This is a post meant to awe and shock NZers. I would normally have a strong and negative emotional reaction to all the cold whiteness presented below, but all my energy is currently being taken up by my chattering teeth and shivering muscles.
We have had the heaviest winter in many, many years. I haven't seen so much snow since my childhood! Which would be a good thing, except the stuff just won't stop falling from the sky and I have to shovel it four times a day. And the nostril-sticking cold ranging between -22 and -8 C is a wonderful bonus. Oh, and, do you remember my frozen lock? It's now a daily occurrence.
However, winter seemed bearable (and almost pretty, but don't tell them I cracked!) last Saturday, when I and some friends went for a walk on the river. And I mean on the river. It's frozen solid.
So solid, in fact, that some people were driving their cars on the ice. Others, less adventurous, were playing hockey or skiing. We had planned to walk until the ice gave way to water, but after 3 hours, there was no sign of that happening. Wise as we are, we realised it would probably take us the same amount of time to walk back home, so we turned back.
We saw a lot of animals on the way (foxes, pheasants, heaps of deer), as well as animal tracks. This might have been a very cold bunny:
You have to appreciate the care deer put in respecting each others' personal space. Everybody gets the exact same amount:
When I was back in the relative comfort of my relatively warm house, I thought of you guys again. You might never know the sheer, unadulterated bliss of being able to fold your hands around a cup of mulled wine after an entire day in the snow. But that's okay; you have the ocean. And feijoas. And that more than makes up for it.
As the weather gets ever gloomier and nothing terribly exciting goes on in my life of late, I find myself daydreaming of last summer. And as all films (films of memories included) should have appropriate soundtracks , I tried to imagine what soundtrack my last summer would have had. That got me thinking of all the music, new or familiar, that I got to experience this past year. Hence this retrospective post.
So, what would the soundtrack of 2011 be?
Well, my birthdays are always medieval, so the soundtrack of my 30th birthday would have to be Holloenek, newly discovered medieval band from Hungary. They were fun just like that day was fun.
Soon it was August and it was time for the Artmania festival in Sibiu: 3 days a year of pure artistic, architectural, gastronomic and, of course, musical bliss. And oh, what a city!
In the morning, I had my breakfast in the courtyard of this
to the tune of Lacuna Coil's sound check, and in the evening I blew bubbles with Morti under the obscure light of this,
to the tune of our own laughter (just like back then...) and at night I experienced the much expected annual catharsis, under the shadow of this,
while, on stage, Tony Kakko did his power (metal) walk,
Tarja Turunen did exactly what was expected of her (namely, to blow everybody's minds),
and Lacuna Coil left me breathless with unexpected awe:
But Sibiu had other artistic surprises in store for me, too. A tattoo festival was taking place at the same time with Artmania, and the special guest there was this delicate, beautiful, incredibly expressive Japanese dancer, whose traditional dance left quite an impression in my memory.
But the summer progressed, and there was no time to waste. The Peninsula festival, in our very own Tg Mures, brought Guano Apes, which I will remember as being utterly forgettable,
and the Hungarians from Tankcsapda, whose lyrics I do not understand, but who were so much more fun to watch and listen to:
I usually don't need much of an excuse to visit Sibiu, but at the end of August, it had a damn good reason to call me again. The medieval festival was a bland, dusty, badly organised affair, which made me waste a whole day in the scorching sun, without offering anything interesting to do or see. But they brought Corvus Corax in the evening, and that made it all worth the sunburn. I didn't know much about them, but that night, I left as a die-hard fan. The self-proclaimed kings of medieval music really lived up to their title.
I could go on for another couple of pages telling
you why I think Corvus Corax are so epic, but I'll just go on to what
was the highlight of 2011 for me. Finally, after years of yearning
and bad timing and failed attempts, finally, in November, I got to
see Amorphis. With all the excitement, I forgot to charge the
batteries in my camera, so all I have as proof of a great concert is
this:
In conclusion, the winners of the Soundtrack for
2011 award? It would have to be a tie between Amorphis, for their
emotional significance in my life, and Corvus Corax, for their sheer
newly discovered awesomeness. As such, feel free to pick the one you
prefer:
Lately, more and more of the people I know who are of "marriageable age" are very reluctant to do it. Not because my generation has any more commitment issues than the previous ones, but because the traditional way of getting married is becoming unacceptable for most.
The extreme public exposure, the many embarrassing customs, the extreme pressure of having to do everything just right or else people will talk, the awkwardness of having to kiss over 100 people you don't know are enough to put even the most extroverted among us off a traditional, parent-imposed wedding. Oh, and the religious directives...don't even get me started on those!
Which is why our friends' wedding this weekend was a breath of fresh air. Spontaneous, sketchy, relaxed and very rock'n'roll. An example to follow.
First, there was the civil ceremony. Giggles, jokes, teary-eyed parents, all standard fare.
Then the less-than-standard fare: a live gig with a cover band consisting of 4 insanely talented young guys.
We were thrilled with their skill, they were thrilled at our response. I see a great future for these guys.
Then, in a matter of minutes, it was out of fancy clothes, into the usual gear and off to the mountains, where the party continued until the sun came up. There was gulyas...
... there was a camp fire,
...there was plenty of booze...and the rest is history. Which will remain unrecorded. For the sake of our reputations.
However unsteady and light-sensitive we felt the next morning, the glorious autumn sun made it impossible to stay indoors. So off we went on Mr. & Mrs. Coman's first hike as a married couple.
It was also little Cody's first hike ever (he did very well, except he didn't see much of the scenery, as he was asleep the whole time).
Everybody had a whale of a time (or a sheep-dog of a time, to be in
keeping with the monsters that attacked us at one point of the hike), and I'm sure that everyone made mental notes of how things will be done at their own weddings, inspired by our friends' choices. This wedding weekend was so relaxed, personalised, fun and original that it has surely become a trend-setter.
Good job, Mircea & Laura! May your life together be nothing but a succession of weekends like this one! And thanks for the pictures :)
There's something magical about the light in September. It has a unique way of making the usual seem warmer, calmer, more enchanting. It adds a new glowing dimension even to things that were beautiful before.
We've had many such honey-coloured days this September. And last Sunday's spontaneous outing to Cheile Turzii proved to be brilliantly (un)planned on just such a day.
Getting there bright and early, we had the paths all to ourselves while we leisurely walked the length of the gorge.
Trying to find a nice wall to climb was only a tough job because there are so many! In such beautiful spots!
But by the time the noisy tourists came and filled the gorge, we were already hanging by our fingertips high above them.
It was a great day in all respects. But it seems that someone before us wasn't so lucky...
And just to convince you of the magical properties of September's sunlight, here is another gratuitous forest shot:
