Rainbow Child

I’m always in a very bad mood before and right after my birthday and I act like a total bitch. But then I get all these lovely things and for a second, just for a second, it feels good.

Among pretty colourful presents I got a more… technical one. I love my new camera lens but I don’t know how to use it! I’m not going to make a fool of my myself and admit that I manhandled it from the first day but at least I’ve read some reviews and in theory I should be able to use it without a problem.

But until spring arrives and I can go outside with my camera without fearing that I might slip and land on it, here are a couple of pics taken with the Lensbaby Composer.

These last two weeks have been horrible. I am overworked, overstressed, overunhappy. I though I could break free from the prison called work and do it on my own as a freelancer but all my dreams and hopes were shattered. I had one nervous breakdown after another. My problem is that I’m gullible and naive and it’s so easy to give me false hope and then when it turns out that well, I have to stay put ’cause you changed your mind about working with me as a freelancer all the things I had imagined, every bright day I had pictured came tumbling down and it sucked. Big time. Now I have to pull myself together and think if I want to go to work with tears in my eyes every morning knowing that nothing will improve there for my point of view or if I want to risk and still try to make it on my own. It’s such a hard decision as long as I don’t have anything real that I can hold on to… I still have a couple of days to think about it and I’ll do that.

This is my third day in Baia Mare and I still can’t sleep properly. I used to love the bed here and whenever I got home I just put my head on the pillow and I was asleep. And now I toss and turn and nothing. Not even the two duvets and the overheated room don’t make things easier for me.

But it’s good to be back home, I have to admit that. I have already met some of my dear friends from here and I still have many more to meet. I haven’t had time for myself but I managed to have my hair cut (yes, A., now you won’t have to see the ugly cut from the back of my head anymore ), buy some winter shoes and spend quality time with Mum. Oh, it’s soooo good to eat cooked food again! I’m sick and tired of falafel and pizza! At the top of my list with resolution I should put ‘cook more’. But who actually keeps track of those silly resolutions? I think they sound nice, they give you the impression that the year that’s just starting is going to be different, better and then you end up doing the same stupid things all over again.

I’m eating tangerines like there’s no tomorrow. I envy that my father has a green thumb. Yeah, their apartment gets more sunlight than ours, but still… They have so many plants and flowers and so few casualties. All the plants that I buy wither either because I water them too much or too less or because they don’t have enough light. I want to bright up the place and I can’t. I such a loser in so many ways…

This snow is such a bitch! When I woke up there was a thin layer of snow everywhere and it was snowing beautifully with big fat flakes and now it’s gone I really can’t picture Christmas without it and the city looks so sad and muddy and ugly. But there are still some days left and I still have hope.

I want to go back to bed and read all day but I don’t know if I have the patience to do that. I’m really mad at myself for not reading as much as I used to. I have to change that but how? Reading is something so personal, so mood-dependent. I can’t force myself to read if I’m not in the right mood and because I have other activities in the evenings I don’t have much time to read. It’s a horrible vicious circle!

*DeYarmond Edison - As long as I can go

Ar trebui să-mi repet asta de zeci de mii de ori pe zi…

I dont know how you can carry around as much love as I’ve given you – (March 1919)

And so you see, Scott, I’ll never be able to do anything because I’m much too lazy to care whether it’s done or not – and I don’t want to be famous and fêted – all I want is to very young always and very irresponsible and to feel that my life is my own – to live and be happy and die in my own way – to please myself. (Fall 1919)

Was it fun in Paris? Who did you see there and was the Madeleine pink at five o’clock and did the fountains fall with hollow delicacy into the framing of space in the Palace de la Concorde and did the blue creep out from behind the colonades of the rue de Rivoli through the grill of the Tuileries and was the Louvre gray and metallic in the sun and did the trees hang brooding over the cafés and were there lights at night and the click of saucers and the auto horns that play Debussy. I love Paris. How was it? (Summer1930)

Do you still smell of pencils and sometimes of tweed? (Fall 1930)

It’s fun thinking of Christmas and the night you will get home and how you’ll look as you come out the gate. I will be surprised at your mondanity and very amazed that you are concice and powerful and I will be happy that you are so handsome and when I see how handsome you are my stomach will fall with many unpleasant emotions like a cake with too many raisins and I will want to shut you up in a closet like a dress too beautiful to wear. (November 26, 1931)

Dearest – I suppose I will spend the rest of my life torn between the desire to master life and the feeling that it is, au fond, a contemptuous enemy. (Februrary/March 1932)

Happily, happily foreverafterwards – the best we could. (August 1936)

Dearest: I am always grateful for all the royalties you gave me, and I am always loyal to the concepts that held us to-gether so long: the belief that life is tragic, that a mans spiritual reward is the keeping of his faith: that we shouldn’t hurt each other. And I love, always your fine writing, your tolerance and generosity; and all your happy endowments. Nothing could have survived our life. (March 1939)

Dear Scott, Dearest Zela, Bloomsbury, 2003