Karri Kokko's Next Work
is now available
is now available
published by Leevi Lehto's great ntamo imprint,
the book is ready for reading.
Karri Kokon Uusi Työ on kirja on kirja ja kuinka sanat tulevat sormien tai aivojen huippuhieno kieli kuten suoratoistoa muassa yli hammu henki lankojen kuin kuvastaa pohdinta edessä katse ikkunoiden sisällä ikkunat.
mennä itse asiaan!
Karri Kokko's Next Work
is now available
the book is ready for reading.
Karri Kokon Uusi Työ on kirja on kirja ja kuinka sanat tulevat sormien tai aivojen huippuhieno kieli kuten suoratoistoa muassa yli hammu henki lankojen kuin kuvastaa pohdinta edessä katse ikkunoiden sisällä ikkunat.
mennä itse asiaan!
Karri Kokko's Next Work
is now available
22 kommentarer:
Kutsuun on vastattu
Tästä
"Kuka" haluaa "kirjoittaa" "mun" seuraavan "teoksen"? "Paras" ehdotus toteutetaan.
PS. "'Tekijän' 'oikeudet'" ja niistä kertyvät "tulot" suuntaamme Calhouniin, Georgiaan.
seurasi ensin tämä ja sitten tämä.
Kiitos ja onnea tekijöille eli Sarille, Sadulle, Troylle ja Reijolle!
In the summer of Karri Kokko haberdashery in circulation was asking who would want to write his next work? Tai oikeastaan kysymys kuului: "Kuka" haluaa "kirjoittaa" "mun" seuraavan "teoksen"? Parhaan teoksen toteuttamista luvattiin. Or rather, the question was: "Who" wants "to write" my "next" book "? The best execution of the work promised. Paras oli myös lainausmerkeissä. The best was also the quotation marks.
Sari Hakala ja troylloyd olivat kirjoittaneet kommenttilaatikkoon jo koko joukon "tarjouksia", kunnes eräänä kesäisenä päivänä Varkaudessa minäkin joukkoon lyöttäydyin. Sari Hakala and troylloyd had already posted a comment box on a whole range of "offers", until one summer's day in Varkaus, I set lyöttäydyin. Myöhemmin mukaan tuli myös Satu Kaikkonen . Later, the fire also Satu Kaikkonen. Tekstiä virtasi. The text flowed.
Kaikki oli "paras". Everything was "the best". Niin syntyi Karri Kokko's Next Work (ntamo 2009), joka julkistettiin perjantaina. So was born Karri Kokko's Next Work (ntamo 2009), which was published on Friday. Eri kieliä teoksessa on käytetty ainakin tusinan verran, suomea, ruotsia ja englantia pääasiassa. Different languages used in the book is at least a dozen, Finnish, Swedish and English mainly. Kustantajan mukaan käytetty kieli on "Rhaeto-Romance". The publisher of the language used is "Rhaeto-Romance."
( Lulu.com publishing system requires to select a language book - and the multiple-choice is not an option. Runsaasta tarjonnasta valitsin niin sanotusti hätäpäissäni tuon "Rhaeto-Romancen", lähinnä koska se nyt ainakaan ei ollut totta. Plentiful supply switch, so to speak hätäpäissäni that "Rhaeto-Romance", mainly because it is now, at least was not true.)
15. marraskuuta 2009 18:03 November 2009 18:03
A good choice "Rhaeto-Romance" I think it is. Toteavalla tyylillä kirjoittaminen tuo tuollaista töksähtelevää, piti omaa innostusta peitellä, mukamas. Valla find a style like that writing brings töksähtelevää, had his own enthusiasm to cover up, supposedly.
On kielivalinta sisällön kuvauksenakin onnistunut, varsinainen 'retoorinen romanssi'. Language choice is a description of the contents of a success, the real 'retoorinen romance'.
15. marraskuuta 2009 21:28 November 2009 21:28
Karri Kokko:
Shadow Finlandia:
An Extract
I have a problem. I am bored. I admit not knowing anything about love. Who the hell is living around my intestines? I think I’m paranoid. I’ve tried all right, but I’m terribly shy. I couldn’t really sleep at night. Lord, what a dumb and futile day! If I’d drink less alcoholic beverages, who would I be? Around my heart squeezed a cold fist that hasn’t let go yet. My head is terribly empty somehow. Cannot breathe. I live in an immaterial cage. I suppose this is just tiredness. I’ve been sleeping so badly. Alcohol, pills. How, during the moments of fatigue, you can loathe the slowness and heaviness of the human reintegration processes, the state of indecision, dependence. My mind got all locked up. I was all shagged and only wanted to doze off, but the merciful sleep just wouldn’t come. I’ve hurt others and myself. It hurts more now. Weeping comes in fits, as a spasmodic anguish that cannot be stopped or eased off by telling yourself how you’ve got over it before and will get over it again. A blown-out feeling. That is, I just don’t have the power any more. We had nothing to say to each other. I became a shadow. All the doors were closing in before me. Feeling annoyed, weepy, frustrated. Feelings all frozen. Sad. Been feeling fatigue, disappointments, and pain in mind. Yesterday, I was a complete carcass. Sometimes I feel like just being in the way in everything. So why is reading so painful? A real lizards? night, life bad, and murders in mind regardless. What a longing I’ve felt. If I can last out as far as early next week, then I know I can last even longer, and will again get going, my system beginning to work and push the poison out. In the evening, I pondered the contents of my tiredness. Got to halt, and just be there, breathing the sorrows out. During the day, he chases the snakes away with his baton, but at night they move back to him again. It too will end soon. We were also remembering the kinds of things we were intensely afraid of as kids. Except that I can’t live this feeling. A small silent, giddy feeling. All kinds of injuries. They’re promising it like they’d promise cunt to an invalid. Now feeling abandoned again, but at least I’ve chosen that myself. Everything should be fine, but still, I feel an inexplicable sadness. I feel pity for my parents; I’d loose my mind if I had a kid like this. Well, let’s see a movie and try not to die in longing. Had a hysteric fit of weeping, and during that, was close to succumb to a cigarette. I am what you’d call a non-sexual, even sissy man. I want to be among living and breathing people, animals, and plants! I don’t care if my feet have hurt for a year now, since I’ve been wearing these all worn-out shoes. Today I wanted to hide away. Depression is the only trait still left in me. Getting musty at home, without speaking or looking anyone in the eye. Nothing came to mind. What irritates me most is their making me feel guilty for fatigue. Now, suddenly, I’m afloat so far away from those changes I wasn’t afraid of, that I cannot believe in finding my way back again. All except breathing hurts. Am I supposed to have a right to be ill? I’d like to be quits with my past, but everything feels useless. Sometimes I just cannot behave, this way or other. I’m ashamed. Maybe I’ll let the hope warm my mind a tiny bit today. A compelling need to run away, somewhere. Maybe I shouldn’t have run away from the whole world, locking myself up at home to suffer from panic and fatigue. A few days gone by while feeling ill and infecting others. This day went down the drain. Wonder if this singing is happiness, or a signal of my going into a psychosis? Don’t know what was the last drop.
Well, better this fatigue than nausea. Fingers are all crooked all the time, and the skin is wrinkled. I guess I didn’t learn anything from this either. I’ve been deserted. But my fears came back, to stay with me a little longer this time. Well, I have no idea of how it feels to be in love. I too was sad, and didn’t really know how to give comfort. These are moments that are hard to live trough and to understand. Besides, is it fair to have lived in celibate against one’s will for three years now. And now I’m so filthily tired. I really don’t get myself. I want to be alone, all alone, with no-one near me. This hurts. Yes, you can die in hunger even in Finland! I’m old and frail. I just realized I have no-one to desire. I could go into pieces right here and now, that’d be a tempting option. Also, my staying power’s all but exempted, and I haven’t slept more than a few hours per night lately. Not a day without a sorrow. I’m all in smithereens. I wasn’t actually afraid of death; instead, I was afraid of my own fear and of that terrible frantic whirling somewhere awfully high. Now I’m waiting for the medication to come, the city is empty, everybody’s sick, and I cannot really get anything done. I get so pissed off of something like that, for Chrissake! Not good. I feel anguished, no-life, and keep talking bullshit. I feel like I’m screaming in some vacuum under a glass-bowl so people can see my gestures without hearing my voice. I begun to feel alarmed already. In my own life nothing happens, and I don’t have the energy to take sides in the world affairs. Bad as I am. Didn’t get to bed too early yesterday as I was trying to explain my bad feelings, even crying quite a bit. I don’t remember ever experiencing pure feelings; on the other hand, I don’t know if they even exist. So, how can I get better when I don’t know what I want to become like? I was feeling bad and weak, and dizzy, and even the phone was open. This time I was alone in the dark, and afraid. The result was worse every time. I’d had it! I had to go somewhere to get some remedy to my ailment. I want to stay in bed, to die for a moment, since by suffering this would pass. O yes, yesterday I was so anguished that I begun puncturing myself. A slashing thought, a shy hope, at the bottom, a fear. Got to find something to do, I guess. Too heavy, too much. It hurts. Feeling awful. My eyes hurt, and coffee doesn’t help either. To put it short and simple, I’m very tired. More than a month of despair now. Never good. I felt myself to be a failure, and stupid, and bad in every possible way. Just now it would do good to me to visit the outside of my head. And what good is that supposed to do? If only I knew how to get things out of mind. I feel cold, I’m aching, have a slight fever, and only want to sleep. Now I will go kill demons with Dante. I have no plans, no fixed dates, no intentions. This week, every day feels like Monday, anguished, long, and wretched. Nothing but feeling bad. The same stony clay-soil everywhere, where nothing grows but bitterness and longing. How can you be when there’s so much bad and evil and wrong around? When there’s no one near you you’d feel like kissing. I’m really tired. I too should stop even before I start.
Karri Kokko:
Shadow Finlandia:
An Extract
Translated into English by Leevi Lehto
Note : The whole book in Finnish
Note:
Varjofinlandia (The Shadow Finland) by Karri Kokko (65 pages, poEsia, 2005) is a collage of depressive or otherwise dark or gloomy fragments in Finnish blogs picked up by the author during Spring and Summer 2005.
uton
“sacred hiss / ghost oracle”
* the white dawn (4:33)
* the main gain of things (5:12)
* when the sun is glory (3:12)
* the midnight rain (1:33)
* when in it´s there (4:19)
* tuulen selkä (4:37)
* pyhä maa (3:18)
* usvan katkoja (2:50)
* elementit nousussa (2:47)
* ajatus unohdus (3:38)
ikuisuus (finland) #is 004 cd
the sperm “shh !” long playing record
* heinäsirkat ("locusts") (16:10)
* korvapoliklinikka hesperia ("ear clinic hesperia") (3:50)
* jazz, jazz (8:45)
* dodekafoninen talvisota ("dodecaphonic winter war") (11:45)
april 2009 release ; at long last here’s the fruit of a major reissue project taken on by de stijl’s clint simonson a few years back, intent on whittling away at pekka airaksinen’s ego chamber until he relented enough to allow for the re-edition of this priceless avant-garde artifact, borne from the minds of airaksinen, artist j.o. mallander (see the anoema-label collection of his early mind-melting sound-art pieces), mattijuhani koponen, and vladimir nikamo during the late 60s & early 70s ...
despite nikamo’s ties to finnish proto-boogie titans wigmam, dispel any notion of this music having anything to do with “rock” (or “jazz” for that matter) ; it’s a straight electro-acoustic improv session decidedly from and of the whole “broken music” sector, concurrent with the experiments of amm, mev, intersystems, et.al, yet far more lo-fi and wasted (the a-side’s guitar & feedback-dominated “heinäsirkat” rarely gets above 500hz) ...
easily the holy grail of finnish freak-out forms ; you can trace the roots of everything from kemialliset ystävät, avarus, & (especially) uton’s drugged haze to the blown-out amplified electricity of the sähko scene to this very recording ; that it’s finally available for mass recognition / appreciation is a serious cause célèbre.
de stijl (usa) #ind 39 lp
o records (finland) #or lp 0
"A gravadora 267 Lattajjaa é um daqueles selos com tiragens minúsculas, encartes artesanais e discos fantásticos de bandas que ninguém nunca ouviu falar. Felizmente (ou infelizmente, dependendo do ponto de vista), selos como esse agregam boa parte da música experimental finlandesa contemporânea. Breathtaking Sounds of Tivol, primeiro álbum do quarteto, é um miniCD com duas músicas e pouco mais de vinte minutos de duração. Pegando a atual onda de revitalização da psicodelia, o grupo segue os passos dos japoneses Acid Mothers Temple e junta a repetição do krautrock ao peso do rock dos anos 60. Alto e pesado, como deve ser. Breathtaking Sounds of Tivol soa como Neu! fazendo covers de Black Sabbath. Ou ainda, Deep Purple numa noite inspirada, criando "Smoke on the Water" duma jam, sem guitarras virtuosas ou solos de teclado. É quase heavy metal, mas não se deixe enganar. Como bônus, efeitos eletrônicos indecifráveis e mantras vocais completam o álbum. Deve ser um bando de hippies cabeludos."
"267 Purkkia Liimaa is een verzamel cd-r die haast uit zijn voegen barst. In krap 80 minuten passeren zo’n 28 nummers van meestal Finse undergroundgroepen. Het minste wat je van de Finse scene kunt zeggen is dat ze heel productief en verrassend gevarieerd is: zowel free folk, drones, noise, elektronica en aanverwanten zorgen ervoor dat dit album zowat alle kanten uitgaat. Naast bekendere namen als Avarus, Kemialliset Ystävät, Pekko Käppi, Vapaa, Uton, Keijo (die allen fantastische bijdragen leveren: alleen al de track van Avarus, een indrukwekkende gitaardrone waar een op hol geslagen drummer met volle kracht tegenin probeert te gaan, maakt deze cd-r de moeite!) vooral veel (voor mij althans) onbekende namen als Agnosia (noise doorspekt met bizarre fragmenten volksmuziek), O Samuli A (dromerige elektronica), Rakennustuhkaa (lofi akoestische band met spacy elektronica op de achtergrond). Pylon, een zijproject van Avarus-man Roope Eronen, vermengt repetitieve baslijnen met psychedelische elektronica, Bunsenlamppu en Lörsson lijken geluidscollages op basis van radio en televisietunes te maken, Braspyreet is primitieve improv-folk, de bijdrage van Kukkiva Poliisi (aka Jonna Karanka van Kuupuu) is extreem kort (35 seconden) maar wel doordrongen van percussie en keyboard schoonheid. Tussen al dat fraais ook enkele mindere tracks als die van Tivol: standaard rock met cliché gitaarrifs en slaapverwekkende drumpartijen. Naast al die Finse gekte vinden we ook enkele geestesverwanten als het Jewelled Antler collectief (de heerlijke relaxte repetitieve fingerpicking van Kerry Mclaughlin en Glenn Donaldson oftewel The Buried Civilizations!) en Anthony Milton uit Nieuw-Zeeland. Sommige tracks zijn afkomstig van eerdere releases op 267 Lattajjaa (vaak allang uitverkocht), de meeste zijn echter unieke bijdragen. Zeer de moeite voor iedereen die op zoek is naar een mooi introductie in de Finse ondergrond. 8/10"
The Wooden Cupboard:
Animals Speak The Spirit Tongue
I. crystal agony (6:18)
II. eternity has a landlord (4:04)
III. spirits and retribution (3:15)
IV. eternities diamond prison system (7:36)
V. walkin' gilded coals (2:58)
"begins with some random clattering, howling and guitar string pulling and gradually builds into a gloriously tripped-out ecstatic wailing drone piece"
1. LÖRSSON - 19?? (3:24)
2. ! & THE HYSTERIANS - kekkone! (1:26)
3. MIXER - kekkonen (1:23)
4. MUSTI LAITON - kekkone (3:09)
5. ROBERT HORTON - Kekkonen (timelag accumulator mix) (6:12)
6. VIHREÄ TEE - 15.02.1956 (2:14)
7. MELKOINEN - kumiseva kalju (3:50)
8. HENEN LÄHETTIPALVELU - 1962 (2:33)
9. KIVA - kkknn (4:44)
10. KLAUS HERDE - 1962 (5:47)
11. LAMPPUKELLO - kekkonen (1:06)
12. TWISTED KRISTER - havaijipaitainen (2:53)
13. SIERAINPARISTO - 196668 <- 196662 <- noottikriisi (4:13)
14. HUMAN NEUTRON MISSILE SQUAD - mää ole kekkone (4:59)
15. TOR TOR TOR - kekkonen (2:13)
16. TONI LAAKSO - kekkonen (3:03)
17. MATTI JA SEPPO - kekkosen peräänajo (4:07)
18. RENE KITA - kekkonen (1:58)
19. TAMMINIEMEN PESÄNJAKAJAT - kekkonen vs. fagerholm (3:52)
20. PANSSARIJUNA - 1962 (6:33)
21. TONI KANDELIN - 1962 (4:42)
22. UNIDENTIFIED SOUND OBJECTS - urkitta (4:16)
"Boston-fyr nå bosatt på vestkysten er over oss med det ypperste av det ypperste. Droner, men av varierende type og intensitet, multiinstrumentalist, så instrumentene er uendelige, og har ser ut til å beherske alt til perfeksjon. Hvorfor vi først nå har oppdaga ham er en gåte, før tilfellet ville at han samarbeidet med Tom Carter fra Charalambides. Dette er en musikalsk reise hvor inspirasjonene ser ut til å ha vært endeløse. Og hvor bevegelsen framover er konstant. Dette er en briljant opplevelse ingen må gå glipp av, og i føle de som vet er dette en av hans beste, og plassen å starte for oss nybegynnere. Se for deg de musikalske rom hvor John Fahey skapte sine mer eksperimentelle prosjekter og bland inn noe ev det mest opphøyde fra en kombinasjon av Charalambides og Migrantes. Stønner!"
1. beatnik era (5:49)
2. 1975 (4:08)
3. sverige (i novembre) (4:03)
4. phonetrip 11.03.05 12:07:00-12:14:09 (7:09)
"i went to a psch hospit and they just diagnose me as sleep deprived because that is all that i am.. no wonder with the mentat esp of nuts that harass me because they cant get peace cause their sins are too deep in their collective unconsciousness so it is a troublesome time to be born in.."
Näin eteerisestä musiikista on vaikea sanoa mitään järkevää, mutta loppukommenttina voitaisiin todeta, että syventävät kurssit voisivat kiinnostaa myös kotimaan agenttia.
"Aineettomaksi temperamentin -duon debyytti Narsk on hulppeaa freejazzia rumpujen ja kitaran tahtiin. Yleensä tämmöisten viritelmien kohtalona on tylsistyä tasaiseksi ääntelymatoiksi, mutta AT onnistuu tekemään metelöinnistään mielenkiintoista koko +30 minuutin ajan."
"freeform tumbling-down-a-staricase splurges of guitar and drums"
"Aineettomaksi temperamentin on Taneli ja Teemu Viljakaisen impro-duo, jota pitää heti alkuun onnitella siitä, että ovat keksineet bändilleen nimen, jota ei halua edes yrittää alkaa taivutella suomenkielen sääntöjen mukaan. Koittakaamme siis pärjätä muulla tavoin. Sähkökitara ja rummut ovat musiikin työkalut ja vapaa improvisointi sen viitekehys. Kolmeen kappaleeseen jaettu levy soljuu niin vaivattomasti kappaleesta toiseen, että sitä voinee pitää yhtenä, reilun puolen tunnin mittaisena teoksena, vaikka kappaleet lienevätkin erillisinä äänitettyjä. Duon ilmaisu on tilavaa, mutta tiivistä: kitaristi Taneli soittaa pääasiassa lyhyitä, iskeviä fraaseja, Teemun rummut paukkuvat free jazzin hengessä. Narsk on osuva nimi levylle, soundit ovat riipiviä ja narskuvia; soitossa on kuitenkin sen verran ilmaa välissä, että ihan silmille ei hypitä. Laadukasta."
1. we can use it to represent the self-mutilating entity cluster (11:44)
2. the chrome larch (5:17)
3. a van (17:17)
1. moist friends (19:50)
2. moth eat tope light (6:00)
3. devizes (21:40)
First full-length album from this UK group who work communal post-Vibracathedral polyphony into primitive drone forms.
"Brittiläisen Choran nimeämätön levy on ensikuulemalla hämmentävä kokemus. Jotenkin psykedeeliseen musiikkiin on onnistuttu yhdistämään pakahduttava kauneus ja erittäin hermoja koetteleva rumuus. Eikä näitä piirteitä voi edes mitenkään sormella osoittamalla erottaa toisistaan. Salakavalan taitavasti rakennettua ääntä. Erityisesti "Moist Friends" on vahva."
7. Many peeps out there may know something or another about the legendary NWW list. This was a printed insert of recommended obscurities Steven Stapleton included in copies of the first couple of Nurse With Wound albums. The list has been a touchstone for a lot of people over the years, and various attempts to reissue bits and pieces from it have been made. Right now there are actually a goodly number of them available in one digital format or another, but shamefully few have been blessed by vinyl reissue, which remains the king of all known formats. Thankfully, De Stijl has taken the time to do a lovely, lovely LP reissue of the sole album by the Finnish experimental band, Sperm. Entitled Shh!, the album features one side of kosmiche-tinged free-rock with many electronic asides. The flip replaces the kraut proclivities with some free-jazz reed-gush, and it all sounds utterly jake. The original had a silk-screened sleeve, but this one looks dandy and sounds better than any original we’ve ever laid ears on. Gut stuf!
In this series, Finnish authors ponder the difficulties of their profession. Sirpa Kähkönen, author of six novels, gives an account of going unseen – the painful initiation, triggered by the lukewarm reception of one of her books, of a more mature and profound phase in her life as a creative writer
I found myself in a temporary but intense period of creative crisis in the spring of 2006. The crisis was expressed outwardly in the classic manner – as an emptiness, a desertification. Suddenly I was unable to get to the place between dream and reality where an artist operates. Something was missing from my writing; the spark, the vibration, the lifeblood.
When my novel, written and proffered with love, sank into oblivion without really generating any notice, when the opportunity to be seen in a positive light was taken from me, I experienced such a shock of disappointment that it almost wore me down.
Then I came across the Swedish psychiatrist Johan Cullberg’s book Skaparkriser. Strindberg’s Inferno och Dagermans. (‘Crises of creation: Strindberg’s Inferno – and Dagerman’s’), which I had purchased years earlier. It often happens that a book demands to be purchased for the sake of some future need. It’s best to listen carefully to such impulses.
Cullberg analyses the creative crises of two Swedish writers, August Strindberg and Stig Dagerman, that end in the first case with the writer’s hard-earned triumph, and in the second with suicide at the age of 31. Cullberg bases his research on letters, diaries and other factual documents, as well as works of literature. It’s possible to be of many minds about whether a person’s life can be reduced to the papers it leaves behind or to consciously-created fictitious works. But the merit of Cullberg’s work is that he gives the reader useful tools for analysing creativity. When I was convinced that I would never again be able to create anything, Cullberg’s book made me understand that many of my fellow artists have had the same experience.
Cullberg describes what Canadian psychoanalyst Elliot Jaques called the two types of creativity: spontaneous and sculpted. In his research in the 1960s, he found that there is a radical change in many artists’ work around the age of 35 or 40. Their manner of working changes in quality. During their youth, creativity is intense and spontaneous; their output comes ‘hot from the fire’. But around their fortieth year their creativity becomes more sculpted. Occasionally, inspiration may still be hot, and subconscious work just as important, but there is a greater distance between the first flood of inspiration and the finished creation, characterised as a powerful process of shaping.
In the creations of a mature artist, the work of inspiration is only the first phase – what seems to occur quickly and directly is in later life usually the product of long incubation and years of work developing a theme. According to Jacques, during this middle period of crisis, the lyric-descriptive attitude of the young artist shifts toward a more tragic-philosophical direction. Radical need, impatience, youthful idealism and optimism are replaced by a more reflective and tolerant stance – this could also be called becoming middle-aged.
This ‘mid-life crisis’ is, in a way, completely banal and mundane. But Cullberg expresses great sympathy for the struggling artist in a crisis. It is an agonising period because on the one hand it concerns the artist’s mundane worries: how will I make a living, how will I justify myself to the rest of the world during a time when I am simply mulling over changes? How long will it take the source of my creativity to replenish itself?
According to Cullberg, the artist’s profession involves a continual struggle for self-confidence and legitimacy. That was the case during my own crisis: how could I justify my desire to continue with my themes, even though they weren’t really making much more money for myself or for my publisher? How could I presume to claim that my subjects were meaningful, when the literary public wasn’t the least bit interested in them?
This narcissistic trauma was clearly a result of the fact that my great work had gone down the drain. I wasn’t recognised. Precisely because of my early experiences, this was the most devastating experience of all for me. Because I had to create some kind of narrative or frame of reference for my own artistry, I decided that I belonged to that group of artists who never tasted success while they were alive.
Marja-Leena Mikkola’s wonderful translations of Boris Pasternak’s poems helped me to find the right path: my desert erupted in colour. I wanted to do what Pasternak urged: to remain true to myself, to stay alive to the end. ‘Another, step by step, will follow/The living imprint of your feet;/But you yourself must not distinguish/Your victory from your defeat.’
I also noticed that the crisis left a permanent mark on my person. Paradoxically, a large measure of my energy was freed up because I no longer needed to conceal my grief from myself or from others. Cullberg calls sadness the compost of creativity: in a state of sadness, there is an increase in receptivity to signals of both the outer and inner worlds. The empathy needed for creativity is strengthened because a more internal listening creates a readiness for understanding inner relationships. People in this situation are said to hold the key to the ‘room of their depression’. A slight depression or melancholy, if you like, may nourish creation. But a difficult depression can be devastating.
The sculpting of a self-image is almost unavoidable for an artist, because selfhood is an artist’s most essential tool. Middle age, with its inevitable changes, makes the consideration of selfhood unavoidable to everyone. One must accept the inevitability of death and come to grips with the fact that there are very few things that can be blamed indefinitely on circumstance. We must face our own evil – and our goodness.
The acceptance of pain and loss as a part of one’s own life is difficult. Internalising them as a part of the artist’s fate is tough. The word fate is indispensable here. My crisis taught me to thoroughly accept the course of my life, including those things that I could not influence in any way, to accept the losses that have left a deep desire in me to be recognised, losses that nothing can ever replace. Because they can never be replaced, there is also no need to try to compensate for them.
Paradoxically, I became stronger as an artist and as a person through the deepest possible experience of weakness. Sadness is something that we all have in common as people – it brought me closer to other people, without desires or expectations. And recognising this sadness doesn’t close off the deep, peaceful happiness and joy of life in all its phases.
"No matter how much technology reduces the intellectual and social isolation of people, their metaphysical isolation is little affected."
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...please where can I buy a unicorn?
יש לי אחד ....
זה יפה, מסתורי
אני חושב שהם לא יכולים לקנות:
הם באים אליך כשאתה לא לחכות ....
כן
זה נכון
נכון הוא כי
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