Sale 36?

I am alone in a Japanese restaurant.

I wait for 3 friends.

They are late. Already.

I wonder if they had a personal tsunami on their way here.

Ok, that’s not funny.

This is all very abstract.

Soft restauranty music merges with a very loud one from a discotheque nearby.

The place is empty but for me, even the waiters and chefs seem to be leaving.

Am I to be left alone here listening to distorted noise?

Will I wait forever?

For Godot?

I never liked waiting alone. It makes me feel inadequate.

What?

Yes, that doesn’t make sense.

But doesn’t it happen to all?

Inadequate. All by yourself, counting imaginary sheep in wine glasses.

Wondering what the waiters think of you: ‘yeah, sure… friends coming, aha… bet you don’t have any!’ or: ‘I don’t think those friends of yours are coming today…’

Inadequate.

But what’s the worst that could happen?

I could lose sense of self in the menu.

Order ‘one of each’ and binge on wasabi…

Grrrr...

Went to work this morning and look what I found...

Not a paleontologist, but I did enjoy the little treasure... more of what the dinosaur's been up to tomorrow...

S.

We eat, we drink, we steal things...

Ta-da!

S.

A FILM REVIEW. REALLY.

Dear Lars,

I wanted to end that dreadful experience, but I couldn't find an object sharp enough (for that purpose).

I accuse you of overindulging with the movement. Why? I wonder...

I wanted to puke.

Really.

For two hours and 15 minutes. Puke. Dreadful.

I wanted to kill her.

Really.

And puke on that wedding dress,

and on the (fucking) blue planet.

Sick.

Sick to the bone.

An amazing (music) score (I thought),

to a 'visually stunning' (as they say) sequence of shaky images.

Very shaky. Really. Too shaky. Really.

Since I couldn't puke on the dress, may I please puke on the review...

That aside, I must say that it had the effect you wanted it to have (I guess).

I recognized a common laughter at the end...

Laughter at something we didn't want to understand, but know well...

Big fucking planet. Blue, too.

I had a dream not long ago, I dreamt I was looking for land.

Dry land lo live in.

Me and a couple hundred.

Desperate, running away from the rising water.

Something like 'The Day After Tomorrow', less special effects and crazy wolves and in a familiar setting.

And now this- big fucking planet. And blue. Too.

I feel like a prophet, that if I take the dream as a sign.

I may also fail my climate education course, was so depresing...

I had to pause. That's the cause of the bad dreams, the tipping point and a bad movie.

Not a bad movie.

Not.

A little shaky, yes- 

literally. Really.

Not bad.

Crawling. A crawling movie, like a sick snail... long and dreadful.

But why did we laugh?

Why?

Laughter?

I thought... it's me.... it wasn't- we did all laugh. why?

It was all we could do. It was all we could manage. All we could handle.

Laughter.

Through fear, through recognition, confusion...

Absurd, but real. Human? God knows what a human being does in circumstances like that - a magic cave with wooden sticks? Nah, think not...

I wanted to puke.

Really.

But I am not sure if it was the film or those fish cakes I had for lunch...

Really.

A review? Not really...

Alive

'Too few of us wake up

each day and reflect on

how amazing it is that we

are not only alive,

but aware of being alive.'

Andy Coghlan

...

Strassenmusikanten

These two men taught me so much about life, love and about living my dreams. Much of who I am today was built back then - on the road, with Tonio, my backback full of dreams and our fearless adventure.

Years go by, and sometimes I still wish myself having a stroll in Sweden before a soundcheck, or feeding pigeons in a park in Paris. Today I went on an unplanned bus trip through London - night - and looking at the city I thought myself lucky- like I felt then, and still do now. Soooo lucky, and the black cats keep accumulating and what can I say, life is amazing and we better live it now, right now!

...It's a remarkable place... and I love my family (the one that chose me, and my chosen one)



In joy and love,

S.

p.s. I love music with a heart...

on food...

Love Jamie! I love food. love cooking and love Jamie for being so great and unpretentious.

I wish I had more time in my hands.

Sometimes I think I should've been a chef. You think? I love chopping stuff (thrill!)

chac-chac-chac-chac, as fast as you can, the smooth rounds of onion falling nicely on the chopping board. FFFFFsssssss, the sound of the sizzling oil on a pan. Gosh! Orgasmic!

Paff! a bit of this. Puff, tablespoon of that! Magic!

http://www.channel4.com/programmes/jamie-cooks-summer/4od

I will buy myself a big house with a massive kitchen. Wooden cupboards, rustic finish, coolest thing on earth. Will have all sorts of pots and pans and a cute little oven perfect for my cookies!

The dog will sit in a corner somewhere, (where I assume we will put his food and water bowls).

Do you mind pouring more wine? Dessert is almost ready! Not a problem, there's some more in the wine stack near the room to your right. That's were we have the TV. It's like a small cinema, really- feel free to use it in your stay here. I need it for 'research' and he loves his movies.

The dog? Of course he's allowed on the couch. What kind of question is that?

He sleeps in the bed, with us.

I have a soft spot for English boys, specially when they have big strong arms and are like bears.

I will find one just like that... really hope he likes to cook, we will go crazy in that kitchen or the jacuzzi I'm planning to have near the back garden. It's gonna be fun fun fun! You're all invited. We will have BBQ's outside, bring your beers!

:)

Can't wait!

:)

:)

El Poporopo

There is a word in Spanish: 'Poporopo',

isn't it funny?

'Poporopo'- it means pop-corn.

'Pop - corn'. I had a scarf- it was meant to be all pop-corny/pop-cornish (?).

Once after washing it, it accidentally got ironed.

It lost its pop-cornsity (?), ehem- its pop-corn quality... and became all dull.

How to popcornize it again, I thought?

How to 'poporopizarla'?

:)

Look what I found- notebook Nr.6

'Today was the last of our 'let's drink something' reunions at the wine shop.

Like the old days.

With the 70's music in the background, Cristina sitting in a corner, the casual customer, Simone opening a bottle of Champagne.

Do we say goodbye?

Those days...

the cowcross underground- Tonio and the Super Tramps; our days of touring, our fridays at the pub.

We were a family.

We are a family.

To take away- with me...'

Bang. Big Bang.

How do you explain the Big Bang?

Bang! Just like that?

Energy expanded - out of nothing..

There isn't something without nothing, but apparently there is no nothing without a something. Bang!

I wonder if the monkeys and the stars were already planned.

Somewhere (in a book maybe), in a word, a thought. Or was it a Bang! -

loud and clear and just went Puff! like an applause and standing ovation of monkeys and stars- words and thoughts came into being - like sqeezing an orange. Or something...

My Arvon Experience

This year I decided to take a course at Arvon. It meant a week away in the middle of nowhere, in a house with a bunch of writters and a How-To book of recipes for our evening meals. Coolest thing around.
So, this is something I wrote in my notebook (Nr.7) about that experience:

'By friday I was developing a mild addiction to both Paracetamol and wine- and in a smaller dose but not less important, a strong attachment to memory sticks. (fascination?)

All those long walks and runs I had planned in my head remained only that: plans, as my only and last attempt was frustrated when I got lost in front of a group of cows. I mention the cows because they were staring at me in a rather concerned way... and their appearance was in close proximity to that of a very strange and noisy plane. Conspiracy Theory?
Don't have one, but if anybody does, please send it to my desk in screenplay format (about 70 pages long, in Arial, size 12), thank you very much...


It’s been hard.



Coming back.


Last night I forgot to wash the dishes, I left them in the sink.


For some reason I was expecting tomorrow’s cooks to wash them… my flatmates did not understand.


I had to wash them.


I am having problems to sleep too.


See, I had a system, wake up, breakfast downstairs, prepare for session, session, lunch, tutorial, dinner, wine, more wine, session, a little more wine, toilet, a lot more wine, sleep, more wine, wake up. Rinse and repeat.
I am not entirely sure if my lack of sleep comes down to lack of wine, or lack of structure.


I also found myself installing a little blackboard in the kitchen.
It doesn’t work. I am yet to find out if there is something wrong with it (maybe they’ll change it for a good one?) or if the one in Shropshire was actually ‘magical’, but I am still waiting for a pot of Nutella, a pack of biscuits and some bananas.



I have only to add...
To my Arvon housemates:


Long pause.






In addition to being all very talented you are also very good cooks! Thanks for feeding me, inspiration, camaraderie and food!'




S. x

The day that never happened before.

Yesterday at some point, I wrote this on a piece of paper, because that's exactly how the day felt:

'This day has never happened before.
I swear, brand new day.
It feels weird, but good. A good day.'


And it was just like that, many things happened that had never happened before. I feel like I am exploring the world, like new and amazing things are opening up, like new and amazing people are coming into my life.
I love it! I see. I see more. I see differently. Life is like a good play! :)

And I choose to choose wisely.

Love,

Sophia

p.s. love it! love it! love it! love it! love it! love it! more please! more please! thank you!

Ken

He was embarrassing me on American television... 'they're sweethearts', 'a darling fellow, big as a house...' 'gone to earthhhh'... Daaaaad! I felt like a teenager.

love you both

I love it that she is so strong and inspires.
I love it that he is real.
I love it that I get to see the bigger picture.
I love it that they both are part of my life.
I love that I get all these amazing people to be part of who I am.


Thank you.

Impossible things...

Nothing is lost forever

I found Bola. Yesterday. In a coffee shop. A starbucks.

Bola used to sing for me when I was doing nightshifts in a sausage bar. I used to work with a german guy called Peter, from 9 pm to 7 in the morning.... exhausting. Annoying at times. Drunk Fabric kids and crazy people. Bola made that better. Bola told us stories. He used to come for tea. He used to sing. He loves to sing. It's funny how people forget about the things that matter.

If I was to die tomorrow, I would like to know I did things in the right order. Love and happiness, I think. I may be wrong. I often am. I have permission to be. It's just an experience. Bola got it right. From the start. The most important thing is a song. The most important thing is not the fact that it is a song, but the heart of it. The heart of it is happy, un-pretencious, un-complicated, free and very real.

I think music does that to you. Music and love. I've loved, I love and I sing (I don't steal things- wait a minute... sometimes) Bola smiled because I recognized him. People don't recognize him, he said. I bet he's wrong. If he sings for you, you will always remember him. ...'Ahhhh, the guy in the wheelchair', my friend said.

He is also a bit like a turtle, with his house on his back. I love the way he is un-complicated and loving. 'I am haaaaappy' he sang. Sometimes I feel like he knows a secret he is not telling... and if he would (share it), we would all be loving and happy, we would be songs.

What I learned? Nothing is lost forever.... once you connect with someone they will always (ALWAYS) be a part of you.

Life will find a way...

Don't forget.

On Writting...

Sometimes you are in the toilet, having a pee and you’re thinking of Alan Rickman. Maybe you saw him in a movie in the morning and you’re thinking about him- and suddenly the words of a dialogue you wrote 3 months ago come out of Alan Rickman’s mouth in a familiar setting (in your mind) and PUFF! Ignition. And now you become a prisoner of yourself and have to finish the bloody story.

Hominoid

He wakes up.
Cold.
Light reflected on things white (ice).

He walks.
He analyzes.
He finds. Fruit and seed and thing.
He creates.

He wakes up.
A computer screen.

(blink)

On sisterhood and the stuff that comes with it...

For some strange reason she stopped talking to me- just like that. We went separate ways and it was as if life had cut what connected us with a pair of very big invisible scissors.

We grew up together. I met her when she was born. She was the closest to a sister I ever had. Scrap that. She was my sister. So obviously having your sister not talk to you is a little hard; specially when you don't quite get what went wrong. From then on I just got the casual report by her mom. I knew she was alright, I knew she was doing well but she wouldn't talk to me.

When we were kids we used to spend so much time together. We danced, we had a girl band (oh God that was funny!), we played with Barbies, we swam and rode horses, we wrote each other letters to gossip about boys, school, drama and general views of life at particular momens of our lives, we dreamt and shared and loved each other so much that I couldn't understand why my sister had just stopped loving me, and caring, and akcnowledging me, even.

So when she sent me a message a few days ago, I was surprised at first, then a little suspicious and then a little upset.... How come now she wants to talk to me? I thought. How come she now wants to talk and be friends as if nothing happened and not even say sorry....
I thought I didn't want to reply to that message, I thought maybe I would just reply like she did all this time: with silence.

But why? Why wouldn't I talk to her? There's a big swamp between a story of two girls, two FRIENDS. Truth is, the whole thing sounds all too silly to me now. I just wanted my sister back. Maybe she just needed time to grow at her own pace, maybe I was too much of a big sister all the time and pissed her off, maybe she just forgot beacuse she was busy (...), maybe she needed away in order to come back. What I do know is that if time is what she needed, time is what she got and now I am ready to welcome her back into my life and tell her that I do still love her (as much as I did when we were five) and that she is and always will be my SISTER.

Now go make friends with someone you love but have neglected... connect! It's what we're here for. xx

Enigma

January... or is it February already?

So typical of me..... almost a year from the last post! I am sorry blog, I will try and feed you more often.... but then again, I always say the same and never actually do it.... *sigh*

I should write something about all the amazing things that happened since the last time. In a few words it would go a bit like this: Love, sleep, food, south of France, Guatemala, dogs, more food, more love, running, swimming, a little frustration, a boy, food, the same boy, stories, an award, a play produced and published, again the boy, some music, an airplane, books, more books, more books, the friends, damn it with the boy.

To finish this post I can only say: the boy said 'Sorry' and Cinderella couldn't understand how a prince could be so scared of relationships.... and no, I won't be the one to save him from sleeping on the couch...


And I am OUT until further notice.

FFFFffffssssssssssssssssssssssssss................................... x