Lia Soleil

7:38 PM!

The Vlad Astrophysicist

Thank you TomTom!

A December Night

It was a December night in New York City. I was walking in the crowded streets as if I knew where to go. Unknown faces, unknown places. My steps were like the ticks of the time. Tick... tock... tick... tock... I was seeing the first fall of the snowflakes.

2013-2005

From 5GNOW presentation by Gerhard Wunder.

Öpücükler

İyi ki varsınız!

Rice Pudding or Macaroni Gratin?

"... Like, when something happens, whether it's a big event that affects the whole society or something small and personal, people talk about it like, "Oh, well, of course, that happened because such and such" and most of the time people agree and say, like, "Oh, sure, i see," but i just don't get it. "A is like this, so that's why B happened." I mean, that doesn't explain anything. It is like when you put instant rice pudding mix in a bowl in the microwave and push the button, and you take the cover off when it rings, and there you've got rice pudding. I mean, what happens in between the time when you push the switch and when the microwave rings? You can't tell what's going on under the cover. Maybe the instant rice pudding first turns into macaroni gratin in the darkness when nobody's looking and only then turns back into rice pudding. We think it's only natural to get rice pudding after we put rice pudding mix in the microwave and the bell rings, but to me that's just a presumption. I would be kind of relieved if, every once in a while, after you put rice pudding mix in the microwave and it rang and you opened the top, you got macaroni gratin. I suppose I'd be shocked, of course, but i don't know, i think i'd be kind of relieved too. Or at least I think I wouldn't be so upset, because that would feel, in some ways, a whole lot more real."

A nice complain from May Kasahara :)

May Kasahara's Point of View - The Wind-up Bird Chronicle, H. Marukami,

Witnesses

The photos of "Ballast Point" are like the pieces from different dreams. How many times did i go there just to take a breath? Sometimes at midnight, sometimes in the morning. I was looking at the calmness of the see, the coolness of the birds, and the patience of the fishermen. I was going there to see the dock as if checking it stays there or not. ...and of course you! :) Ballast Point was always a good place to think of someone.

One day, we went to a restaurant nearby. It was a promise. We ordered more than what we can eat! Yes, you remember!.... :) After the dinner, while we were trying to find the dock, both of you were kidding with me when i was trying to describe the "dock". I was saying "bridge' instead of "dock". Then, we all start to say "bridge" :) I got the importance of being fool :)

One day, three of us met again at the same restaurant. We were meeting for my graduation. To be honest, I was not feeling good. I never liked the taste of leaving. It was not a perfect meeting. When i was going home, i saw your car. You were not going your home... You were heading to the "bridge". You remember? It was rainy. It was night.

One day, i was there at night. You approached me. You asked for the photos i took. I showed them to you. To be honest, i was hesitating to talk with you... You told me, there was a moon eclipse at the dawn and your daughter was there to take its photos. It was surprising for me... Later, i was planning to bring some cookies to you. I know fishing makes the tummy hungry! But, this stayed as only a wish.

One day, you and your son were collecting crabs on the shore for the fishes. While you were looking for fish baits, we told about Middle East and the sharks...It was the time i found a golf ball on the shore.

One day, you told me that you were there and enjoying the sunset with your daughter. You sent me a photo of the beautiful clouds... I confess I was there at that time. But, it was not a good time to see you. I said there was a florist on the corner. I left.

One day, we went there to eat some fish. It was the time that she spilled the water on the table accidentally. Do you remember? :) I always liked the way you talk about the food. It makes me smile as i have never experienced before! You talk, i will watch you, agreed? :) ...and then I realized what i really want. Not at that time, but later.

One day, we were there together. The rain was striking the surface of sea. You told me you remember the drawing of your sister... a frame with silence, a frame without the ticks of the time.

One day, i decided to leave Tampa for a place that i couldn't put my intention. At that time, I was there on the "bridge".

One day, you got a gift. It was a postcard. Actually, it was a printout from Walmart :) It was showing a scene from the Ballast Point. If you get one of these printouts, know that it was you! You were the dearest! You were there with me... and we were witnessing to the beautiful memories.

Do not stand at my grave and weep

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I do not sleep.

Mary Elizabeth Frye

Cheek to Cheek

The Nightfly

Thanks AliG! :)

Rain and Umbrella

When the rain strikes the surface of the sea, the umbrella becomes the magic in the gray. There, the time is relieved from its continuous sorrow and we stay young forever.

Batu'm

I am just a lucky so and so

Music

"As you are well aware," the man continued, his voice soft but penetrating, "in the course of life we experience many kinds of pain. Pains of the body and pains of the heart. I know I have experienced pain in many different forms in my life, and I'm sure you have too. In most cases, though, I am sure you've found it very difficult to convey the truth of that pain to another person: to explain it in words. People say that only they themselves can understand the pain they are feeling. But is this true? I for one do not believe that it is. If, before our eyes, we see someone who is truly suffering, we do sometimes feel his suffering and pain as our own. This is the power of empathy. Am I making myself clear?"

He broke off and looked around the room once again.

"The reason that people sing songs for other people is because they want to have the power to arouse empathy, to break free of the narrow shell of the self and share their pain and joy with others. This is not an easy thing to do, of course. And so tonight, as a kind of experiment. I want you to experience a simpler, more physical kind of empathy."

Everyone in the place was hushed now, all eyes fixed on the stage. Amid the silence, the man stared off into space, as if to insert a pause or to reach a state of mental concentration. Then, without a word, he held his left hand over the lighted candle. Little by little, he brought the palm closer and closer to the flame. Someone in the audience made a sound like a sigh or a moan. You could see the tip of the flame burning the man's palm. You could almost hear the sizzle of the flesh. A woman released a hard little scream. Everyone else just watched in frozen horror. The man endured the pain, his face distorted in agony. What the hell was this? Why did he have to do such a stupid, senseless thing? I felt my mouth doing dry. After five and six second of this, he slowly removed his hand from the flame and set the dish with the candle in it on the floor. Then, he clasped his hand together, the right and left palms pressed against each other.

"As you have seen tonight, ladies and gentlemen, pain can actually burn a person's flesh," said the man. His voice sounded exactly as it had earlier: quiet, steady, cool. No trace of suffering remained on his face. Indeed, it had been replaced by a faint smile. "And the pain that must have been there, you have been able to feel as if it were your own. That is the power of empathy."

The man slowly parted his clasped hands. From between them he  produced a thin red scarf, which he opened for all to see. Then he stretched his palms out toward the audience. There were no burns at all. A moment of silence followed, and then people expressed their relief in wild applause. The lights came up and the chatter of vice replaced the tension that filled the room. As if whole thing had never happened, the man put his guitar into the case, stepped down from the stage, and disappeared.

The Wind-up Bird Chronicle, H. Marukami

Interminable Distances

"The woman down there had no mind, she had only strong arms, a warm heart and a fertile belly. He wondered how many children she had given birth to. It might easily be fifteen. She had had her momentary flowering, a year, perhaps, of wildrose beauty, and then she had suddenly swollen like a fertilised fruit and grown hard red and coarse, and then her life had been laundering, scrubbing, darning, cooking, sweeping polishing, mending, scrubbing, laundering, first for children, then for grandchildren, over thirty unbroken years. At the end of it she was still singing. The mystical reverence that he felt for her was somehow mixed up with the aspect of the pale, cloudless sky, stretching away behind the chimney pots into interminable distances. It was curious to think that the sky was the same for everybody, in Eurosia or Eastasia as well as here. And the people under the sky were also very much the same - everywhere, all over the world, hundreds of thousands of millions of people just like this, people ignorant of one another's existence, held apart by walls of hatred and lies, and yet almost exactly the same - people who had never learned to think by who were storing up in their hearts and bellies and muscles the power that would one day overturn the world."

Nineteen Eighty-Four, George Orwell

Footprints

Moonshadows

Those were the times that we didn't know where to go.
Those were the times that the silence descended on us.
Those were the times that we prayed for each of us.

The Infinity

The phrase "a long story" brought to mind a tall stake in the desert, where nothing else stood as far as the eye could see. As the sun began to sink, the shadow of the stake grew longer and longer, until its tip was too far away to be seen by the naked eye.

The Wind-up Bird Chronicle, H. Marukami

EmmaLuna

Emma Luna and Laura!

Sunset at Clearwater!