This is all

I've got for today. One phone photo of a frozen pond.

And they say

that art doesn't matter and that nobody is interested.

There goes the neighbourhood

But at least it got a decent send-off.

Poetry

on the floor.

It's cold

and I have nowhere to go.
This photo reminds me of the photos they used to show us in newspapers and on television when they were trying to say: 'Look how poorly people are treated in other countries.' And they would show you a picture of somebody freezing on a pavement in New York, or somebody covered in snow in the centre of Moscow. Those were the winter images of course. In summer they would show us pictures of starving Africans, with their bloated bellies. But always showing them together with the subtext: this is how it is elsewhere, but you are lucky enough to live in our wonderful country where the state will take care of you, so there is no need to fear. Well guess what? This is a common sight here now.

1984

We all knew it would come. But we let the thought rattle somewhere deep down in the small hidden storage room just off centre of the labyrinth at the back of our mind. We hoped against hope that it would come some time later. That it will not affect us. Or our children (I know that was stretching it a bit). Slowly they poisoned our minds. Throwing us a bone (usually made in China) every now and then, just to keep us happy. Making us focus on what we thought was making us happy, and forget about the things that matter. The real things. Like having rights. Equal rights. Being able to express our thoughts. Or feelings (if we still had any left). Exchange ideas. And make them count. Inspire each other. Support each other.

We all knew the time would come. That we would be controlled and stripped of our rights. But how many of us realised we were living the nightmare already?
(Hats off to George Orwell)

Wait here

Behind the barbed wire fence. And wait. For the dogs. For the guards. For the men with guns. For the shouting. To be deported. For the end. Of it all.
Before you go, look up. Into the windows. You might see a face. Wondering. Half smiling. A person standing in the warm room. Looking down on you.
Establish eye contact. Do not look down. Maybe you get a cup of hot tea. Or just the recognition you are still human.

Conquered

Mont Drums.

Hidding

behind the red nose can be great fun, but it can also just hide the tears.

Whose side are you on?

and Do you still love me? were the two questions asked.
Do you need to ask? came the reply. (Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, playing their word tennis game, sort of drifted through my mind).
(In my great expeditionary polar stumble through Ljubljana night life I came across To whom it may concern, Barely Modern and Kill it Kid)

Seen the play

photographed the poster. My version of seen the film, bought the T-shirt. I went to see this Brecht's play but did not get the opportunity to photograph it, so over a week later, while walking through the building I saw the poster through some railings and thought: That adds something to the whole idea (and I also immediately thought - as the play is all about corruption - that I could think of a few people in high places that could currently be locked behind bars - so that just added to my fun).

The pensive drummer

And somedays

your brain breaks down or needs defragmenting, or you just realise that it was no good to start off with, or you just feel a bit down (nothing quite beats the British understatement) and you have no better ideas than posting an Andy Warhol rip-off just because the event was called everybody talk about pop music and you can not think of anything more poppish to do than do a quick Andy impression.

Sleep walking

in search of fresh white snow...

And he is back...

and he is still having fun. and entertaining us.

I went back

to the time when I read (and was) Adrian Mole while watching this performance.

The Thinker

You wake up and realise that something is not quite as it should be. You feel a bit off colour, even though it is a nice and sunny day (albeit it is bloody freezing). The cars that one day decided to drive up and down your street all day long produce way too much noise and smog to let you think. So you step out from your flat. And you are happy you can manage it. Because you remember how it used to be. You remember when everywhere outside you flat was charted as Therebedragons territory. And you are happy you have got an flat to step out from. And you wonder how long will you still have it. When will the country eat up whatever money was left in the child’s piggybank and the bank will kick you out of your home? And the country will spend all of your hard earned money on a few people you wouldn’t even know you need if you weren’t told so. And the bank will do the same. It will give all your money to somebody you never knew was there, somebody whose function you cannot understand, someone who seems to have millions but needs more. But, those are thoughts for another day. For now you know that you are safe for the next month or two... And by then, who knows what might happen.
So you step out. And up. Towards the sky. To find some peace. Amongst the birds. Let the blue sky reflect your blue thoughts. You sit down. On the edge. You find that your mind is clearer when on the edge. The closer to the edge, the sharper your mind. It is sharpest when nothing obstructs your gaze. All you can see is air. One long freefalling drop. Just like the first drop on a roller coaster ride. Let's face it - life is a roller coaster ride. You go up, up, up, and then down, and up again and down and up and down. But you never get back as high as you were the first time. It is always slightly lower, and you go slightly slower. Until the ups become nothing more than merely bumps in the ride. And the downs, well, they just seem to hover lifelessly in the pits, waiting to grab you by your ankle and pull you underground. And then you stop, and step off. Leave the planet, and say hello darkness.
Once more, that is a thought for another day. Today you just want to figure out where are you in life and where do you want to be. And you wonder why are the two so far apart. And will you ever get to where you want to be? What would it take to get there? Will you be lucky? One of the few who could do what they wanted? Or will you be one in the sea of bodies that just repeat the motion. Day in, day out. No satisfaction, but surviving and multiplying somewhere along the way.
Again, I digress. Today, all I really wanted to think about is what was behind that cute girl’s smile as she looked me in my eyes the other night.

Who is next?

And what is going to happen to him? Or is it going to be her? Should we panic? Now? Why? Why not?
(and where is his guitar?)

One

for all of my Finnish friends.

p.s. Remember what the Monthy Python's used to say:

Finland, Finland, Finland
The country where I want to be
Pony trekking or camping
Or just watching TV
Finland, Finland, Finland
It's the country for me

You're so near to Russia
So far from Japan
Quite a long way from Cairo
Lots of miles from Vietnam

Finland, Finland, Finland
The country where I want to be
Eating breakfast or dinner
Or snack lunch in the hall
Finland, Finland, Finland
Finland has it all

You're so sadly neglected
And often ignored
A poor second to Belgium
When going abroad

Finland, Finland, Finland
The country where I quite want to be
Your mountains so lofty
Your treetops so tall
Finland, Finland, Finland
Finland has it all

Finland, Finland, Finland
The country where I quite want to be
Your mountains so lofty
Your treetops so tall
Finland, Finland, Finland
Finland has it all

Finland has it all

Don't ask

why French is the language of love, just listen to it.
(is this winter turning me into a soppy softy ?)

Made me think

of you :)

Cheers

says Dale Watson.
Took some other good pictures today... If you want to see them see Dale Watson, the warm up band Eight Bomb (which did exactly what they should have done and got us all in the mood)... and before that I went to a 99% event.
,

Sitting back

and getting sucked into a psychedelic palm tree movie

What makes people happy

in most cases is escaping reality and finding themselves in a dream world, a world they can construct in any way they see fit. In a way we all want to do it, it is just that some are more successful than others and some even manage to construct the world of their dreams in the real world. However, they only manage this at the expense of others. At the expense of you, me, the little boy chasing the ball across the road, the little girl playing with Ken in the garden (they just don’t know it yet), all the dead who perished for the mighty dollar and all the zombified souls working in the fluorescent lighted coalmines of today, pretending to be free in this brave new world.

Walking inside

your mind. I wonder what it is...

Riding the train

into the sunset. Don't really care where it takes me, as long as it takes me away. Into the unknown. Towards happiness. Away from here. Away from the misery. Away from the troubled mind. Away from the void. Into your arms. Away from the worries. Away from the crushed bodies. Away from the broken spirits...
And I get sucked into the bright sun.

Do you see everything red?

Or is it just me?

Do you remember your first time?

Hiding

in the great blackness. You know the feeling. When you feel small. And the world seems huge. Way too big for you to take in. And this only makes you feel even smaller. Smaller than the ant you just walked by. Smaller than the microbe you just coughed out. You are too vulnerable to look this shiny day in the eyes. And much to vulnerable to be seen by anybody else.

So you stumble around the darkness until you find a corner. You sit down. You wait for it to pass. You wait for the blackness to disintegrate. To eat itself from within. You wait for the bright light to stop shining into your eyes. To disperse itself across the universe. You wait for your thoughts to calm down. For them to take the long, winding and scenic route. You just sit there, waiting. For the special something. For the special someone. For the special moment. For the special smell. For the special feeling. For the calm thoughts. (Crap, none of these ever come, do they?)

(For more photos from a photo packed day see Myth and Svinje)

Attention to detail

When surrounded by chaos, you just need to refocus by concentrating on the detail.

Sitting

at the commands of the time machine and waiting for warp speed to kick in and take you to another place, another time, another dimension.

You'd have to

be crazy not to go for a walk in this kind of weather.

The only way

is up, baby,
for you and me now
(Yazz)
Hold me by my hand and the sky is our limit

Fool on the hill

(as the Beatles would say) Not! (as Wayne would say)

Makuc

in Cankarjev Dom. And his birds... In all forms and sizes.

Dance

and not too many words wasted.

Family get together

The first one in the new year. And me without my camera.

Not quite winter

but the snow is trying to get in there.

My blog is going to hospital

and behind this round opening it is. I think I found myself a bit stuck... or just low on energy... or thinking about a new concept. I have had this blog for just over two years (25 months) and in this time I have posted 707 entries. When I started it off the only idea I had was that I will post 1 photo every day. Of course I wanted them to be as good as possible. And I wanted them to improve. And, of course, as any blogger, I wanted people to read my posts or at least look at the photos ... Well, so far I have managed to post a photo on most days, even though there were some when I didn't post anything. There were one or two days I just posted a little text. There were a few days I felt like breaking my own rule and I posted more than a single photo (oh, I do like to live dangerously) and it seems like people do look at my blog. I can see the blog counter telling me so, and surprisingly I get stopped in the streets by people who say they read it, or look at the photos, and usually this happens just when I start to think nobody is really looking at it, so what's the point? I don’t know. What is the point? I just like taking photographs. I also like to write. I like sharing. And I also like... oh well, this one would get to personal so I will skip it...
Anyway. I am thinking of changing my blog to some sort of a different format and I am looking for new ideas... well I am not looking very actively, because I seem to be taking a bit of a breather at the moment, but I would welcome any suggestions from all of you who follow this blog (or from at least a few of you)... I guess in the end I might just have a little bit of a breather and continue with the blog as it is, but evolution never killed anybody, did it? (Well except for the obvious ones, like the Neanderthals, the Dodo, Mammoths, and the millions of others....). So anyway, if you have an idea, tell me.

Long, winding road

I wonder where it leads to? So, youwhotakemybreathaway, do you want to go and explore with me?