It’s almost October, you’re walking down the street in short sleeves and short pants, basking in the sun, enjoying the heat, peace, palm trees, flowers, blue skies. A SUV stops at the intersection, Dr. Dre’s “California Love” blasting out of his car. A guy on the bicycle passes by and sings from the top of his lungs: “Californ-i-a!”
Yes, that’s when you LOVE it.
OK, so three weeks ago, I’ve officially moved to Los Angeles. It is not that I wanted to live in Los Angeles. Or work in movies. I fell in love. With a man who wants to live n Los Angeles. And works in movies. Life has its own plans.
For a European, USA is…. let me be diplomatic here…. strange enough. But Los Angeles is like landing on a different planet. You are happy there (still) are traces of water and atmosphere so you won’t immediately die. But to survive here you might need other things. Among others: a job in the industry, at least one part of your body inserted with silicone or chemically treated, a pair of UGGs and (the quintessential): a car.
Speaking of which… Today, I felt especially courageous and rebellious (and hungry) and I dared LA – I decided to walk to the supermarket. Ha! Try that. We (still) live in a very tame and charming part of Hollywood (yes, I really live in Hollywood now. I’ve exchanged Laudonplace for those nine big white letters on the horizon) called Larchmont Village. Larchnomt is like Wisteria Lane with a Mexican touch, smaller houses and truly amazing gardens. Superb lawns, colorful flowers, palm trees. But no people. I’ve lived here for three weeks (including my last stay that would make six weeks in total) but I still haven’t found out where people are. They work alright. But don’t they ever drive to work, come home or pick their kids from school? I don’t know. The only time I see someone is a (very) random person walking the dog. Or even more random joggers who decide to surprisingly drop on the pavement and start doing push ups and stretches in front of you. Weird ritual.
It took me 13 minutes to walk to the supermarket. 13 more back. It was 18h, what should be the busiest time of the day. 26 minutes passing through the residential area during rush hour and I met one old woman. And one weird jogger who looked like a mixture of Brad Pitt and Steve Taylor.
Walking through LA is really a strange experience. You know that you are in one of the biggest cities in the world. You can feel the energy of the millions of people. You can hear the deep hum of the metropolis. You can smell the shit. But there’s no one around. Until you reach a busier street where you see people in their cars (there is always one (1) person in the car here. Wonder if there’s a special law for that) who stare at you in sheer amazement. A pedestrian!? The amazement was even bigger as I was returning from the supermarket, carrying those two white plastic bags. Because if you’re just walking, there’s still a chance you’re doing it because your healer/nutritionist/chiropractic recommended it. But if you’re carrying bags, it is clear that you are doing it (walking) for practical purposes, to get from point A to point B. And do errands somewhere in between. Practical is not a comprehensive term in this country/city if it does not include some kind of an environment-poisonig machine.
There was something very romantic about the walk home though. I walked through those charming Wisteria-meets-Mexico lanes and the drivers’ stares made me very aware of the two plastic bags of groceries I was carrying. I remembered my childhood in Zagreb. Around 16h, the city was swarmed with women returning home from work (they started at 08:00) each one carrying two white bags of groceries. I remembered standing at the balcony and watching my beautiful mum walking home with one white bag in each hand. I became homesick. But then I turned my head to the left and saw the Hollywood sign up on the hills. And the clash of those two things – these white letters and those white bags from the past – made it better. I am here to explore. By foot.
I took the picture and didn’t think much of it. Only a few minutes later, as I was leaving Central Park, it occurred to me. I’ve just witnessed Bruegel. Even better, I’ve just witnessed life. At its most glorious manifestation.
One by Peter Bruegel, the other by Ana Tajder. A man. A woman. Netherlands, United States. One in 16th century, the other in 21st. 500 years apart. Continents apart. Identical.
How persistent is true joy of life? And how simple! It just is. Must love it.
Sitting with Nic in metro, going downtown and looking at a poster advertising the “Bodies” exhibition, commenting how horrible the idea is of showing dead bodies playing volleyball.
Nic:”And what’s even worse – do you know where the bodies come from?”
Ana (blonde): “No”
Nic: “They’re Chinese dissidents.”
Ana (blonde): “OMG. That is horrible. And how did they get 2 million Chinese dissidents in one show?”
Nic: ” They can’t have 2 million bodies there. Where did you get the number from?”
Ana (blonde): “There, on the poster.”
Nic: “Where?”
Ana (blonde): “Big red letters.”
Nic: “That’s a phone number.”
Well, how embarrassing (and stupid) is that!?
So, if you want to go see dead bodies of Chinese dissidents in NY, dial 1.800.000.BODIES
And don’t be disappointed with how few corpses there are!
Today in the morning, the cleaning lady in my office showed me pictures from a wedding in a small village somewhere in Serbia she had just returned from. A very amusing experience.
Cleaning lady: “This is me and this is my husband, my son, daughter, cousin, mother of the bride….”
Ana: “Oh, mother of the bride looks young!”
Cleaning lady: “Yea, she’s 37 – got married with 16.”
Ana: silent shock (Aaaaaaaa, if the bride was 1 year younger I would be mother of the bride!!!!!! I cannot possibly be mother of the bride!!!!!! Even worse – I could already be a grandmother!!!)
What a nice way to start a week.
I hope you had a better one.
I am very honored to announce that yesterday (on my birthday), I have received the “Staatsstipendium für Literatur 2010/2011″ from the Austrian ministry of culture. This does not only mean one year of financial security to finish my 3rd book, but is also a fantastic acknowledgment of my writing.
“Important to become less interesting. To talk less, repeat more, save thinking for writing.”
Susan Sontag
Thank you to Oliver (who knows me so well) for the cartoon. For more, go to: www.geekculture.com
No clue what happened here.
A block. Fear?
Club 2 happened and I started writing for www.zib21.com where my posts were very well read but also heavily discussed. It is new to me that my writing and my opinions are being widely discussed. It is great. But also a bit frightening. It is like all those people are trying to get into your most intimate sphere, your brain. I’ll get used to it. I guess.
And before I start bitching about the topic that obsesses me for past days (all huge crisis happen when I’m ill and locked at home so I have enough time to get well informed. About how bad things really are) – GREECE, I want to concentrate on something more beautiful. Food for the soul.
In one of the past Spiegel (German weekly political magazine), there is an interview with a lady called Swetlana Geier. Mrs Geier is 87. When she was 65, she stared translating Dostoevsky’s 5 master pieces, so called “5 Elephants”. Those new translations are apparently so fantastic that they won numerous prizes. A film about Mr. Geier just got released: “Die Frau mit 5 Elefanten”. The film is currently playing in Austrian cinemas. Here some incredible passages from the interview:
About different rhythms of life
She is talking about “crime and Punishment” which is written in a very fats rhythm, in presto. In the last paragraph of the book, a word is being repeated: “postepenny”, gradually. A slow word. She says: “Life goes gradually. If one hasn’t learned anything else after having read this book, this was enough. Violence is fast and sudden. Life goes gradually.”
About the physicality of translating (or any other work)
Her German teacher taught her to lift her nose while translating. “You don’t translate like a caterpillar eating its way through a leaf. You translate the sentence from a flight of a bird. It is about the whole.“ (Isn’t everything?)
About the language
She is explaining why she is dictating her translations and not writing them down: “Language doesn’t depend on paper. Language lives in the air and it lives from the air. Even that what has been written by some human being at some point – even “Faust” by Goethe or a Pushkin text – originated in imagination. This is why I don’t want to primarily see a new text, but to say it.”
About time and the divine consciousness
“”Suddenly” means that a realization is limited. You don’t know that behind you there is a big spider walking above your head. We know only that what we see, and that what we don’t see happens to us suddenly. It is a dimension of a mundane human being dependent on his senses. We know little, we hear little, we divine nothing. But there is a consciousness that has no “suddenly”, the divine consciousness. And it is incredibly interesting, that in “Crime and Punishment”, which talks about the limited perception of humans, Dostoevsky uses the word “suddenly” so often.”
Jay Kay’s Magic
Sunday, July 25th, 2010I’m in love with Jay Kay since the first time I’ve seen him. This was at a cashiers’ desk of Zielpunkt (Austrian discount grocery store) in 1993. God only knows what his first CD was doing in that shop….
I fell even deeper in love when I saw him perform for the first time in 2002. He was like a ball of energy bouncing (in the coolest dance moves since Astaire and Jackson) from one side of the stage to the other. I calmed down a bit after I met him the same night – in person he was quiet, shy and … smoked-up. Plus – his accent made the conversation very difficult.
Last night, I’ve seen Jamiroquai perform again. Many things have changed in those eight years but one thing stayed same – I’m still in love. Last night was special because it was extremely fulfilling to see how lives and circumstances change. For the better.
Jay Kay: He calmed down. He is still incredibly energetic. He still electrifies the audience. But now it seems a bit more… not controlled but…. careful. What he used to do on stage was pure self-destruction. It was of course extremely gratifying to the audience but it was not sustainable in the long term. Especially not without drugs. On one side, as a fan, this “calmer version” makes me a bit sad. On the other side, as a woman in love
it makes me happy to see that he will not bleed out on the stage just to fill the voids in our lives. He managed to perform a very fine balancing act of preserving his energy without seeming controlled or withheld. That’s what makes a great artist! Bravo Jay Kay!
Ana: I found myself! In 2002 after the concert, and especially after meeting Jay Kay and the band and hearing about their lives of rock stars, I was very sad about my life of a “Special Project Manager” at a mobile network provider. Compared to life of creating, performing, sharing energy with people, energizing your audience, travelling, being surrounded with like-minded people, my life seemed like a useless disaster. I was sad. And I was envious. Last night, I was just grateful for what they were giving me (us) and deeply satisfied with my own life and with the fact that now, I am a part of this creative force. Bravo Ana!
So one huge bravo to everyone! Including you, dear readers!
Tags: art, Commentary, Culture, Personal
Posted in General | No Comments »