Burnin---' S.u.n. f.l.o.w.e.R

ocean of shifting symmetries. butter fly by me
parallel realities, scorching desert sands, infested by collapsing rains
that sprout that rose of truth
among all those grains of sands
lost in time
lost where I was, with you
all those pages we’ve written for one another...... are quickly tucked underneath our covers. excited we forget, sink into blue waters of yellow dreams, and by the morning our childish desires renewed with a fresh steam. I keep the flame of writing alive, by feeding the fire my work, for the passion to exist and burn within the dark eyes of night. Where it goes after ashes blend with sand....i do not know. But what I know is they always return.
these pages, stories me and you blush upon, eye's widen, and all matter of heart suddenly becomes serious….shall we tango, to the song we have written and forgot to sing? The walk we have stripped of pride and ego we emasculated with a smile, spinning all into a glorious dance of laughter and forgetting. unanswered by the strangest stranger of all things strange. arrange my steps. trapeze down paved paths we call streets by names mispronounced, on lonely continents....their plates shifting, hands of lands intertwining, beneath the surface of off things that seem.
Twin to my soul. You walk not to far behind. I am not always aware you’re there....its the credit you are teaching me to take, without doubting what’s mine, is already yours.
She snuggles into my shoulder, and releases all passions, left victims of their own burning flame of power, resting like yellow seeds, against the black petals ......of a gloriously.....burning .......sun-flower.

S.P.L.I.T S

Noun: The physical structure of a person or an animal, including the bones, flesh, and organs.
Verb: Give material form to something abstract. 

"Athletic Dance"- To bend and break your physical body….held by your bones, masked by your flesh and operated by your organs….into structures rhythmical movement of thought forms that give rise to some epiphany of compound emotion down the road of your life's purpose that you carve for yourself second by second in your abstract mind. And in the midst of questioning….does the mind make sense of the body, does the body make sense of the mind…. or is everything you think, not a reaction of actual thought but flesh.
"You're cold hearted." I might say….But no!! its actually my heart that's cold when i think of you. Okay….but what about her? She's hot….smouldering in blood and agony that can never choose between short term pain…or long term pleasure. In competition with oneself. What a sight! To gain some ground on your own battle field, and gain a loss that will never be forgiven.
The battle is over. The sight you longed to see in vanishing beneath the sea swelling in your eyes, like time running, sprinting through your fingers. Into a hat of folded paper with answers to all that is more to come. The shores are calm once more. The sea in breathing. Your eyes fly open and blink to see the sun blinking back at you in pure delight.
Its a new day. Its a new morning. I hop out of bed. Out of some reminiscing desert of blood and sand of a dream now a mere speck of dark depth, growing shallower, being pulled into the distance without the minds interruption. I swing my leg up backwards to to kiss my Achilles, and arch into the interior city of splendid doll. A bad dream cannot erase my need to remember, Cool....I've still got it all!

"It is death sweetly bluish, like non-being. Because nonbeing is an infinite emptiness and empty space is blue, and there is nothing more beautiful and more soothing than blue. Not at all by chance did Novalis, the poet of death, love blue and search for nothing else in his journey’s.The voyage of variations leads into the other infinitude, into the infinite diversity of the interior world lying hidden in all things." - Milan Kundera


Without weight, there is no color there is no radiation, rainbow or variety, temperature, emotion, height or its symmetrical depth. Memories and people attached to them loosen and loosen shape, loose importance, influence & communication with your soul, therefore your soul looses direction, nostalgia evaporates, steam releasing anxiety and disorder. What you were/are once, will not matter twice. The mountains, meadows, sunrises, the stench of lavender on my shoulder from sleeping upon rows and rows of smiling flowers........ and hurricanes of streaming fabrics of warring colors, russian poets lost in duels for love, their poetry, my pottery, his cat, her blue tongue, and even the color orange...even the color orange blends with the rivers of galaxies emptying into vacant pools of ink. Collecting stars, shimmering into throbbing white clusters -----all smooth out onto one plane, of 2 dimensional simplicity. take the canvas, and put it out in front of you. Now try to find your fears? Your doubts? Your sadness? Your shame? Your pain? Your game? Your loss? Your scar? Your cigarette tar? ..........Elements of hatred towards yourself? Memories and yearnings. Dreams distorting perception and the seconds in your life you spent caring about becoming someone other than who you already are, those seconds of bending over backwards into negative infinity. Where are they! Show me!.........do “they” even exist....who are you? Where are you?..... Or are we all just lying hidden in all things, swimming in an ocean of blue electricity, living inside a resonating seashell..... like a mollusk... where every whispered word, and thought calling to our attention, reverberates, swells, into multiple unending echoes, rebounding only off of ourselves, and the protection we have built around us, believing we are all that exists......Growing into our belief’s. All wanting to be different. All wanting to be crazy. All wanting to be beautiful and talented. But afraid to stick out our tiny little heads into the abyss, holding on with our lives to the floating bubbles. Of thought, Of shell, Of disappointment. Of the concreteness of being this and that......abstract. we live. All afraid to be eaten, by what we belief in most. Ourselves.

The.Way.Me.Drug.Me

CONT'D

“Wait! What do you mean it has left? You just called us!" Montreal demands, hands flailing in disbelief, her last breathe handing on shedding chord.

“Boarding time was over a minute ago” say’s Warsaw

This is when you realize that someone is playing a joke on you. Toronto is thinking to herself

“A minute ago?!" screeches Montreal

“Yes! A minute ago. You two lady’s were sitting there chatting for the last 15 minutes. You had enough time to get up and board your plane!” spites back Warsaw with pompous vulgarity.

“But where are we to go now?” asks Toronto, her passport in hand now violently shaking from 'fear.'

“Up there” Warsaw points lazily with one finger at the Marriott rising above the airport. Its purpose for being built, now growing more obvious by the second.

Toronto looks at the Marriott and realizes for the first time how close her dream of staying a few extra days in Warsaw was to becoming true. “Life plays jokes. But actors play out the fun dialogue.”

Montreal has had enough. “Stop with this bullshit! and Stop the plane! Now!

Warsaw’s ego shrunk to the size of a pea, and scrambled to make phone calls and stop the plane immediately! Montreal was standing there with one fist on her hip, and Toronto as usual with the biggest smile on her face. The doors that were permanently closed to us, only a few seconds ago, were not swinging open, and sucking us into their vortex of motion and commotion. That....annnnnd.....my kidney’s just dumped a generous donation of Adrenaline into my nervous system!


It took those 2 stubborn ego’s guarding the “forbidden” door exactly one second to open it, 2 seconds to dial the plane, 3 second to reach an available shuttle boy and 4 seconds to mutter their last words of regret for doing so! And that lady’s and gentleman is how 10 seconds can change your life, and the debt on your Visa. Im telling you now, I have never seen a NO switch so quickly to a rampant YES! One second it was ‘please check into the nearest hotel’, the next second we were running down 3 flights of stairs with bags in hand, were literally tossed into the shuttle, and burst out into hysterical laughter every time were almost scraped the belly of a plane and were thrown to the front of the bus.

But truly....the “Royal” moment was when we watched the long white shiny stairs being attached to the plane once more, just for us, so we could hurry up and seat our little inattentive a**’s down! And remember all those people that were “starting to get antsy, pushing, pulling, name calling, bugging each other in line, kindergarten style??!” well we got to see them all !!! Neatly sitting in rows, their faces burning with disapproval as we got the honors of walking all the way to the back of the plane, not missing a single glare......or occasional smiles...and winks....and lustful gulps too! ;)

So instead of booking into a Marriott and rebooking our flights. We were now comfortably seated in a metallic bird that was ready for take off to the Black Sea. But when I sat down, I couldn’t stop thinking about all the happened. My heart was beating through my chest. My feet with jumping as if ready to break out into a dance, or run an marathon. I had been drugged by my own body, with a drug that’s used for “fight of flight” purposes. The plane was already zooming on the runway and then it hit me! “We had to fight to catch our flight!” What perfect sense it all makes. The crazy interconnectedness of life’s spirit! What a wicked nature!



I pulled out my Ipod. And just as the metallic bird lost contact with the earth. Celia Cruz's voice smoothed over my jitters with one wave . A woman whose voice I probably recognized before my own. A truth I knew, before I could speak. And this truth was...is...and will always BE for those who believe, search, laugh, and play with the light of night, and dark of day that life...mi vida.....tu vida.......su vida.....nos vida......La Vida Es Un Carnaval

The. Way. We .Drug. Me

"Whenever we sense danger or confrontation-be it real or imaginary- our adrenal glands situated on the kidneys release a mixture of chemicals commonly known as ADRENALINE.When something unpleasant happens that -we don't expect- adrenaline is dumped into the bloodstream in one go so that we enter a type of "overdrive state". It is our misinterpretation of our body's natural defense mechanism that confuses adrenaline with fear. If we look at the dictionary definition of fear we find fear to be 'A feeling of distress, apprehension, or alarm caused by impending danger, pain, etc.' , we have been brought up to think of fear as something tangible, as something experienced by weak people when in fact fear is only a description of the symptoms of adrenal release. 
We are often told that if we have these feelings it is a sign that we are scared and weak when in reality we are becoming Fassster, Stronggggger, Pain Resistant and EXPLOSIVE!!!!"


My journey to Ukraine began with Eva Green. A week before my departure I rediscovered the eccentrically serious and extraordinarily self confidant French actress, who began her career with a magical performance in Bertolucci's controversial 2003 film, The Dreamers. A tale of incest, cruelty, erotic conflict and teenage experimentation,set against the background of 1968 Paris student riots. The film being fueled with psychological games revolving around the three characters obsession with Nouvella Vague Cinema, provided an opportunity for each scene to be sculpted in favor of elucidating a moment in art history. I knew the film had reached its artistic peak, the moment Isabelle (Eva) resurfaced from the shower with nothing more than a bath robe around her waist, her arms cut off from her flesh as if she were made of stone,hidden by a dark pair of satin gloves in mergence with a black background, stoically standing at the door way, portraying the famous Greek statue of Venus de Milo.


A hectic week of making deadlines, celebrations, and “packing-time” followed, leaving little time to further my new fascination with the actress. But....’Because I Believe everything in life is timed to the second, everything in my life BECOMES timed to the second....because of my belief in life! (Belief->Faith->Becomes->Through Time...) Anywayyyys....on a short stop to purchasing a few european power adapters before going through customs, I spotted the girl who I’ve been meaning to speak to for over a week now (geeez!), squished between Ms.Vogue, and Marie Claire on June’s cover of BAZAAR,
there she was waiting in WHITE HEAT miss eva green! Truly destiny. I boarded the plane feeling great at the prospect of finally having eight empty hours ahead of me- first in many many months. I pulled Eva out, put her on my lap, and there she was posing in an Yves Saint Laurent silk crepe dress, her marble arm gentle resting on the cascading mane of a resting lion. Avant garde ain’t avant enough! I read the first line of her interview “I gave birth to myself yesterday.” That was it! I’de had enough of convincing myself she didn’t exist! I finally found her! The psychotic twisted dark existential wandering artistic soul twin I was always abstractly in search for. Though really.......did i find you?....or you find me? nah.....we just kinda met. ;)


Speaking with Eva is like jumping from one iceberg of tangents to the next. Her thoughts are slippery, sliding, moving from right to left foot. Humor balanced, lightly joking about her lack of sanity when making important life decisions, interspersed with occasional burst of dark humor. Temperature of speech hot, hard, erratic, one moment solid and clear like a block of ice, the next vapor! shifting between states of matter, matter of importance, importance of time, need, emotion, and sensitivity towards all aspects of progressive self.

I don’t know weather it was the bold mindedness, or absentmindedness.....or the sugar rush i got from both eva and the mini bowl of Sour Keys i devoured before landing, but I was feeling quite invincible. When I touched down in Warsaw, an hour wait in line followed to scan the luggage before being able to board the next plane to Odessa. I noticed a thought kept on creeping back to me, one I had created back home, “Wouldn’t it be.....kinda...maybe...sorta...worth staying an extra day or two to explore a piece of Poland before doing Ukraine for the next month.” Hmmm. Always worth paying attention to those thoughts that seem to run by your radar far to quickly. My mother told me there was no plane leaving the following day. So I let it go.

During the hour wait -all of us being on connection flights- people were starting to get antsy, pushing, pulling, name calling, budding each other in line, kindergarten style. Closer to the front of the line I met an older woman, that was on the same connection flight as I, so I thought that if I stick with her, I would have a lower chance of missing my plane, and a higher chance of finding it to begin with! We walked through without any problems, found our gate, they weren’t boarding yet, so we grabbed a seat on the side....and “nachili baltatt” began to talk. She was also from Canada, ukr-born, living in Montreal with her son. We kept on talking talking periodically looking over to check when boarding would starting, continued talking and then mid sentence she hears her name being announced. We guess they were doing final boarding calls. Pick up our bags. Grateful and happy we walk to the gate, pull out our passports, and come face to face with 2 woman who had something rather important to tell us......

“Boarding time over. Plane has left the gate.”



TO BE CONT'D

Always Enjoy.

Why can't I hit my egg against the table?

.......or mix the wet dough I am stirring in a counter-clockwise direction, or openly smile to myself when I am walking down the street, or cross the road without believing that someone will actually run me over and drive away..y?y?y?..because I am in Ukraine!!!

The land of old culture, superstitions, little laws, little penalty's, wild party's, home made Samohonka, half built churches, stables that turn into kindergarden centre's, old trees that resemble monsters, slutty girls who write beautiful prose, well kept braids, summer parade's, parades of food food food and relatives relatives relatives! It is impossible to construct a sentence.....if you want to truly describe a ukrainian experience...without having the the words, food( fed) by crazy (relatives) and drunk(lots of drinking) in between family stories of emotional substance. This isn't a vacation, so don't bother "trying" to forget your problems and worry's, because here you will be reminded of Who you are. Where you came from.....and in rare cases Where you are going, by people who have known you......for your ever. (forever)

Heading back to Ukraine is like heading back to the birth of my soul's landscape. To a place where I had existed before I was even conscious of my existence. I have always been so curious, like those scientist that attempt to calculate that strange substance that existed before The Big Bang, the birth of our universe, but really a birth in general ....down to the seconds! What i've always known....is that i've always been on my way to coming back. Lucky me, the summer before university, the commencement of a new chapter in my life, like the foreword before a Novel, I have returned, only to learn, I never left.

In a way it's like entering the laboratory where you were created. Who created me...well.....the dear parents that sent me back to the laboratory instead of having to explain it themselves. Those are the big facts. The big evidence. But what about the little things like..." Who named you?" For me is was my father, about a week after I was born, driving me and my new earth mother home from the hospital for the first time to our home in L'viv, my grandmother posed a very smart question. ' Well....what are we going to name her?" My father replied Nastya (Anastassia), before my mother could say Julia.....and so she became....who named her first. :)

When I am back home, I am busy with getting ahead in life. Figuring out what I want, going easy, going hard, going with the flow, or stopping, and changing direction. Its all about movement....not so much about the object that is moving. Aka. The Mover. Everyone has a deeper nature. A nature that has ability's innate to the creature it governs. It is very rare to be given A TIME to slow down your pace.... A PLACE to take in your surroundings AND PEOPLE to reintroduce you to yourself. Listening to stories and flipping through sewn together photo albums of: my grandmother, her brother's, their wives, their lives, their children, my mother, her father, my grandfather, his father, their father, my father, me and my brothers, our lives, their lives...ETC. made me realize how much we're all sewn into one other's destiny.

When I came here I did not know anyone I was about to meet. My mother finds it tedious to explain who everybody is, i found this attitude very shallow at first, she always told me "One day you'll go and you'll see" ( in a very long drawn out, go away voice. :P) Well now I am here and I see, and it's because "everybody" means...a lot of interesting "US" that is not easy to sum up in words alone. No residual "uhhhhs!" at my mother. I understand her now.

But many residual "uhhhhhs!" at myself. I should have stuck to writing when I was here. So I m reopening my blog! More to come.

Always Enjoy ;)