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Epilogue

-Do you know what you are??? (Liv screaming at him, infuriated and exhausted from all the drama). You are that little scrap of shit that you are trying to squeeze out when taking a dump but you can’t … and you have to jiggle it a bit as it dangles above the toilet seat … you know … in order to give it a little push … otherwise you are faced with the clear understanding that you will be walking all day with your panties dirty and a burning and itching asshole. And that is not a grown up thing to do, Mark! It is not a grown up thing! Grown ups are supposed to be able to clean after their own shit! I am supposed to be able to clean my own shit!!! I don’t want to go around all day with an itchy butt hole and dirty underwear. I don’t want this life. Do you have any idea how it feels to be painfully aware of the fact that someone else is the centre of your universe??? to willingly accept this and furthermore, to do everything that is in your power to advance, enhance and multiply this feeling??? no, you don’t!!!! Because I made you feel special and needed and wanted and desirable and … and … I created you, I subjected myself to your jealousy and possessiveness and to your disease.

I unconsciously and consciously agreed to submit to your toxicity, I waited for you to change, I …. I … I (deep breath) allowed my sheer existence to become secondary to whatever it was that you wanted or needed. I ignored the signs, I ignored the bruises, I ignored the venom that was growing inside of me, I became this pathetic, deplorable, stalking woman whose only happiness arises when the object of her desire “honours” her with its attention and passion and presence. I hated you and I loved you with the same intensity that a rabid dog bites one of its victims. I spent countless days and months wondering how can I change and what can I change about me that would make you love me more and want me more. I wrestled with my demons on my own while I was unloading onto you the toxic waste that was piling inside of me and that I was unable to process and that instead lead to the beatings, and the insults and the utter and complete satisfaction of knowing that I was just as able to hurt you as you were hurting me. (she starts crying) And I got lost, I wandered off from my own path and turned into this bitter, lousy loser who couldn’t see what was right in front of her. And trust me, I know, now I know that what we had was so common and so sickening and … I mean … we started out thinking that our love and deep connection would overcome anything … and yet somehow I ended up … do you remember that one time I told you that my ex’s penis is bigger than yours? and you started crying … and I enjoyed it … I felt good that I was able to make you cry because I was so tired of my own tears, of my own drama, I needed to bring you down, to see you hurt, and I relished it, then I felt sorry for saying such a stupid thing, for making you cry so I did the only thing I knew would help … I told you “let’s have sex, I’ll make you feel better, I will wash all my words away with my extensive knowledge of your body and sexual desires”. How fucked up is this, Mark??? why in the name of God did we let it go so far? and then the beatings started … just another one of the many ways in which we chose to destroy each other.

You couldn’t control your anger while I was unwilling to show obedience to your rules. And you exploded, on my dad’s one year anniversary of his death you were in a club dancing and having fun while I was alone at home … I went mad that night, I begged and I cried for your attention, I had hoped that you would care enough about me to not let me be alone and miserable. I came to the club and … well … we both know what happened next, we got home and we fought and I unleashed the beast that we both had created, spewing vitriol and engaging in fist fights until you knocked me down and started to hit me with your feet … crouched on the floor, swollen and bruised I cried asking for your forgiveness … because that’s what women do when their boyfriends refuse to show compassion and empathy towards them, that’s what women do when their boyfriends beat them and turn into a savage animal … they ask for fuckin’ forgiveness!!! Three years had gone by, three years and nothing had changed, we grew more and more accustomed to hurting each other and lost sight of how manic and dysfunctional our relationship was. The sex was great, though. Best ever! apparently guilt forces one into some passionate, steamy, uninhibited sex. I’m almost sure that this is what kept us together for so long, we needed to release our anger and frustrations towards each other through sex. What we gained in exchange were a couple of hours of happiness and free-flowing endorphins that would magically erase the previously experienced tension. Basic chemistry, right? It’s just that … there was nothing basic about how we communicated  and interacted … I mean we did communicate and we did get along very well in the beginning, however, we slowly and gradually stopped listening to each other, we stopped seeing each other as human beings … we become each other’s punching bag. I hid from everyone, you did the same, in public we were a normal couple … (ironical tone) …whatever normal means these days.

So here we are today, older and wiser, apparently. I have to get away from you if I want to have a sane life, if I want to be sane. You are not good for me! you do not respect me! and I don’t blame you, I showed you that I don’t respect myself. I helped you convince yourself of that. I never stood by what I said I was going to do: one day – “I wanna break up”, two hours later – “let’s cook something, let’s go out, let’s make love”; the next day – “I hate you, you are hurting me, I need you to work with me and not against me, why are you so angry with me???” like I said, I don’t blame you. I didn’t know how to be mature, I believed I was doing the right thing by trying to fix something that was unfixable. And I am so so sorry, I am sorry that I hurt you, I wish I had known better, but most importantly I am sorry that I went at war with myself. That I went against everything I stood for, somehow trying to convince myself that I was this version of me that I knew you needed … while all along I was growing apart from me … creating a crater between who I was and who I had to be. That’s why  I don’t need you in my life, that’s why I need to be as far away as possible from you. I am no longer at war with myself, I might be going through some sort of peace treaty, we are still figuring out the details and points of discussion but I have one thing clear – every bit of me is focused, maybe for the first time ever, towards my psychological well-being. I have no desire to fight, to concoct strategies and devious plans to get you to be with me, to notice me. I am so tired of that. I am exhausted from running in the wrong direction. I realised how much I was fighting with windmills. There is nothing chivalrous and noble in trying to convince someone to love you. There is nothing to be gained in trying to change someone and force your will upon them. It took me so long to see this, it took me so long to let go of you or better put of my idealistic projection of you. I deserve so much better … you deserve … I don’t really know what you deserve, honestly. All I know is that I am beginning to learn how to clean after myself and it will take time. I take full responsibility for what I did and I accept the consequences. I will learn to live with them, and I am learning to live without you!

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Doing Catherine de Medici justice

(inside Liv’s home)

-Girls, we NEED to talk. I mean … we have to address the latest developments. Well, I have to address them because I am the one who is trying to make sense of them.

-What’s to understand, Liv? you finally found yourself a decent and caring man. And he happens to make you orgasmicaly happy, enjoy this, relish it and stop overthinking it!

-You are absolutely right, it’s just I have never ever felt anything like this. I mean, sexually, oh dear Lord of mine, he is just P-E-R-F-E-C-T!!! We just connect and … we feel each other perfectly and I am perfectly aware that I am over using the word “perfect” but it does justice to the current situation. He is my kind of perfect!! and his penis, whoaaa, out of this freakin’ world … the things it does (stumbling on words) … it’s a piece of art!!! a piece of fine art!! the best art there is out there!!! (everyone’s laughing). Honest to God, I don’t know if it’s because I haven’t had any in a while or because he’s the first man I started having feelings for in a number of years, but I just find myself remembering that scene in “Sex and the City” when Samantha describes Richard’s penis and I finally get what the woman was trying to say.

-OK, we get it. He has a penis and he knows how to work his way around it!

-True, true, yet incomplete. I do believe the me having feelings for him contributes to my current state of mind. And to revert to the art part of it one more time, trust me, Catherine de Medici would come back from the dead and become a patron saint of his dick!!! that’s how much of a piece of art that thing is!!!

(everyone bursts out laughing)

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Perspective/ projections

-Oh, she was the sweetest person you’d ever meet. Stubborn like a mule but with a good heart and kind spirit. Opinionated, always wanted to have the last word, not exactly adept at the adult game … you know … she had so much potential in her … try as she might, she would always come across as immature and unfit for a grown-up. She was my daughter, mind you! I gave birth to her, I nurtured her, I watched her become a woman yet she never really peaked. She would be in such a continuous state of … how should I put it … (long pause) she was never a disappointment, don’t get me wrong, well … maybe except for that one time, it’s just that … I just wish she could have got married and have kids and build a home and be a wife and mother and care for her own. She just adored children, I tell you! ever since she was 5 or 6 she would just go and hug and play with all the kids on the playground. It was as if she fed off their energy and felt the desire to offer her love to all the other children.

-She was incredibly assertive. It took her a while to get there, therapy helped her, but she was the most sincere and honest person I know. She was my best friend, my good friend, my companion, my confidante and the human I would always turn to because I knew she would never judge. Well, maybe except for that one time …. I just can’t wrap my head around the thought that she is gone. It is just impossible to comprehend how such an amazing and optimistic soul is no longer a resident of this planet. She had such a wicked sense of humour, my God, we understood each other effortlessly, she would always laugh at my jokes and we would always watch the same TV shows. All our pop culture references, all our inside puns, the way she would say “I’m here, no matter what, I got your back, just be careful and know that I love you no matter what!” … I just can’t process that, my compassionate, loving, unique best friend is gone!

-The best co-worker you could have asked for, seriously. Though it did take some time for her to open up, I always knew she was a sweet, smart girl with a heart of gold. She really loved her mother and treasured her friends. She would talk non-stop about them, she was so proud of them and relished their happiness and good fortunes. Always ready to lend a hand, maybe boastful on occasions but just in the right dose. Analytical and understanding of the concept of “space”. Such a loss, I will miss her terribly.

-My sister was one of the smartest people I know. She helped with my homework when we were kids, taught me some basic rules about what is right and wrong and just … it’s just hard to put into words how much I will miss her. I just wish I could have known her better, I knew she was going through a transition period and I figured out I would have plenty of time to spend with her and pick her brains after she got her shit sorted out and now ….

-Hi, everyone. The truth is the deceased was someone who loved you all very much but she also had some issues with you folks.

-Wait, who are you? and why do you speak like this about someone who can’t defend herself? how did you know her?

-I’m her therapist.

-Oh, so YOU are the therapist. And what makes you think you knew my daughter so well?

-For starters, she always talked to me about everything that was on her mind. She was trying to understand her life, her decisions, her path. She was confused and scared and uncertain about many aspects of her existence. She never wanted to make you upset, she was a devoted daughter but she wished you would see her for who she was. She was much more brave than what you gave her credit for, she was a bright young girl with a very active imagination and an even more active self doubt. She could definitely take care of herself and be an independent individual. I can’t tell you the number of times she showed you just how well you trained her for adulthood. You just did not want to see it and that caused much pain to her. She had her tools for dealing with life and was very proud of the friendships she had made. She never took for granted her friends, loved spending time with you and making you laugh. She felt seen, appreciated, and understood by you but at times she felt she needed to get away from you and just be alone and left alone. Yes, she loved all of you dearly, she might not always showed you this in a comprehensible way but she adored the time spent in your presence. She said it was the way she recharged. She was definitely proud of her brother and of the man he turned up to be yet she felt a bit isolated from him and did not know how to bridge that gap. I am so very sorry for the pain you are faced with right now and all I ask is that you think of her as someone who needed to be around humans, positive humans, good humans, people who share the same values as her but most importantly people who do not judge her, who do not say to her “I just had other expectations from you” or “I think you need more time to grow up”. We all need time to grow up and as we take the time to do that, let’s not forget that we are all doing our best. Ella did her best with the life that was given to her and it’s a shame life was cut short for her and we are all left with the horrible question of “I wonder what she would be like today, I wonder if she would be proud of the life she made for herself”.

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Latin brings people together

(The group of friends is outside once again for a cigarette break. Mark, whose curiosity over the woman with the sexy laughter has only grew bigger, is also in front of the pub enjoying a smoke break).

-You’re a grown ass 36 year-old man, Tim, what the hell are you doing on Snapchat?!?! (Liv can be heard saying). You know you’re this close to statutory rape, don’t you?

-Well, not everyone is as proficient as you in avoiding opposite sex interaction, my dear.

-I don’t avoid it … come on, I might occasionally be completely oblivious to it, but it is not something I do on purpose, at least I don’t think so.

-When’s the last time you went on a date, Olivia?

-Hmmm, let me see, starts counting on her fingers, 8 or 9 months ago.

-Dear Lord, whaaaat?

-Well, all my friends are married, with children or on their way to having children. I mostly spend time with responsible adults whose lives are pretty much settled. I don’t hang around single people anymore and at this age it is kinda hard to make new friends, seriously. Plus, I like my old friends and it’s not like single and ready to mingle people fall off from the sky.

-Excuse me, I don’t mean to bother you (man with a thick Spanish accent interferes) but could you please tell me how can I reach Covent Garden?

Olivia starts speaking to him in Spanish and points him in the right direction. As they wave goodbye to each other she keeps a smile on her face and turns back to her friends.

-Oh, God, you’re such a sucker for accents, aren’t you? (Emma, Liv’s friend, comments)

-What?!?! why would you say that?

-Well, isn’t it obvious? you fawned all over that guy just because he was speaking Spanish. You never lose an opportunity to show your Spanish skills and you bask in the moment when they tell you you sound like a native. I mean you were practically flirting with the guy, smiling and giggling and wanting to know what part of Spain he’s from and how much of a sangria fan he is.

-I wasn’t flirting with the guy, I was just being polite! that wasn’t flirting, was it?!?!

-Oh, please, if given the opportunity, you would start reciting Latin just to showcase your knowledge of the dead language.

-Oh, yeah, I’m sure there are plenty of men who are just dying to meet a woman who speaks Latin cause that really makes them go weak in the knees (Olivia imagines a conversation between a man and a woman as she drinks another glass of whiskey): “So, tell me something most people don’t know about you, my dear.” “Well … I can speak Latin, and I can also recite parts from Titus Livius’ Ab Urbe Condita.” “Woaaa, that is such a turn on, do tell more!” … trust me, it would be much easier to pick up a guy if I were to tell him the pearls of wisdom taught by my Lord and Saviour, Sandra Bullock (imagines another conversation as she’s finishing the fifth glass of whiskey, this time using a much softer and sexy tone of voice): “So, listen, I know we’re just getting to know each other but I just think you should be aware of the fact that I can bend like a pretzel!!!!”

Everyone bursts into loud laughter and Emma asks Olivia:

-Honey, are you drunk?

-Honey, I’m so drunk I could drown Liechtenstein!!!

Mark finally decides to introduce himself to the lively group and approaches Olivia.

-Good evening, I couldn’t help but notice that you have quite a wicked sense of humour and I would just like to have it known that I would very much enjoy initiating a flirtatious conversation with you. This being said, I am Mark. Good to meet you!

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Wisdom imparted via way of abstinence

(outside a pub, a group of friends laughing and talking, Liv is happy to be with them and is having a great time)

– I’m telling you, some women just don’t deserve an erect dick! they just don’t!

(laughter erupts when he walks by the group, looks at Liv and seems amused by what he has just heard. He is lighting up a cigarette close to the group, intrigued by Liv. He is taking his time to analyse her, albeit discretely)

-Well, I believe you have a point there, my sweet perverted friend. (Jason replies)

-No, seriously, it is a shame that some women just mess up men and then complain about sex. They just don’t know what to do or how to approach the penis. I may not be the best person to impart wisdom about this matter, granted, given that it’s been so long that I hardly remember how one looks like, however I do remember never taking it for granted.

(laughter again)

-Whoooaa, Liv, honey, I think we need to get you reacquainted with a dick! you are the only one responsible for your current situation, let’s not forget about this. Plus, thankfully, in the 21st century one can enjoy the pleasure offered by a vibrator, no man attached to it, no muss, no fuss. (Emma interferes)

– No, no, no, no, I like my dick with some meat on it, darling! (everyone bursts out laughing). Always had, always will! no superficial, chemically fabricated appliances for this gal! (Liv finishes her cigarette and takes a sip out of her whiskey glass)

(Mark has been standing there all throughout the conversation, talking to his friends, eavesdropping on the amusement taking place nearby. ” I think I like this girl” he says to himself. “Her laughter is really sexy and infectious and she does seem quite uninhibited. She is also very attractive.” Just at this very moment Liv decides to go inside and he rapidly opens the door for her as he is standing right next to it. He looks at her and receives confirmation instantly. “She really is beautiful by my own standards. Beautiful and funny.”

-Danke, Sir! Liv tells him as she goes inside the pub.

 

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Don Quijote si morile de vant

A fost odata ca niciodata o fata naiva care a iubit cu disperare un barbat. Ca orice fata care si-a urcat pe un piedestal obiectul dorintei si afectiunii, si a noastra protagonista s-a ales cu julituri si cucuie atunci cand a realizat ca faptele valoreaza si vor valora mereu mai mult decat niste cuvinte ambalate frumos si cu patos. Cand refuzi sa te mai lupti cu morile de vant si te dezbraci de rolul de Don Quijote incepi sa te gandesti mai bine la rolul pe care ar trebui sa il ocupi tu in viata ta si iti asumi tot ceea ce vine odata cu asta.

 

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Pregatiri de sarbatori…

Te loveste in plex. La inceput e doar un drum ce trebuie efectuat pentru ca apoi sa-l tai de pe lista. Nu te poti ascunde si nici macar nu ai de ce sa o faci. Oricum o dai si orice ai zice, mersul in cimitir pentru a atarna o coroana ornamentala (Craciun, sarbatori, asa se face la noi, deh, cica trebuie) la crucea tatalui tau te rascoleste. Si ajungi acolo, te apuci minutios de treaba, cauti unghiul potrivit, iti repeti in gand ca atunci cand vei veni cu mama (a doua zi de Craciun, tot dupa datina) ea va analiza si va evalua succesul sau esecul demersului tau, deci must not screw up! si cand aproape ai terminat, vezi ceea ce inconstient evitai – poza lui …si te izbeste: durerea, furia, neputinta, tristetea, dorul, dorul asta nemilos si crunt…. si te pui pe plans pentru ca doar asta poti sa faci. Te-ai abtinut destul. Te descarci si apoi pleci spre casa unde te duci sa executi pregatiri de sarbatoare; numai ca tu ai vrea orice mai putin asta. Pana la urma a devenit si asta normalul tau de cand el nu mai e. Un normal ce incomodeaza si te strange la suflet, dar un normal pe cat de normal, pe atat de anormal perceput de mintea si simturile tale.

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Bijuterii sau cum sa plangi de dor si jale

Exista piese si voci care iti fac fiecare molecula din organism sa vibreze si sa planga …. vocea lui Aaron Lewis pe piesa asta … versurile astea de iti patrund pana la sange …

“So when the day comes and
The sun won’t touch my face
Tell the ones who care enough
That I finally left this place

That’s been so cold
Look at my face
All the stories it will tell I can’t erase… ”

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Thank you for the music, Dad!

Growing up in my household you’d notice several things being repeated daily: me chasing my younger brother to hug and kiss him and occasionally nag him, my mom cooking and going out of her way to convince us, her extremely picky children, to eat the food she was putting on the table, and my dad blasting music whenever he could. He loved music! Oh, boy, how he loved listening to music! My most vivid memories of him revolve around his passion for this form of art and how he would incorporate that in his day to day activities.

Let me set the picture and elaborate further. I am talking about post-Communist Romania, a freshly democratic state trying to catch up with the West; what better way to do that than by watching MTV?!?! That is back when MTV used to play music videos and had decent programming. I’m talking about the MTV of the 90’s, to be more exact. My father’s generation had little access to the cultural movements that were taking place in Europe, freedom of speech was not encouraged, and they were forced fed “educational” shows that were in line with the Communist Party policy. Censorship  was in full effect and everyone was mindful of who to trust even when sharing personal taste in music or books. This is why I consider myself lucky to have grown up in post-revolutionary Romania, back then you could actually appreciate freedom of expression and people were not taking it for granted. Therefore, a lot of my childhood memories involve Dad turning on the TV and letting MTV play in the background while he would turn up the volume every time a song he liked came on.

My father was a seafarer, which meant that he would spend up to 6 months a year aboard a commercial vessel travelling the world or better put, its oceans and seas. Upon returning home, he would always bring us something from his voyages. Cue to my first ever walkman. For all you born prior to the Apple revolution or after the year 2000 this is the great grandfather of the iPod. I remember being so happy that I could finally listen to whatever type of music I wanted even if that meant having to buy cassette tapes (another ancient word that bares no meaning to today’s youth). But the biggest joy of all occurred when dad brought me my first cassette/ CD player. I was bursting with pride and excitement. You had 3 methods of listening to music – via cassette, CD or radio. Talk about upgrade! This is when dad introduced me to the kind of music he liked. From this moment on I embraced artists such as: Aerosmith, UB40, Bruce Springsteen, Tina Turner, Dire Straits, Peter Gabriel, Status Quo, Celine Dion, BB King, Eric Clapton and many more.  He had some very eclectic musical tastes, my dad. Something which I inherited myself, thankfully. Apart from the devices themselves, he would also buy CDs, lots of them, and share them with me. I can’t even begin to describe how precious these memories are to me and how much I appreciate being given a musical culture courtesy of my father.

My dad passed away 5 years ago, 2 months short of turning 50. He had battled cancer bravely and with dignity but his body decided it couldn’t do it anymore. Although he knew that he had passed on to me his love of music, I never really got the chance to tell him “thank you”. I never really got to tell him how he influenced my entire existence, how because of him my world, my life, my adventures, my sorrows, my core values feel and sound so much better. I will always regret not being able to take him to a concert with me and never having the opportunity to dance next to him. However, while I was recently reading Amy Poehler’s supremely sincere and fascinating book “Yes Please”, I got attached to an excerpt where she describes time travelling or at least her interpretation of it. It is really sweet and I’m sure many of us have felt something similar throughout our lives. About a week afterwards, I went to the mechanic’s to have my car fixed (I am currently driving my dad’s car) and out of the blue the CD player in the car started to function again (it had been broken for some time and I never really had time to fix it). As the first song began to play, I realised that I had made that CD for my father years ago. It had on a couple of UB40 tracks, one of his all time favourite bands, as well as some more contemporary stuff like The Chemical Brothers and Moby. I told you the man had eclectic taste :). I was obviously transported to that period when dad was healthy, alive and enjoying turning up the volume. I drove the rest of the way crying and remembering all the times he was able to put a huge smile on my face. I was crying and laughing at the same time and basically time travelling my way out of that situation.

So, “THANK YOU, DAD!” I miss you and I need you!

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Must love cookies …

(South Africa hotel room)

– You drove 2 hours to get me my favourite type of chocolate chip cookies?!?! cookies that remind me of home, cookies bought from the same supermarket that sells them in my country?!?!

-Well, yeah… I know how much you like them, plus I’m trying to put back a smile on your face (grins widely). Every time you see me now you scowl, granted, I deserve that, I was an asshole, but still…

-Can we please not have that conversation again? The jury is out on that one and I’d rather we focus on other things at the moment (reaches for the blue folder on the table and the cookies).

-Listen, I need to talk to you about something … (gets anxious and fidgety). I love you!

-I love you, too! just because you can act like an arrogant prick sometimes doesn’t mean that I forget all the good things about you.

-Liv, I LOVE you!!! not in a friend loves another friend kinda way …

-Huh?!?!

-I love you in a man loves a woman kind of way!

(she shakes her head in disbelief, looks at him)

-You mean … you love me in a Michael Bolton “When a man loves a woman” kind of way ??

-Yes! :)) I do love you in a Michael Bolton “When a man loves a woman” kind of way, but I also love you in a M. Bolton -“Can I touch you there” way because #you #sexualattraction. I need to hear your thoughts on this matter, Liv!

-Well, (she panics, takes a deep breath) …then …. I would like to say that I love you in a Michael Bolton “Said I loved you but I lied” kinda way! (pauses, looks at him straight in the eyes)…. wow, we really good at this Michael Bolton song references thing (giggles).

-How about we end the night in a Nine Inch Nails “Closer’ kinda way ??? (James devilishly suggests)

-SOLD!!!

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JUST DO!

Inmarmurita am ramas cand am vazut prima oara acest videoclip. Dansul este Andrew Scott, pentru unii James Moriarty din Sherlock Holmes (BBC version), pentru mine, un actor fantastic pe care sper sa ajung sa-l vad live pe o scena de teatru. Cu un impresionant background in teatru, Andrew arata aici ce poate face o persoana talentata si vadit inzestrata intr-ale artei teatrale atunci cand se foloseste de mimica, gestica, tonalitati diferite, tempouri, pe scurt – limbaj verbal si non-verbal. Il ador pur si simplu 😀 , in caz ca se mai intreba cineva !

El citeste scrisoarea artistului vizual american Sol LeWitt (Wikipedia il crediteaza ca fiind fondatorul artei minimaliste si conceptuale) catre sculptoarea Eva Hesse. Da, este motivational, inspirational, magnific, viu, brut si transpira genialitate (in umila mea parere). Departe de a fi vreo flacara creatoare, ce m-a atins pe mine, in afara de insiruirea de cuvinte terminate in “ing” (0:37 – 01:20) si crescendo-ul lor pana la momentul de climax … e simplitatea & visceralitatea sfaturilor pe care LeWitt le transmite: “Learn to say FUCK YOU to the world!”, “Shock yourself”, “Make your own world (…) your own uncool”, “Practise being stupid, dumb, unthinking, empty!” Luati de aici ce se aplica la tumultul personal, adaptati si ideal, actionati!

Am vazut clipul asta de vreo cateva zeci de ori, il am in telefon si il ascult destul de des, daca ma simt abatuta sau ingandurata, la el recurg pentru o schimbare de perspectiva! Pentru ca e simplu – apuca-te si fa ceva pentru tine! nu mai da din gura de pomana, nu te mai minti, lupta cu temerile si senzatia paralizatoare de frica sau “aoleoo, ce vor zice ceilalti?” nu e ca si cand iti va taia cineva capul pentru ca ai incercat sa iesi din coconul tau. Cerceteaza, indrazneste, intreaba, scrie, numa’ evita sa tii ascunse in tine lumi si idei! JUST DO!