Tell me your story

It’s been five years now since I started to be a storyteller. And maybe I should begin with Eva Rufo, but I think the story looks different.

 

Here it goes.

When I was a kid my mother used to bring me to her church group meetings, it was based on reading Bible together and re-telling it and, consequently, re-telling the story of your life and your daily struggles. So I was listening to these adults for hours, almost every week. This is how I was taught the patience of listening because, naturally, in listening my mom or grandmother reading aloud stories, hundreds of stories I could only find pleasure. And also every Sunday my family used to gather right after breakfast to read the Bible and re-tell our interpretation. I was not allowed to leave the room until I re-told my story.

 

Now I don’t read Bible any more and I’m not close to any religion at all. When I was 19 I met Eva and, as most of people that meet her, I was under a huge impression of her style, her stories and her energy. I got trapped by the Cuentacuentos (Storytelling) and here I am, in Sweden, in a small town in the forests ready to tell some stories together with two of my friends who have never done it before. People ask, what’s that? What’s storytelling? What for? I will answer, of course, with

tell me your story.

1Q84

Last winter I spent with Paul Auster. This spring belongs to Haruki Murakami. Entirely.

I came across this guy at Martha’s house some years ago and I did not really like it. Everything seemed quite flat; personalities, female personalities,  feelings, protagonists needs and descriptions. A little bit gloomy as well. Now I’m living a kind of double life because, dangerously, I stay in these Japanese worlds feeling comfortable, feeling understood. Mr Hurakami, congratulations.

Maybe it’s the language problem, as usual. I didn’t like the Polish version (not saying it was bad, as so far I learnt myself around 10 Japanese basic signs), but the one that are speaking to me are English and Swedish ones. Typical.

Right now I’m with 1Q84. And as before I was a little bit anxious about the females in Murakami’s novels, here women seem stronger and real. Of course, there exist weak women! Everywhere. What I’m saying is that there exist too many weak women in worldwide literature, thing that makes you swear while reading over and over the power of female weakness and which makes you think it’s okay to hang one’s head.

And this all is happening in my little, springish town in Sweden, which I will leave soon. And it’s totally okay. Sayonara, as they say. Enjoy the pictures.

How old are you?

The air smells rain,

Nothing is in vain.

The street smells rain,

The head smells writing.

 

The year I became 25 I got my Master degree and it didn’t change much, not that I’d expected. The day I graduated I bought a cello and it felt so good to take the train to Gdynia and play Bach suite at the cliffs of Saint Maksymilian, facing the Baltic Sea (the only thing I was able to miss when abroad). The sea, seagulls, and cello, without having experienced that before, I was convinced of that perfect combination. And it was indeed. I knew the suite G-dur by heart, facing the waves and greyish sky, I played it. When finished, I saw a silhouette of a young man with long blond hair strolling along the shore. I called him then Marek on the shore but he didn’t realize I was there, I was not born for him yet, he hasn’t met my mother yet. He hasn’t given up on his dreams yet. And so on.

No, I didn’t apply for any job, instead I booked some tickets. Lucky you said my friends that decided to start their careers in Reuters. I could leave Europe, mum was happy with her chickens, I cleaned my room, I gave out the clothes to charity, I installed proper shelves and signed all the books. Julian was getting calmer, not ridiculously happy, but calmer, it must have been the continent, he got a warm welcoming, everyone loved him here, and even the possibility of publishing the book was rising somewhere up there on the horizon. Perhaps quitting alcohol made most good to him. Who knows.

Playing Bach suites in front of the sea became a sort of a habit, I also took the cello with me to Japan and I shook my head several times at the unbelievable feeling of co-playing surroundings while performing in Fukushima. The place was full of volunteers, strange smells, timidly raising grass and reporters. I think they all appreciated my awkward sounds. Nikado even said write me a letter when you play it in Tokyo, I’m wondering how it sounds out there. I like letters, I wrote that letter. (Nikado was an Arts teacher in his advanced thirties, in love with Woolf and Miró.)

Okay, when I was 25 I knew the silly decade of university was gone and from now on everything was about serious decisions like not to get insane or to pursue your inner instincts or how not to get scared if you haven’t bought the flat yet. I believed in the new decade. The next quarter, the quarter nr 2 as we used to call it with Martha, the quarter when/where everything was possible but in another way. That was another youth. A brand new youth. Oh, the hope, the anxiety of the new coming, we love you so much. Stay with us.

(taken from You must be kidding me, B. Sz.)

Spring in Sweden

Something amazing is happening in Sweden right now, a beautiful waking up of Spring!

Learning: Icelandic & Japanese

Eating: Thai, Pies, Beer, juicy & fresh sallads

Riding: my bike

Enjoying: Hello Sandwich (a very cool blog about Japan)

Playing: to-do & to-learn lists

 

Have a nice day! Loves.

Bad behaviour

I’m behaving badly, I know. I don’t post a word about my life recently and that’s because… I LIVE! I’m working on my lists going, plans & haunting for sun in the centre of Sweden.

And heading to the earth of volcanos soon! loves. X

Being 24 etc

I’m 24! This is a great age and I’m going to be even younger every day from now on.

Folks, this is my life, tragedies, heart breaks mixed with jolly good moments, psycho creatures around and good, the best people next to me. So, naturally, last week was full of surprises of this kind. But I’m so strong, not metaphorically, for real,  the yoga year that started in January is keeping me on a right track and I feel as strong as Popeye (yes, old times, childhood stolen in Hamburg). This post is not about me sitting and crying, this post is about me crazy about Naoko Ogigami, the japanese director of such movies as Rentaneko and Megane. We started the romance yesterday, so I just watched these two. I also bought some nice japanese noodles. And nice japanese sauce. And, oh, please, let me pin next country to my wishlist!

Check these movies out and call me for a sushi in the town! ^_^ Ha en verkligen bra vecka!

Naturalność seksualna

Fajnie jest na przykład wypożyczać z biblioteki książki znanych lesbijek i nie otrzymać wymownych spojrzeń. Fajnie, że heteroseksualni Szwedzi czytają takie książki, bo chcą poszerzyć horyzonty. Fajnie, że i ja czuję, że to coś normalnego, nie boję się familijnego oskarżenia, że coś ze mną nie tak. NORMALNOŚĆ SEKSUALNA.

 

Varför vara lycklig när du kan vara normal? (Why to be happy when you can be normal?) by Jeanette Winterson

 

 

Nie chce mi się już gadać o tym co się dzieje w Polsce w związku z prawami dla osób homoseksualnych. Nie chce mi się myśleć nad przyszłością tego kraju i chociaż powinno mnie cieszyć, że nabliższe mi osoby nie mają kaszki w mózgu, to nie cieszy, bo wiem, że to nie brak pracy nas prędzej czy później z kraju wywali, ale właśnie takie zacofanie umysłowe masy posiadającej jedyną i słuszną prawdę. Najsłuszniejszą. Ludzie, seriously, co Wam dodają do płatków śniadaniowych? Peace, love & work.