December

Tacones lejanos
1. In 2009 my favorite hotel was Novotel München City and my favorite restaurant was Toshi but Munich was actually my least favorite city (I do like it, it's just that the constellations weren't right when I was there).

Cities I've been to in 2009: Vienna (twice), Modena, Parma, Munich, London (twice), Venice (4 times), Milan, Trieste (many times), Zagreb (twice) and Belgrade. Probably more, but I lose track.

One moment from 2009 that really stuck with me, so much that I feel the need to point it out among all other incredible moments of 2009 although I don't really know why: listening to Bel canto in the dark at Melanie's place in Vienna before sleep (January).

& there have been many more things but for the most part they're unspeakable.


Ljubljana, July 2009. One of the strangest months in my life.

2. I will be in Zagreb on January 16^th and 17^th to see the Metropolitan Opera's Live HD broadcast of Carmen at Lisinski and it will be the first time since I've consciously liked this city that I will have a chance to stay overnight (when I was very young, I was there for a couple of days to attend a violin competition, but I didn't care much about Zagreb or any other city then). I'm going to Venice this weekend and maybe maybe to Belgrade later in January -- I wasn't planning to show up there at least until March when the temperatures become a bit more reasonable, but it would be foolish to refuse the opportunity even if it means I might be ruthlessly introduced (exposed) to košava. My first exam is on February 2^nd, I'm terribly uninspired and in the past few months I've been let down by some people I would once have done everything for which does sting because I never learn anything, not to mention my perpetual mourning for the vast collection of failed love stories I've amassed through the years. I'm too naïve and it's never going to change.

près des remparts de Séville, chez mon ami Lillas Pastia
j'irai danser la séguédille et boire du manzanilla ...

3. I went to a concert the other day only to hear my beloved Introduction and Rondo capriccioso by Saint-Saëns completely butchered and a bit shaken up I decided to walk home through the city covered in lights. Ljubljana is pretty in December, it almost feels like some other place. My favorite part of its "holiday spirit" is the music you can hear in the streets of the Old Town; it's barely noticeable, but the effect is maximal. Too bad the winter fairytale has been ruined by rain causing snow to disappear abruptly -- it can never be quite right.

Bocca Dorata
Ah sì sì, Venezia è fatta per questo. E poi basta aprire quella porta sul fondo per andartene o ritornare ... Come in una favola.

Corto Maltese
Sarebbe bello vivere una favola.

Bocca Dorata
Ah sì sì, ma tu vivi continuamente nelle favole, solamente non te ne accorgi più. Quando un adulto entra nel mondo delle fiabe non riesce più a uscirne ...

4. ces lettres !
A very dear friend whom I have known my entire life but who I wasn't that close to until about a year ago told me that she has saved all of my letters (I sometimes write letters to people because my verbal communication isn't up to par) and it reminded me of how people talk and talk but it's gestures like that that really speak. If nothing else, it's nice to be understood every once in a while -- my tendency to choose the wrong people ruins a fair amount of possibilities for that.


8 femmes
It's December, I've turned 20 and a lot has changed, yet I somehow don't think a lot will change in the future.




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Things I Learned in 2009

THINGS I LEARNED IN 2009
• It's important to distinguish between people who will make time for you and those who won't.
• (Ideally) you shouldn't fall in love with anyone until you know them well.
• You really can do whatever you want ...
• ... and whatever it is that you want to do, do it as soon as possible.




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My favorite fashion moment of all time

The caption reads: Seen it all before: France's first lady Cécilia Sarkozy is all attention as her son Louis points excitedly during the annual Bastille Day parade in Paris. However, Sheikha Mozah Bint Nasser Al-Missned, the wife of the Emir of Qatar, appears to find something else more interesting.


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Goodbye Milorad Pavić aka All my favorite writers are dead

15. X. 1929 - 30. XI. 2009
Milorad Pavić, one of my all-time favorite writers, died of heart attack in Belgrade yesterday, aged 81.

I could write about how I met him at a literary evening in Ljubljana 3 years ago and he read a passage from the Slovenian translation of his newest book -- he didn't actually speak Slovenian and the comment he made about his bad accent was, much to everyone's amusement, "Bolje išta nego ništa". I could write about how the moment I relate the most to in all of literature is the end of Dictionary of the Khazars when Virginia Ateh, asked about her nationality at the court, states she is Khazar even though the nation disappeared centuries ago (an allegory to Yugoslavia by both Pavić and I), or about how I coincidentally came in possession of a letter he wrote to a Slovenian editor named Bratko in 1973 (he sent it along with a copy of his newest book hoping it would be translated into Slovenian as soon as possible -- I'm pretty sure the copy of the book I have is the very same one), and now that he's dead it feels peculiar to have the letter and the book in my vicinity. I could write about how everyone always seemed to think his age was static, never more than 60 or 70, because he kept going on effortlessly, never ceasing to research and write, so we all expected he would produce at least 20 more books. I could also write about thousands of other things that made Pavić intergalactic rather than cosmopolitan, a true sui generis in every possible aspect, a writer beyond the political backgrounds of the Nobel prize, but I really can't; despite having functioned like it was any other day today, a part of me is crushed.

Ponekad davna proleća procvetaju još jednom u nama i mi ih pronosimo kroz sadašnju zimu štiteći ih prsima. A onda, jednoga dana, ta davna proleća počinju da štite naša prsa od mraza kada se nađemo sa one strane prozora gde mraz nije samo slika. A zamislite sada dva takva proleća što se dodiruju kao dve livade mirisima. Eto šta nam je potrebno umesto ogrtača.

Почивај у миру и хвала ти. Од срца.




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