we are what we eat

we eat what we are

Strawberry fields forever

Red Cloud is watching me and seeing much further than I will ever see. I am calm.

“I’m really alive! he thought. I never knew it before, or if I did I don’t remember!”  Dandelion Wine

And suddenly everything was there. Summer started early.

 

Gathered flowers and strawberries at the market. Freegan thing.

In the times of being

My little last paragraph I wrote for the paper for Geopolitics of knowledge about myself in the times of being - in the global consumer society:

<Yesterday we made a little experiment in the city of Lyon where people rush in their daily routines, trapped in metros between billboard signs and noisy streets with sad eyes in their faces. We took a guitar and asked for a smile and while we walked we spread the momentous exchanges which made people smile, someone squeezed their lips, someone laughed – but in that little moment the world was funny little place full of different smiles united by the chords of guitar. It did not change the economy and did not save the ocean from oil spill, but it gave a notion of the good will living in people. This is how this experience can create new image, which could replace the images of the spectacle produced for us to consume. This is how I perceive the globalization – like a new platform to build new, creative and inspiring structures.>

Pictures taken by Giedre without asking people and meaning them no harm. Neither this experience, neither these pictures were planned to be used in the final paper, but it just happened to happen. Hope everyone is good about it :)
lots of musical love,
neri

inner clouds

When you put humans DNA into ethanol it appears like a cloud. Humans soul is often imagined to look like a cloud.
I could say I spend this weekend with my head in the clouds in many different meanings.
The weather was cloudy, one.
I felt very dreamy, two.
I was surrounded by many beautiful cloudish souls, three.

And now it is so still. So quite that it is almost inconvenient. And this is a moment where I dig through the pictures to grasp again that spirit, to imprint the memory.
I only owe few ones taken down the common hall. The rest i believe to find later. I didn't take too many pictures, it was too cloudy in all different meanings and senses.Clouds were moving.

The house that keeps warm

There was this very foggy day.

There was a band called La maison quitientchaud.

There was indeed a house that kept warm.

There was the frost that bite our hands and faces.

The fog came every time we went outside, like a stage curtain hiding the truth.

I did not fight it, I just observed its presence and what it has left for me: some silhouettes, abstractions, bits of melancholy and mystery. The house that keeps warm this time was within each of us, inside us, running our blood, making our hearts beat bum-bum-bum-bum like the beginning of the song. With music in our heads we were able to float on the thickness of the fog, jump over the fire and stare at the endlessness of this whiteness.

The band:
http://quitientchaud.free.fr/content.php

4 seasons

Savaitė atostogų, savaitė keturių sezonų, savaitė 53 dainų išmoktų atmintinai, savaitė senų draugų, šokių padangėse,  maudynių šaltame smaragdiniame vandenyje, savaitė kalnų keliuose, savaitė saulės ir sniego, tarpeklių ir slėnių, karšto ir šalto, savaitė visko po truputį.