Sunday, October 29, 2017

An ordinary day in the life of a cat owner

Last night I was playing with Sasha (the usual: I run around the house dragging something long and flexible on the floor and she chases it; in this case it was a belt made of fabric from one of my mom's old dresses) and Sasha got “into the zone” meaning that she freaked out and jumped two feet high off the floor with her four paws stretched out. It was hilarious. It was so funny that an hour later, as I was already in bed with a book, I remembered the whole scene and started laughing aloud. I laughed and laughed until tears came to my eyes and I pictured myself at that moment: alone, tucked in bed and laughing like mad and that made me laugh even harder. Sasha was so intrigued by my behavior that she jumped on the bed and hit me on the nose with her paw as if saying “Are you alright, human?” At that point I almost choked with laughter.

Sasha is my cat. I brought her home on July 13th. She's 5 months old now. And although since then I haven't had a proper rest it is also true that for the past three months I laughed more than for the past three years.





Saturday, September 09, 2017

On love

In the book I’m currently reading there's a conversation between the protagonist, a man with a sceptical attitude to religion, and his friend - a Catholic priest; and they discuss what hell is. I am an atheist through and through but to my surprise I totally agree with the priest's vision of hell:


“ - Hell is to be without love. To be without hope. Hell is to be alone in a place where time never ends, the clock never stops ticking but the hands never move…


- I like to be alone. There's nothing I prefer more. To be alone in the mountains with my paints…


- That is not alone! You are merely without human company. But the butterflies you paint are with you, the trees and insects, birds. God. Whether you acknowledge Him or not. To be alone is to be in a void. Without even memory. Memories are a great weapon against solitude. Even the memory of love can be salvation…


The memory of love can save us all from hell.”


I can't help remembering Natural Born Killers and Mickey's words: “Only love can beat the demon.” 

It got me thinking that I don't necessarily need love but I need the idea of love, that it is essential to me to know that there's such a thing as love. Somehow that's enough. 

Wednesday, July 05, 2017

A night to remember

3-07-2017, Plovdiv Roman Theater, Placebo, “20 years of Placebo"


I have to write something about the concert but words don't come. Why? Why do words fail me about one of the most amazing nights of my life? And amazing it was, all the way, and unforgettable, and I didn't want it to end, ever. What is it about that band that makes me feel that way? I don't know. It's a mystery.


I remember the first time I heard Placebo. It was “Pure morning”, and it was like nothing I've heard and seen before. Until then I didn't know that I had a taste for bizarre aesthetic controversy. It wasn't just different, it was my kind of different.


“A friend in need's a friend indeed"


I had no idea that I needed such friends until I realized that a piece I didn't know was missing found its place. It brought comfort and alleviation, it worked as a healing patch for the hidden bruises.


20 years. It's hard to believe isn't it?


OK, Brian mistakenly addressed the crowd with “Sofia” (instead of Plovdiv). Twice. Some people made quite a fuss about it. I couldn't care less. I was there, they were there, it was pure magic; period. Magic is rare, it doesn't come to you every day so when it does I feel grateful, blessed and special to have been a part of it. Just like now.


There's a special place in my heart for Placebo and nothing will change that. There are 20 years behind to prove it.

What is it about that band that makes me feel that way? I don't know. It's a mystery.








A few pictures from Plovdiv






Sunday, June 11, 2017

#pareidolia

It's​ a word, and it means "a psychological phenomenon of seeing faces in everyday objects". Who knew?

I took a picture of a trash container and, what do you know, it looks like a face:



Monday, May 29, 2017

Sign of the cat

This morning a black cat crossed my path meaning that today is going to be either really, really bad or really, really good. Most likely it will be somewhere in between – as usual.

Saturday, May 27, 2017

In the next episode of "Surviver"

Another week lost in bashing my head into walls. Every weekend I climb the stairs to inner peace only to slip fast back to ground zero on Monday morning. "Practice makes perfect"? Oh, please. It's no wonder that for the past month I listen exclusively to Nine Inch Nails with the eagerness of a drowning​man fighting for breath. 

Wednesday, May 24, 2017

Going!

OMG! Lisa Gerrard, in my hometown, only two weeks away from now! And I'm going :)



"Something isn't sitting right"

Today is a bank holiday and I'm disturbingly happy not to be at work.

To say that I am demotivated would be a huge understatement.