22_10_12

I hop on a motorbike expecting the inevitable. It’s a very light rain outside, but I know things can change in a blink of an eye. I speed up to make it on time, passing a few people dressed in jackets and ponchos going the other way. The streetlights are dim, and I rarely see any soul, as if everyone is expecting the moment the sky will fall.

I arrive at the pantai Pererenan and look around. The pristine waves are coming and going. The darkness selects for me what I should be seeing. The skies blend with the sea. I can see the tension on the black canvass. I feel I want to take this moment in entirely, yet I fail with my mind making suggestions I should be elsewhere. I take a few shots.

The rain increases. I hop on my vehicle and make haste. In a few minutes, I will see the torrents of rain pouring down. Making waves, creating rivers, and cleansing mother earth from whatever is on the surface. 


22_10_11

Note to self.

Make space for new by going cart blanche. No reading, writing, free from thoughts of others. 



A “bye”

Sorry to leave you like that. I’ve given you some of my best years. Got to love your quirks and imperfections. The wild nights and cozy mornings, summer colours as well as winter blacks and whites. You’ve given back with acceptance, hope, openness and new possibilities. Thanks to you I met people who became my true friends. People I can rely on. People I cherish moments with. Always my home.

It’s not a farewell, it’s a ‘bye’. 




Jó nap Pest

I’m living for a few days in a small 26-square-meter apartment near Margaret Island in Budapest. To get to it, you have to open a gate with a buzzer and take the elevator to the 3rd floor. Yet the apartment is not on the third floor. When you take the stairs, you need to stop at the second, turn, go down a long corridor, take a left, and be there. Magic.

Today I was awoken by somebody singing, as in opera singing. It must be a person practising for his next play in local opera - I thought to myself. I started searching for the source. It wasn’t my neighbour, although the walls here are thin as the giant pork chop I ordered yesterday in a local restaurant. When I opened the door, the voice resonated in the corridors and the tiny courtyard, yet nobody was in sight. I promised myself to solve this mystery in the coming days. Little did I know that it would solve itself in a moment.

Although it was 33 C, I decided to hit the streets a few moments after and here my luck came through. The opera singer was a lady on the 3rd floor (or maybe 4th depending on your means of transportation) on a balcony facing the street, singing in her leisure clothing. All while hanging the laundry. I stood there for a second as a solo man crowd, yet the sun was unforgiving. I hope we meet again, miss - I made a mental note and continued my walk. 

 During the said walk, I made a couple of discoveries and some things I re-discovered. The latter includes my favourite bench in the whole city overlooking the Buda side that makes me want to sit there all day long, read a book, and enjoy the leaves swaying in the wind. That always reminds me of the saying that “the best things in life are free”.

Turning my head to the Buda side of the city uncovers a different perspective: an open gym under the bridge with people exercising no matter the heat. I’m staying a bit longer today, ending my solo trip with myself. Each year I tend to hold at least one such retreat to sort my thoughts and open myself to whatever awaits.



Full moon

It was already late evening. The arable lands were coloured in blue-ish tint. There was a distinct breeze in the air followed by warmth and quiet. The grasses swayed gently together with the crowns of single trees. She stood there in all her confidence looking towards the horizon as if nothing else existed, only the full moon.


Remote breaks

In Balinese culture, people rarely leave their island to travel somewhere else as I learned from Putu, a local driver. He said that they do not need to. It is seen as a form of escapism. A way of trying to forget about something important deep down in us that needs attention. Contrary to escaping from the problem Balinese people try to focus on fixing what is not working in their lives, where they live and where it originated from. 

Personally, I do believe in remote breaks. It’s not about getting rid of the problems but getting out of the everyday context to look at them from a different angle. One that is not coursed with habit or influence of people from one’s nearest circle. The best ones are when we’re alone without thoughts and fears.

Walking in the darkness, shedding light on who we really are.


Silence

Words create limitations but silence, oh silence, you are so rich and limitless“ 

- this is a quote from the front cover of Silvia Pogoda’s photographic album named “Butterflies”.

The quote profoundly describes to me the meaning of isolation (in the positive sense). I understand silence here not only in the form of lack of conversation,  switching off Spotify or something similar. In a broader meaning, it’s freedom from other people’s thoughts. That includes articles, books or social media. It is purely being with oneself whatever that may bring. 

The above photograph shows a place very dear to me where the limitless silence was abundant and supported by the surrounding valleys and jungle with majestic Mt. Agung in the distance. 

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