday night and came to some conclusions by doing so. It is great to be walking in nature, all by myself. Brings me back to my stronger self kind of. I want to focus on school for those last ten weeks.
So, now, allez moi aussi!!!!!!!!!

love!!!!

jayjay

little wing

Well she's walking through the clouds
With a circus mind that's running round
Butterflies and Zebras
And moonbeams and fairy tales
That's all she ever thinks about
Riding with the wind

When I'm sad, she comes to me
With a thousand smiles, she gives to me free
It's alright she says, it's alright
Take anything you want from me, anything
anything
Fly on little wing,
yeah, yeah, yeah, little wing

(Jimi Hendrix)

dock of the bay

(On my way back from Frisco to LA this dude who gave me a shared ride had this song on....and I found out this awesome voice belongs to Otis Redding. And then, haha, I listened to the lyrics and - it's about Frisco...What an irony... Just as the book I am reading right now is on the name patron of San Francisco: San Francis from Assisi. Beautiful childhood memories linger in the air....us visiting Assisi, my dad praying and the donkey on the camping ground and an overwhelming choire of birds waking me up at 4 AM. And I left my home in the Black Forest for the LA bay. ey yeah. that's life and it's looping on and on....)

Sittin' in the mornin' sun
I'll be sittin' 'till the evening's done
Watchin' the ships roll in
Then I watch 'em roll away again
Sittin' on the dock of the bay
Watchin' the tide roll away
Sittin' on the dock of the bay
Wastin' time...


I left my home in Georgia
Headed for the Frisco Bay
I've got nothin' to live for
Looks like nothing's gonna come my way,yeah...
Sittin' on the dock of the bay
Watchin' the tide roll away
Sittin' on the dock of the bay
Wastin' time...

Looks like nothing's ever gonna change
Everything still remains the same
I can't do what ten people want me to
So I guess I'll remain the same,ohh

**Sittin' here rolling my bones**
This loneliness won't leave me alone
2,000 miles I've roamed
Just to make this dock my home,yeah...
I'm sittin' on the dock of the bay
Watchin' the tide roll away
Sittin' on the dock of the bay
Wastin' time...

I left my home in Georgia
Headed for the Frisco Bay
Sittin' here restin' my bones
This loneliness won't leave me alone,yeah...
2,000 miles I've roamed
Just to make this dock my home,yeah...
Sittin' on the dock of the bay
Watchin' the tide roll away
Sittin' on the dock of the bay
Wastin' time



loneliness is essential to understand who you are. and i looked over the bay, the sun was breaking through the fog hugging the Golden Gate bridge. And pelicans flew over my head and my voice was very sad. Salt water to salt water I say. And here and there a sun ray, lighting up your face with a smile.
Life is beautiful even in the saddest moments. And when you hang the head to cry you gotta lift it up again and smile into the sun

she showed me her wedding spot

on tamalpais mountain behind the Golden Gate Bridge....

and when we came over the mountain to Berkely the heat dropped 40 degrees.
the desert was behind us and the air was boiling...

and this trip happened to be at a time when everything changed.
for ever

who would have thought. bob dylan

1997. Bob Dylan released 'Time out of Mind' and with it the song 'love sick'.
I was best friends with Pedro, who taught me how to laugh again, Caspar, Viola and Regina, we painted and read a lot and spent whole afternoons with acting, like, who can cry most authentically and so forth.
Our class went to Slovenia, to the castle Borl, which we helped to restore with the Organization Idriart, Lisa and I decided to go back for the festival in the summer, prepared the trip in the greatest details (i.e. who is going to put us to bed in time etc.pp) so that when we asked our parents they couldn't say no.
Two girls, 13 years old, alone on the train across Europe. We read Martin Buber, carried heavy with our mind blowing questions concerning life and god and the universe. For some reason we met a lot of 'old old' people who were studying psychology (gosh, those 'old' people were probably younger than I am now teehee) and I found my aunt's contacts after four days searching in the crack of my sister's room.
This aunt introduced me to the term 'prince charming', whom she desperately longed to meet and the abbreviation PC was the source of a lot of insider jokes we stupid little teenie girls cracked.
It was the summer in which I found people who I could ask what I really wanted to ask, in which I met Lampi and hence the future development of me going to Russia on a hiking trip and then again, to learn the language. it was the summer in which first insurmountable love crushed into our hearts and it was the spring when the 'cloverleaf' how they called us (Pedro, Viola, Regina, Caspar and me) went to the Netherlands in a daylong trip, to stay there for a week. It was the spring of experiencing a deep friendship with a guy (caspar) and the abyss of love (with Pedro) who opened himself up to me and whom I rejected, which I regretted many many times later....and this was how he eventually taught me -unknowingly - how to cry.
He looked at me one day at the fire, and asked me whether I wanted to become a singer, as I was singing 'California dreaming'. You have such a beautiful voice.

Well, now I am here, in California, actually studying guitar to become a better singer/performer, not with less but certainly more questions.

It has such a magic to it, when you are young and just have this feeling what you are going to do 'later'.
However, when this 'later' approaches faster and faster, you get all dizzy and desperate, sometimes...

1997, and I don't think I listened to Bob Dylan's record, that 'marked a new era of his artistic expression.

almost ten years later I sit in Hollywood, California, have 'Lovesick' on repeat and shake my head about space and time and about this summer, that still sticks out as the most important summer of my whole life....

and right now I can relate to this song so well: that's exactly how I feel some times about me being crazy in love like that, here, in freaking California....

LOVESICK

I'm walking through streets that are dead
Walking, walking with you in my head
My feet are so tired, my brain is so wired
And the clouds are weeping

Did I hear someone tell a lie?
Did I hear someone's distant cry?
I spoke like a child; you destroyed me with a smile
While I was sleeping

I'm sick of love but I'm in the thick of it
This kind of love I'm so sick of it

I see, I see lovers in the meadow
I see, I see silhouettes in the window
I watch them 'til they're gone and they leave me hanging on
To a shadow

I'm sick of love; I hear the clock tick
This kind of love; I'm love sick

Sometimes the silence can be like the thunder
Sometimes I wanna take to the road and plunder
Could you ever be true?
I think of you
And I wonder

I'm sick of love; I wish I'd never met you
I'm sick of love; I'm trying to forget you

Just don't know what to do
I'd give anything to
Be with you

Yo-Yo Ma - soul of the tango ...Piazolla....

useless minutes but at least a genuine effort to procrastinate with style. tango filling my restless soul with the un-nameable and memories and longings dance like reflections in a dark window. the room is dimly lit and I have no fear.
where to start, that's the question. pack luggage for the trip to frisco/mammoth? clean apartment? go dancing? or just dreaming away on the fluffy eiderdown my love brought last time he visited?
we are not living together yet, life is taking us in different directions. it's funny how little control we have in the end. and it's funny how much we can accomplish if we genuinly try.
it's like tango, i guess, you have to dance. the dance between faithful guidance of whatever is supposed to be and of creating your own destiny.
basta

much needed space

for some reason the most irritating thing ever is, when your feelings change.
change in general, i think, is most welcome and most feared by many of us.
we always crave it, once we have it, it scares the shit out of us, cuz we have no idea how to label this change, we don't have any boxes prepared yet, although we should have kept one open just in case the change would come by and knock at the door, right???
so, changing feelings are scary like hell.
if it was up to me, I'd dwell for ever in the mystically beautiful realms of butterfly-love, exclusive love, exqusite love, seventh' cloud love. you know...
and in the same time I always say, hey, you got to put effort in it! nothing comes for free etc pp, the whole 'investment called luck' stuff.
so there was some changes coming around, popping by so to say and i spent many hours at night and during the day at the verge of crying just because I was so scared. The change of feelings changed the color of the glasses I was looking at the world up until then and the world looked so weird through those new glasses, the future looked painful because it showed me many decisions that I possible most probably would have to make and so forth, it was a living hell of very few moments in the now and very many moments in the later, filled with sour wine of twisted mindfucks.
ah.
and then, after doing nothing for a whole day and much unwanted but self-imposed space it dawned even to my childishly freaked out mind, that no matter what I thought I felt as a change in my heart didn't really affect the core of the love I feel and live for him.
no matter what happens, this guy is like crazy important to my life, to my heart, to my mind, to my body, to my soul and whatever I do.
In every aspect, in the negative and the positive, in adapting and in diverting from what he wants.
wow. that's been a trip, really. whatever we have to go through huh?
and all those analytical thoughts don't matter in the end of the day when the missing kicks in big time.
like my very wise Mom said: just practice a lot guitar and everything will turn out just fine.
It's not so much about making all the right moves all the time but putting effort into things with all your heart.
and don't let your mind fuck too much with your heart. seriously. don't.
things will be what they will be and are. que sera, sera.

and until then, I love you just as I do. crazy.

and even if this is a new trick of my much lamented of mind, even if this is a trick just to make me feel more secure about my heart and destiny - even though I might blend myself or jump into illusions .... I don't care.

You are still the only thing that keeps me here and that makes sense after all. You are, you are, you are, you are!!!!!!!!!!

handwritten letters

my dad insists on handwritten letter contact.
now today on 3 d Street Promenade I had a discussion with a Russian Championship juggler, whether or not it makes sense to do that. He said, do you think, your dad really reads your letters twice? And carries them around with him?
Well, I ll ask that my dad, haha, but let me explain a further really realy good point, why writing letters is even better than blogging:

MAYBE it's just me, but every time I wrote my dad a letter (and maybe it really depends on the recipent too, to make this work) something, in the flow of writing (as opposed to typing!), happened: something jumped into my mind, something revealed itself in a way that I hadn't been thinking in this way before.
For example, in the attempt to explain him my current pretty much fucked up situation (i am basically torturing myself with a lot of very very difficult thoughts and feelings related to my heart, my life and my decisions what to do and where to be and how to be yeah) I said something that surprised myself but made a lot of sense when I followed the train of thought and explored it a little bit more.

It was about diplomacy and the sense of responsibility in my life and in my person.
I realized that pretty much all of my life I have been in similarly disturbing situations of inner self-conflict because of that. Because of me being able to understand the other's point of view too well and not being able to be stubborn about my point of view, in case it happens to be weak in the light of the other's point of view.

Okay, fuck, that sounds complicated. Lets put it this way: as a teenager, for example, it always bothered me greatly that I couldn't be as rebellious as my sister or friends of mine, because I simple understood my dad's points way too well to be able to just disregard them. I tell you, that's really mind boggeling when you just want to be blind and stupid and teenager like you know?

then...sense of responsibility towards my life and other people is basically at the core of my current problem. I feel a responsibiltiy towards my lover, towards my heart and towards the other part of my heart that is calling me to jump back on the train I feel I have to be on (in terms of studying/professional life/ commitment to this world/planet/society)
And although you might discard astrology as crap and bulshit, I tell ya, this is a very very piscie-like problem I am stuck in right now. haha. which, of course, doesn't make it less of a problem.

But as everything else too, those things have the other side of the coin: Although it feels terribly wrong to be here I can apply these reoccuring factors of my life/persona (that is diplomacy and responsibility) on my current situation and say: okay, it feels freaking wrong to be here and all that, but in the same time I have to be true to myself and get out of this situation in a proper, appropriate and respectful way:

>I will have to pay tribute to my heart, give it a benefit of a doubt and assume that it is not blinded and entirely swept away by my Gypsy and let time show what it is about ( a year has to be enough though, I mean, hey, after all we have to move on and be active too, God helps those who help themselves, right?!)

> I will have to be responsible towards the heart that I opened myself up to and that I asked to open up to me too. That means, I can't just leave all of the sudden and out of the blue, after having built up something so precious. I really do care about my love and I in no ways want to hurt or break him. I want to pay tribute to his feelings too, which are very serious, more serious than I know and let time show, whether this thing that I feel is growing inside of me, will turn out to be the same flower that he sees blossoming in his heart right now.

> I will have to be diplomatic with my life: I will have to work and get rid of my DEBTS in a grown-up way and in the same time pursue and prepare my future studies so that I can jump right into them, when the train comes by. That is, I will work a job that will be of benefit to my latter studies and prepare myself at home for the entrance exam.

> I will have to be responsible and pursue music in a serious way, so the money and effort I put into it pays off and wasn't for nothing.

That is what I will do and therefore it is okay to be here, although it feels so wrong.
I think it is really the environment that gets on me the hard way, I can convince myself as much as I want, that it doesn't matter where I am, especially when my heart is filled with love and I can be with my lover, matter of fact, this feeling of being at the wrong place comes back to haunt me so what am I gonna do, huh? Ignore it and let it explode one day?
Nope. I will acknowledge the fact that it feels wrong, that life has an utterly weird sense of humor or putting us to test, and try to get stronger, instead of weaker, by seeing the situation as it is and making the best out of it.

I just realized, you know, that no matter how much I will try to build up a life for me here, it won't feel right. It feels still empty and senseless in a way. Rock climbing, playing flute, acrobatics, juggeling, camping, hiking....all this doesn't have the same vibe of making sense, as it does back home. For which ever reason, that is how it is, and what can I do about it? Nothing. I will do it, regardless, enjoy it, practice, give my best, but in the end I will have to follow the calling and go back.

Even if it is only to realize that it is more important to be with the one you love.

The prospect of studying international relations in Dresden is electrifying. It contains a semester in Russia, I could improve my Russian skills and dude, live in freaking Dresden. PERFECT I say.

Ha, thats a snapshot of right now, and ahm, it is the result of writing a letter to my dad, trying to explain how fucked up I am and how I've lost view of everything and how I can't see no more.

The point: I CAN SEE. I just had to write this damn letter.

so there we go!!!!! I can only recommend that old-fashioned 'snail-mail' thing!!!

mirrors

it's so funny how last year i was struggeling, oh wait, it was even winter 2004, well anyways, how I was busy struggeling to fall in love with a perfect man and situation and despaired at the failure of my attempts and my heart.
And how now, in a mirror inversion, I am struggeling to give a perfect love with an imperfect man and an imperfect situation the right place in my life.
it is devastatingly funny. yeah.

environmentalism inverted and internalized yeah.

after struggeling for so and so many years against the stupid idiots who treat this planet and its resources as if it was something you can just replace any time (ah, the mars missions! you actually think motherfuckers! great. thank you too), after environmentalism experiencing a decrease in interest in the general populace and gaining nothing but a tired, cynical smile by most of the hip people around me I came to following conclusion:

Christel was right.
She told me, when I was 7 or 9 or whatever, wanting to found a Greenpeace Youthgroup in order to save the Whales and the World (which I eventually did, when I was 12, I mean the founding of the Youthgroup, not the saving, unfortunately)
'Jayjay, You can't save anything unless you clean up yourself first. That's why in this monestry (I forgot where) the monks are only allowed to help other people when they have gone through a school themselves, to get their act together, that is, tackle the internal environmental destruction so to say'

Well, who could blame me, I didn't get this at this young an age, but to my credit I have to add, that even then I sensed that she was probably right, which, of course, didn't stop me from doing what I thought I had to do.

But now, reading a lot about religion lately, (I can only strongly strongly recommend any book by Joseph Ratzinger, who is the pope now.... especially 'Salt of the Earth' and 'On God and the World'. It is extremely interesting and opens up views on things you've brushed off all your life, following the general opinions that are available among young people who like to critize just about everything they don't understand really. sorry, but that's how I feel about it now.) I realized more and more and once again:

THe problem of environmentalism is, that the internal pollution of human beings in our society is totally neglected. The take on outer pollution can only be successful when it attempts in the same time to tackle the problem of internal pollution.
I've always thought, that the same mindset that makes you justify smoking (= polluting and eventually destroying your 'inner' lung-rainforest) is the one, that allows for the schizophrenia of destroying rain forests on this planet. I've had a discussion about this with a friend of mine and I remember how he defeated my point but somehow his argument didn't stick with me and I still think that.
(proof of how stubborn we are when it comes to our own little privately acquired opinions! yeah yippie! I am so smart!)
You are welcome to defeat my point again, until then I will keep sticking to it, to give myself the benefit of a doubt

Julia Butterfly Hill, by the way, seems to be very aware of this problem, when I heard her talk here at a Community College in LA she mentioned that there is a need of regaining a spiritual connection to the earth, to the living, and she righteously mentions the native tribes of America to be a very very precious resource for us to help us along with that.
However, as I am currently reading and thinking a lot about Christian Belief I might add, that, here too, the respect for the living and this planet is inherent and should be reflected in the actions of any one who calls him/herself Christian.

You know, who can f*** off, in my opinion> you name it. I don't like him either, as much as I dislike any idiotic business mind that disregards the fragility of life.

Therefore, Bush is only good when it grows where it is natural.

investment called LUCK

I want to tell you a tale of luck, an example of what kind of magical things I experienced ever since I started listen closely to the voice of my heart (also known as Intuition I guess) and how I relate this to this incredible upwards and inward spiraling love I am blessed with right now.
How I relate this to love and relationships in general, because I feel that in our times it becomes increasingly difficult for people to fight through the difficulties any relationship brings with it and give up way too early, when the first bliss wears off. It is actually like in business, investors don't invest for free. if you work hard, it will, however, pay off....and we don't have to be afraid of those rewards and of being so blissfully happy. If we don't take it for granted nor shun the work....but well, listen, and see whether you agree....


Paris, 2002.
Little Jayjay, with an address of a brother of a cousin's wife in the back pocket of her jeans arrives at Gare de L'est, gets into the metro, finds a Mc Donalds to do the morning toilet and runs, as if abiding to an exact timing, into another backpacker who hadn't slept the whole night out of fear that somebody would steals his backpack.
8 hours flashback: Jayjay sitting with her bigger sister at an African Market in Basel, Switzerland, discussing why or why not she should go to Paris (a plan she had had since a year but it somehow didn't work out for her this summer). Bigger sister, resolute and engaged like always, says 'here is money, we buy a ticket NOW, you take my backpack and everything, I see you in a week'.
The magic started right there. Things worked out miraculously. Intuition turned out to be right with every step she took. Memories like blossoming Appletree dreams.
The Canadian backpacker was the first helper on her way. Together they found a little island in a lake in one of those wonderful parks where they slept under bushes, in safety in one of the craziest cities of Europe. Innocence didn't allow any ill-willed energy cross her path, maybe it was as if she touched upon the good-will of the people she encountered, maybe those were just the good ones, maybe she just had a very good Guardian Angel on her way.
Next step: Montmartre. The original destination. Here she wanted to join the portrait painters who make quick money with tourists, to learn how to paint portraits for her year project on portrait painting at school.
Not necessarily feeling like staying at this distant cousin's house she curiously awaited what would happen.
There she was, Amandine, a young art-student, painting amongst the old bitter artists, stagnated on Montmartre since decades. Jayjay felt immediately that this would be her next helper, but as to put her intuition to a test, she waited patientially and didn't do anything about it.
The miracle worked here, too, amandine asked her to join her this evening and as she found out that Jayjay would sleep at the trainstation she invited her to stay in her room, she moved into her boyfriend's apartment, right next to her room.

A whole week passed.
Full of magic and luck and learning, a new friend was found. Amandine was amazing.

Returning home Jayjay turned to her dad.

Dad, I am scared, I had too much luck. It scares me. I don't understand how I deserve this. Will I have to go through extreme bad luck as to balance this out?

Her dad looked at her and said simply: No, Jay. It is an investment from the future into you. If you do your best now with your portrait painting project, if you give everything, you justify it. Work hard.

And so I did.

And so I will in this love, this wonderful relationship, with this precious precious love of D.R.B., my Gypsy...To justify this incredibly luck of living a fairytale love, the love of the third princess, the love that makes you feel like you are the luckiest person in your family, on this entire planet without making you feel bad about it but just incredibly grateful and hopeful for everybody else to encounter the same...

I will not take it for granted. I will pay back, in effort and work, what future invests in me now.

How do You do that?

Spirals of Love

How do you do that? Ho do you make me fall in love with you again and again, like in neverending spirals, that dig deep into the last forsaken corners of my soul and in the same time elevate it so high that the air around it starts tasting pure and purer - like light in spring winds - and then all your words bare fruits that taste sweet and refreshing although at times the growing seemed so bitter and the hard way and your eyes grow flowers like appletrees blossoming in blissful colors and scent, and all the blue-turqoise of virgin nights that fall upon Hollywood's hills through my window carry the sweetest velvet memories of your touch and your thoughts and being and caring in a whisper to my ears that earlier encountered the overwhelming warmth and depth of your kiss.
How do you do that my love, my lover and friend, how do you rise from the deepest grounds so high with your wonderful wings that carry me and guide me and protect me oh so unspeakably perfect now?

And then I see
We both are in the danger and the protection and the bliss and the pain of love's embrace, His wings that we entrust ourselves like children do, carried away to grow together in His light, wisdom, presence, His love, to guide us both, us small lovers to reach beyond the expected and known.

sleepless

All I said was good night and then I quickly hung up, you never picked up after that.
Now it is early in the morning and I haven't slept since 3 AM, I never really did, restless I lay in the dark and dreamt of you and cried because i love you so much.
You hold the balance, my love, to everything. You hold the balance to the love of my youth, whom I loved so deeply and intensely, you hold the balance to my dad whom i admire way too much, you hold the balance to me, we are perfect, you and me, for this world that you say you hate so much and I say I love so much. And the children we both have loved since long ago.
My love. When you don't answer me I get all worried. I can't sleep, I can't sleep, I can't sleep, I am sleepless and I want it to be all good and I want you to know that I love you, Ich liebe dich, te iubesk, entirely and fully.

dexploration of love

Rolling into your arms in the morning
Blissful mourning
I look into your eye
Feel free and incredibly excited
Rhymes in my head but it won’t come out right
All I know is
I fell again
I fell again
I fell again
Into your gorgeousness
Into your awesomeness
Into your lovingness
Into your strength and your weakness
Into your eyes
Your heart
Your
You
You are the first thing I want to see in the morning
You are the one who is able to turn me upside down
A frown becomes a smiling clown
And you hold my hand my protector and my preacher
When you see me like no one has seen me
When you feel me like no one has ever felt me nor made me feel
And you are my teacher
And my diciple
And my best friend
And my best critic
And my best check
And my best balance
And my sweetest love
And the most caring lover
And the most important and hence comforting factor
In the stormy search for ways
That I once read in a time
When I already knew that
You would
Always
Be
And have always been
In my heart
Inside of me
I want you to make love to me, with me
I want you to kiss me bliss me with your arms and hands and eyes and everything
Your body soul and spirit on their way to explore
Your smile pushed deep inside into my core
That’s what I could be living for for free and for ever and I know I will always want more

BITCH

Being a witness on a battlefield, right next to the fucking enemy, yah, being indirectly involved, and you can't do anything, hand's tied, pride can't be put aside, you certainly don't want to fight on such a petty paris hilton level like THIS BITCH.
ah. Public Enemy is the right music to process this anger that is smoking my head right now. Cool down, before you burn your reason baby. Ha.
Is it I am too lazy to fight now? yeah. I guess. This would take it to an whole different level, and because we are girls, more and more people would get invovled, would feel like having to take sides and stuff, and suddenly your whole little planet is on fire. it s so stupid. okay, dudes and dudessas, I admit: GIRLS ARE STUPID AND SMELLY...

she was so ugly. when she turned to her, her pretty little face that usually is one of her better assets ('i just came from a movie/modeling casting and they LOVED me') was so ugly it made me vomit emotionally.
you know how they say true beauty comes from inside? yeah. true ugliness too.
I know we all can be stupid and ugly and stupid and selfish but this bitch is so amazingly tough hearted, I am plainly surprised.
I don't know what's wrong with her but I wish I wouldn't want to know.

I always hated about myself that I always seemd to have to understand the other's perspective oh so well, it spoiled the whole fun of being a teenager, I mean, hey, what fun is it to fight with your dad for something you want just to get his point in the end and being incapable of being stubbornly rebellious and do it your way anyways?
it s no fun really.

so i wish i had a car right now, could drive somewhere to cool my boiling blood down, listen to LOUD music and bitch around, throw the meanes and most low-life-like arguments on her pretty little head in my head. yeah.

how can someone, who claimed to be a FRIEND be such a bitch, so heartless and unforgiving?
one of her arguments to T___ when they had this fight yesterday was: I spent SO MUCH TIME talking with you about your problems with your ex, when he broke up with you etcetc and you STILL WENT BACK TO HIM!
what - did you feel worthless as an advisor because she disregarded your advice? grow up bitch.

makes me think of what Paolo Coelho said in the 'Zahir': true friends are not those who are only there in times of - surprise!- bad times.
because most of them feel so fucking important and special when they can pamper you and make you feel better. it's not really about you when they can't be happy for you either.

and friendship should be unconditional, you know, you work things through, you laugh, love, hate, argue, fight, but you don't QUIT a friendship because of something stupid like that.
she is selfish in not wanting T____ having the same drummer like her, and T_____ is selfish in wanting to be able to jam with him regardless of that.
is that a reason to quit a friendship?
no.
betrayal kills friendships but it still has to make some sense, after all, to an unaffected mind.

and that's so highschool stupid that it makes me sick to have to witness that.

I AM LIVING IN THEIR LIVING ROOM.

and when she turned to T____ with her face distorted by this inner ugliness came through, how she yelled at her with such a sharp and heartless voice. I got shocked, this nice girl I knew is like that? woah. dirty little bitch. get OFF MY COMPUTER NOW, DON'T fucking SMOKE WHEN YOU ARE ON MY LAPTOP. I told you million's of times. and when I come home, ask me whether I maybe want to get on my computer. and when I want to sleep don't fucking smoke and talk to your sister in stereo. hey, if you wanna fight with T_____ why don't you show common courtesy and go in your guy'ses room? HM???

Hm, I forgot, you don't HAVE common courtesy. you don't even wash your dishes yourself, even though we made you food. You left T_____ in YOUR clothe mess because you didn't take advantage of my love offering you to get your stuff with his truck. you left your unwashed clothes with the washed ones. it started to STINK like old pussy in the room. T____ put up with this for two months...


and now you are coming what you wanted to make a home long ago, which you treated like a storage place and claim it as your place just to be a BITCH and fight a dirty respectless fight.

BITCH

change around for him

sometimes i get scared i would change around for him, completely upside down or diagonal, just, - off the track I felt in my heart.
then it hits me hard: the track is where ever i go.

and you and I are the microcosm of humanity

Gabriel Faure and Edward Elgar and firealarm

The firealarm went off earlyl in the morning.
She came in, Jayjay, jayjay, what's this sound???
I jumped up, from nothing to one, like my friends know me, like a war general always on alert, but my eyes blacked out and in my early-morning-just-woke-up hurly-burly i found my way like a blind person through the kitchen and livingroom, groping with my hands through the dark dizzy grey world my eyes allowed me to see.
It's the firealarm thing I mumble, where is the thing that D. took off??
I don't know...
Her voice like a little child's whining.
We start searching, she can't find it.
I say: look with your hands and laugh, because it's so early in the morning and my Mom always used to say that...
Finally I find it in one of the kitchen drawers, grab a chair, the sound is piercing and very very annoying. I put it back on but it doesn't stop, go and tell them downstairs I say and she says but there is no one and opens the door to go anyways and we realize its EVERYWHERE.
HA~! Now I feel excited. It's like in school. you never know whether it is for real or not, but you have to leave the building anyways. We run downstairs, I grab my money and feel sorry for the guitars and downstairs it is packed with early-morning-i-am-so-groggy people and I laugh...

Good I downloaded Faure and Elgar yesterday.
The music is so soothing

lovely time or timely love/the wheels of time or so...

well the yesterday came back to haunt me.
the minutes, crashing into each other while people talk on cellphones in internetcafes and we all share the problems, and then, the minutes get so dense and tense like thunderstorm clouds gathering at the horizon that we think that yesterday comes back, laughing, in the clothes of a tomorrow, that has turned its back on us.
the really cool ones, they don't say it, but they know, are those who don't care. because cool is cold, and who knows better how to survive the heat of overthinking brain-engines than cool freezers?! ah, but, i tell you that the fire will catch up with each one of us one day
as many minutes that we let crush into each other we will pay back later in fine, ironed, smooth, perfect minutes of suffering. love! love is not changing anything, haha, the thunderstorm laughs cynically and yesterday with all its crushed minutes jumps on our head like you jump on boxes. yesterday and tomorrow are friends but not with the fresh mornings. the morning belongs to the sun...

to the different light

the light, that shines inbetween, when nobody looks, and it is different, like a early summer morning in Rome, inbetween earthy colored houses that tell stories of fucking history, not yesterday of our petty little lives, no , keys, works, schools, faded out people, killed ones, loved ones in the routine of the running wheels of time.
but then

love?
you hear a blackbird singing because you have been out all night, your mind clouded, like yesterday clouds with numbing alcohol clouds that sooth the sorrow and the fire and the cool and everything. glasses, they say. so you come home and accidentally hear a blackbird sing

love? ah!!! doesn't change anything? no. the bells still ring. and when you ran down this hill, freely, loudly, happily, you will go back to the same old doors and same old keys and the same old sun.

but the light inbetween, says the blackbird, maybe i should ask again, is like love. it sheds a different life and light on everything. ha. like construction workers sitting on the construction scaffolds (the wooden stuff that they build around the house to get up there) with their first cigarette in the morning look different and so heart breakingly beautiful in this inbetween light although their work is hard and maybe their lives difficult.
maybe someone divorced. maybe someones kid is sick. maybe someone drinks alcohol for all the salary and his wife is bitter and no sex or love. but
in this light ...
that s like love says the blackbird, maybe i should ask again, maybe i didn't understand.
it doesn't change anything says the thunderstorm-crushed-minute-yesterday that pretends to be tomorrow too and if it is very successful it will tell you too, that it is the NOW as well. haha! but it didn't see that that's the point.
the same old routine in the light of love unfolds its beauty

now

never later, when you look again

spitting out decisions to laugh at the result

So I have this whole makeover of my life in my head right now.
What to do or not to do is the question, ladys and gentlemen!

HA! But how funny it is...When I say something just for the sake of hearing how it sounds and then let destiny giggle it's ass off, looking at silly me, changing from nothing to one.

So there is this idea of not continuing coming to MI. How I am not enough into guitar and guitar only but more of an artistic melange and it doesn't really seem like I should pile up any more debts for the sake of learning some more scales or styles or whatever or life playing experience, when I am apparently not so much into it after all...like, I don't freaking practice until 4 AM, until my finger bleed!
No! I lay in my room, look into the greenblue sunkissed evening sky and think about multi art performances, putting dance, theater, music, art, whatever! together.

I guess, I have to just freaking face it: THAT'S me. As much as I WISH I was a female Hendrix, I am NOT. Duh. How annoying.

But as soon as I spit all those thoughts out in a very nice conversation with a common friend of my love and mine, I went to this live playing workship, reaggae, and freaking enjoyed it SO MUCH. And am all thrilled to play more guitar now. HAHA. It's like life wants to freaking mindfuck me.

Thank you.

PS I will never learn how to spell raggae (reggae?) right

relationships, churches and solitudes

so, I can't understand myself, I feel like trying to catch up with my crazy mind constantly. VERY VERY VERY comforting and nice though to have a constant emotional BASE, from which, don't get me wrong, the weirdest fluctuations of a woman's heart grow like curls on my boyfriends head, but yeah, at least, I tell myself in the evening hours when I look into the greenblue sunkissed sky, at least I have something to smile and then roll over like a happy little wild child when I think of my LOVE. That's nice, eh?! It's not like our minds are united like there were not differences...No! NO! It's still like dancing a damn tight-rope walk, but, hey, I practiced doing that back in our school circus for a reason, right!!!?

Rainer Maria Rilke, a famous German poet apparently, as I learned today, said something really great in one of his poems (which one exactly I will research later and let you know!). In fact, it made me so happy, that I started jumping around on my chair during class and couldn't stop marveling at this beautiful sentence, constantly thinking of how I would love to tell my sweet love what he said:

To love (or so it goes...I just quote from my fickle memory, so forgive me!) ok, so to love means to be the guardian of your lover's solitude.

That's when you realize, that in the end human beings are essentially alone. But that doesn't mean, they have to be lonely. If you respect the other person's solitude instead of wanting to want to have him/her, you guard the space that is his/her own to BE.

It's a beautiful thing to think about. Being alone is so DIFFERENT now, being in love. It is like a church in a way. When you are in a field you have all the space above you without an end to it, but when you are in a church, the building creates a vessel in which the space becomes apparent. It protects and defines and creates the sense of space, because it puts a relation to it to your own physical limitedness. And the cool thing is, within this limitedness you (well I do at least) experience an inner movement of opening up, it helps to implode so to say and find the infinte space through the point. AH, I am expressing myself so clumsely. How annoying.

What I mean is, churches are not necessary to connect to God, but they are a beautiful way of helping to do so. Your soul can open up because of the definition of the physical space. Ah.

So to bring this complicated and unnecessarily elaborate Jayjay-comparison to a conclusion I should say, that I think that being in a relationship that is based on love has a similar effect: It restricts the inner space physically. It restricts the multitude of opportunities and paths and possibilities that present themselves to us every second. And IN THIS RESTRICTION we find a different depth and sensefulness within ourselves, as for example, when I am alone somewhere now, or even in a crowd, as my love appropriately put it, I experience a DIFFERENT quality and a different kind of connection to myself and God through this restriction.

And by ackonwledging the individuality of the beloved you understand that you got to guard the space within, like a church does. Ah. Or sO!!!! excuse my confused and unconcice putting of thought...

who the fuck should i trust with my songs anyways

You know?
I thought, wow, next quarter I am gonna take this artist development class, I'd have to bring one or two songs every week and work them over with a singer/songwriter dude/dudessa. I thought, that would make me finally sit down and pin them down those freaking fleeting ideas!!!

But screw that!!! Who the fuck should I trust with my songs anyways? what about the good old gut feeling? I never believed really in that school stuff anyways. For technique - great!But otherwise???

I just realized today in songwriting class, that there are two things I should acknowledge: I should stop excusing myself and avoiding writing songs like the plague, and I should NOT work with a person on my songs that tries to help me to make them more accesible or streamlined or more senseful for the sake of an audience. Wait, somebody might say now, its not about that. It's about how you could improve the craft of songwriting!

Duh. That's for sure, I shouldn't excuse myself and be lazy, but I also shouldn't make backflips just for the sake of doing backflips. When will I realize, that I won't get into that no matter how much outer strutctures would force me to? What about taking myself seriously and jumping over that damn shadow and just writing songs for whatever reason I have written songs alwyas???!!!!!

I DON'T like writing songs over, I am not like Leonhard Cohen, who worked on Halleluja for a year. I am a Dylan person, of course I am NOT a female Bob Dylan, Lord, no! but what I mean to say is, I write a song of the top of my head, in like ten minutes, and if its not good, screw it! Next song!!!

Okay. so maybe I SHOULD work on them after all. But by myself or with whoever I happen to work with. Not with someone who will maybe, in the worst case, help me write popsongs. Beware...

Ah. Ah. Ah.!!!!!! I'm just writing that to convince myself...I 'm apparently not too sure myself whether I should believe myself or not.

seed

One look in the eye is actually enough.
Of course, there are a lot of surprises out there. For example, when my teacher back in grammar school picked up this really boring, grey, dirty, rough stone, split it in half and showed us the violet christalls inside.

Now that I think of this image I might even go further and say: actually no surprises. I think that the eyes ARE the christals. Your outer appearance doesn't really really mean anything in the conventional way of thinking at least. But your eyes do. The saying that eyes are the window to the soul holds a lot of truth I feel.

I looked into her eye and I knew ever since I saw her the first time, that we would become friends. It is weird but very true. For example, this other girl looked interesting to me and we became 'friends' in a more superficial way, I had the best of intentions but life just showed that there is nothing deep to it.

But with her, there was something from the first time we met and I was cool with it. I didn't pursue a friendship with her, talking to her or anything, I knew and then let it just happen. I guess that's how I've found most of my friends outside my immediate surrounding back home. I just let it happen but most of the time I would know in advance, from one glance.

She is so beautiful. And now we are in a working group together in our singer songwriter's class and her silence speaks louder than anyone else in this room to me. Her smile, her eyes, her energy. It's a seed, a feeling, a potential, maybe it will unfold itself, maybe it will go past us like so many things in life. But one thing I know: She is a friend. And could be one for life, or at least, for a long period of time, as long as it would be important in our lives...

The same thing happened to me with T. I saw her in front of the school, sad I like her style of dressing and the second time we met we jumped into each other's arms. We JUST KNEW. It's so weird, but it's simply like that.

Also with K. He and I knew from the first time we took time to really see the other person and talk, that we'd be good friends. In a sense that is OUTSIDE the box. you know, it doesn't actually matter in this case whether or not we'd do a lot together or talk to each other frequently. The point is, that when we do, IT MATTERS. every and each time.

seeds.

huge halls with parquet floor

huge halls with parquet floor, big windowscreens.
somebody said we used to sit down and drink hot chocolate and wine together. his mom came in the room, with flowers, no, she doesn't drink, she said, ain't that right?
her eyes piercing, i decide to be honest: I used to drink a little, but I don't anymore.
Well, she says, that's what you get now and locks the cupboards. I suppose they contain alcohol, my love is feeling uncomfortable...
I am cooking, and this since a while. I keep asking him, do you want Pastrami? Do you want Pastrami? Finally he answers, all concentrated on his mom, no, I already get some. It feels weird, even in the dream. I mumble something like 'funny, huh, now you have two women cook for you...' In my pan there is eggs, some bread and I add Mozarella. It melts away like butter.
In this moment his dad comes by, gives him a huge hug, I see it from the corner of my eyes, don't really dare to look.
what a devastating woman you have to work with he says warmly and devastating is apparently a really positive word, as he likes me, and what the heck, I mean, it 's a dream, so anything can mean anything.
there are other people, that i know, but I don't remember. Whether or not. What I remember are the

parquet floors, huge, two huge halls. And I see myself dancing through them, art installations, making music....

I turn to my love and say: we should ask your Mom, whether she was serious that we could have this place. And I shake my head in disbelief as to how freaking ridiculously huge this place is.

And I am cooking...

stream of consciesness

The sun kisses the morning like a lover who hasn’t seen his beloved one for a decade.
Like in a foggy autumn song the rest of the world slowly disappears on the horizon.
Long forgotten dreams of sailing ships and stunningly huge whales that display a grace of a ballet dancer in the water go back to sleep.
French accordions and blurred visions of a bohemian life style try to stretch and fill up the space within. Let me out, they beg, let me out but the sun has long decided to go on a race with the moon which she will never win.
Slow down screams the crow that is sitting on the windowsill. A cold breeze reveals the truth behind the sunny illusions of a sweet Californian morning. Slow down.
I’ve had it says the squirrel and chases his friends away. Drumbeats fill me up now from the toes to my bouncing head. I have loved and I will always.
Even though you might not like it, I am the moon.

lay lady lay

I am not used to have a constant critic except for this mean petty one in my own head.
It's just an idea that popped into my head but it deserves some exploration and consideration.
If I really think about it... It's kind of rediculous, but this moment in which my German and History teacher put me down in front of the whole class after I held a report on the Cashmir conflict in India and Pakistan was really one of the most outstanding experiences in my entire school career. I mean, I wouldn't remember it that clearly and vividly otherwise, would I? The point was, that he said that someone with my IQ should have delivered a report of an entirely different format. I know that this sounds really akward and absurd in a way, but I knew what he meant. It's a fact that I tried to deny but have to come to accept, that I have talents and that having talents also brings along some responsibility to use them right.

I FUCKING hate that. But that's maybe why I pretended and felt really stupid during those last years. When I just think of the year in the college. I was so good at feeling stupid and unintellectual and untalented in academic terms.

People get so freaking easily impressed. And it's so freaking easy to feed off that impression you make, this sparkeling magical amazing energy. Maybe I am just an old jealous bitch, maybe I am jealous of my beloved sister who isn't afraid of being so amazing and magical and mysteriously awesome as she is, in fact. When she visited me in Berlin at my college she took me aside and told me, hey, you shouldn't put yourself down all the time in front of your friends. There is nothing wrong with being talented and colorful like you are. You make them feel stupid when you do that.
She was right, dude, I either should have hid everything away or not put myself down otherwise. Acrobatics, painting, fireswinging, singing, organizing, partying, loving, all these things... I displayed them freely.

Music.
I can't write songs because the critic in my head is too strong.
That's so fucking vain and stupid if you ask me. This has to stop!

So lets get back to the point: This one time in school when my history teacher critized me I was positively surprised. I loved that. But , here 's the point, he was a CONSTRUCTIVE critic. He told me and let me know that he believes in me being able to do better.

The prof's in my college didn't really care maybe. They maybe just didn't know I could do better. I knew. I had to prove it to myself, locking myself up for almost a week, writing an essay that actually meant something to me and I got an A+ for it minus the plus acutally, becuase i was late. But who freaking cares. I didn't.

Now I am with my love and he critizes me a lot. And it sucks. I want someone next to me, who encourages me and brings me up instead of down. But wait, I am wrong about that, lately he started encouraging and complementing me on my music (which the critic in my head thinks is absolutely ridiculous and weird and undeserved) .... and so here it goes, the idea that popped into my head, while listening to Bob Dylan:

Maybe I am just not used to having a constant critic. And maybe that's exactly what i was looking for. Nobody said that you won't feel like running away once you found what you were looking for.

But oh it is so difficult to live with a critic. But then again, working out is always healthy (to some extend I know I know) and maybe that's just a work out for me, yeah and maybe also to give the critic in my head a little vacation..


I LOVE YOU DANY

Mr. Wonderful

I stole that title from introspectre (www.introspectre.blogspot.com) to be honest...

But it is so most suitable for my current situation :)

I justed wanted to say. ahhh, shout it out into the blogosphere and all my friends who maybe happen to check back with me on this blog...
: My lover, my love, my 'gypsy' is the most wonderful person on this entire planet of mine!!!!

He is, indeed, Mr. Wonderful in my universe and yesterday night as I was falling asleep it crossed my mind like the thousandst time that I am such

such

such

a

lucky

girl

girlfriend

you are such a good girlfriend he said.

and i know he really meant it. i don't write that down here to show off or shed a good light on yours truly, nope, it is a little bit more complicated than that. the point is, that ever since i have had crushes on boys I felt that there is this HUGE love inside of me, that I've always kind of been afraid, it would overwhelm or crush the beloved one and would turn them away from me. I don't know, maybe that's why I always told them off and plunged into 'good cause' projects during my early teenage years, living this love in a way that wouldn't hurt anybody. I remember sitting on a meadow in my home village one day, I think I was 15 or 16 or so and went through an essential sense-of-life-crisis, I had my piano scores with me and jotted my thoughts down on the backside and cried and sobbed and cried and cried and cried and it felt like I couldn't ever stop.
The pressure was big, my teachers and my mom and sometimes also my dad would tell me stuff like 'G, you have big tasks waiting out there for you. you can really make a difference, you have so many assets you can do it lalalalala'.
the problem was, I really felt I wanted to do something, too. I loved and still love this world to death. I love human beings in all their beauty and misery, I love animals and plants and trees and rocks and oceans and mountains and clouds and thunderstorms.

But I didn't want any of this. In actuality I expected a lot from myself too, but in the end I was longing out for shared love, like any of us. And it was so hard to accept that I couldn't have it. Me having a boyfriend was just - out of the question in a way.

This is one of the reasons why I was so desperately sad when things didn't work out with my ex in Berlin last year. I really wanted to love but, yeah, I guess we all learn at some point that you can't make yourself fall in love like that at all. My sister claims it is possible but I can't do it.

I was a horrible girlfriend, honestly, I was such a jerk. I was cute maybe, but that's old news. I wasn't a good girlfriend, period. And maybe that was one of the most disappointing and disillusioning things to happen to me then.

Because I always somehow felt that I would be the BEST girlfriend on the earth, I would say to myself silently when i was in love with someone but didn't dare to show, 'he's such a jerk, he doesn't see me, I would be the best girlfriend he ever had and will ever have' but of course the respective boy wouldn't hear my thoughts at all. Dah.

Well anyways, to bring this to an end, the fact that my love told me that shows me one very very important thing: I am really REALLY IN LOVE this time. this is the love I was hoping and waiting for all this time. And I wasn't wrong maybe after all, about my feeling that I would be a good girlfriend.....

It s just that I love this guy way way way way way way much. He's the best boyfriend and best man and best friend and person in my life.

limbo

it is so terrible to be in limbo
and see in the mirror
all the things
delayed
delayed
delayed
like a freaked out echo haunting you
in a bad dream

aww.

teenage ghosts revisited

it is such a drag to be a teenager. i don't know about boys, but for girls, i don't know. there are a FEW girls who don't experience the whole media worsened dilemma 'i'm too fat' and everybody knows how much it sucks to here that from someone. it's like, come on, give me a break.
i went through this whole thing too, and as I am just a big girl kind of, I am tall and have broad shoulders and wrists (compared to my sister at least) I just felt always too heavy and tall and big and fat although I had a real athletic body back in the days. Which brings me to the next point: i am bigger now than back then but i've been quite happy with myself since quite a while. I just don't weigh myself anymore as neurotically as I did back then (like every time I went into the bathroom i hopped on the scale. tzn tzn) and I don't look at myself with too much of an critical eye anymore, when I look into the mirror.
being intimate with guys though brings in every girl this teenager up again, and although we try more or less successfully to control and monitor that annoying bitch within ourselves it can be at times more than annoying.

especially when you think about how fucking absolutely unneccessary those worries are. dude, there are people DYING out there. just get over it already!

but I think every woman on this planet who is actually in the luxurious position to worry about bullshit like that will agree with me: upcoming period worsens it. hormons to prevent pregnancy often worsen it.

it s like 'i am such a fat cow'. at times.

at times

follow up

it was this morning...
she left and the sun was shining
and the palm trees were sweet like always so blue in the sky
and ..
she left..
but i dried my tears now and in this moment, when we were there, it was so weird how aware I became of all the precious moments together... these were the good old days right there wifie!!!

so here the follow up to the last poem that i wrote apparently...

you lose track of me
and then you bark
like an angry small dog
and frown your teeth
while i'm trying
to find the keys and get back in.
feeling sick
like an old radio -
switch the light on

you look like a warrior
in your pretty tourquoiseteors
and your lips
and your hair
and your fingertips
and your flaming into the sky.



and to be honest, i have no idea, or wait, i do, it was about the dude you lived with klodi, you know who! i mean the first part of the poem......

unknown poetry

Today
my 'wife' sent me poetry she said she thought I might want to read...
and at the very bottom of the various poems
I started laughing
like crazy
and I laughed and I cried
and remembered this morning
when she left back home to Albania
us sitting at the peaceful morning sun pool
I was jotting some thoughts on a napkin
and gave it to her before she left
and I guess
this unknown poetry
might be
by
me... lol


one example: (rest will follow)

the water in the pool
fears the glamour of shimmer
and the palm trees whisper
sweet nithings
into the wind
So as to tell the sky
That they are, still, unwillingly
after all,
despite it all
in love .