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Se afișează postările cu eticheta intamplari. Afișați toate postările

12/25/2012

Povestea Oamenilor de Zapada... / Snowmen Story...

Oamenii de zapada isi fac bilantul...
The Snowmen make the balance sheet...




S-au bucurat si i-au bucurat pe altii...
They joyed others and enjoyed themselves...

 

Au trecut prin greutati, dar si prin momente fericite...
They passed hardships but also had happy moments...



Si-au facut prieteni noi, dar nu s-au uitat nici pe ei insisi...
They made new friends but didn't forget themselves...

 
Au mers, au tacut, au inteles si s-au maturizat...
They walked, they kept silent, they understood  and they matured...

 
Acum se primenesc si pregatesc sa intampine un nou an. Cum va fi el sa vina...
Now they prepare and get ready to greet a new year. No matter how it will be...

 

Va multumesc tuturor ca mi-ati fost alaturi acest an si va doresc sarbatori cu bine si un an nou fericit, cu sanatate si multe impliniri! Craciun fericit si La multi ani!
In final, va a ofer in dar cel mai drag colind mie.... Versurile unui mare Om - Radu Gyr cantate de un alt mare Om - Tudor Gheorghe.

Thank you all for being with me this year and I wish you happy holidays and a fulfilling new year, in good health and happiness! Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
In the end, I'm offering you a carol, the closest to my soul... A great Man's lyrics - Radu Gyr sung and interpreted by another great Man - Tudor Gheorghe


8/24/2012

Norocel

Maine se va implini o saptamana de cand ne-am intalnit. Intamplator. Sau poate nu... Planuri rasturnate, calatorii anulate, scurte pareri de rau. Toate alaturi de-o mare bucurie!
Are aproape patru saptamani si e fetita. I-am spus Norocel. Norocul este al meu, la fel si privilegiul de a-mi fi fost scoasa in cale.


Tomorrow it will be one week since our encounter. By hazard. Or maybe not... Change of plans, cancelled trips, short regrets. All together with a great joy!
She's almost four weeks old and she's a girl. I called her Norocel (Little Luck). I'm the lucky one and the privileged for her to be put on my way.

6/24/2012

Orgolii mari, suflete mici si probleme marunte.


Cand eram copil, imi amintesc cum unii batranii din vecini aveau o deosebita preocupare si grija pentru spatiile verzi din jurul blocului. Le curatau periodic, aparandu-le aproape cu ferocitate, de parca farama de verde reusea sa-i mentina inca tineri, tinand la distanta sfarsitul firesc, iminent. Dar noi, copii crescuti intre betoane, cu setea de verde nemarginit permanent nesatisfacuta, incalcam deseori conventia adoptata tacit: “nu va jucati pe iarba!” Caci nu-i asa, ce poate fi mai placut decat sa joci capra sau lapte gros pe iarba, nu pe maidan, ba chiar sa-ti testezi abilitatile atletice intr-o proba incropita ad-hoc, de sarit garduri…verzi?


De atunci, lucrurile nu s-au schimbat prea mult, remarc. Probabil fiecare strada, fiecare bloc isi are batranii sai ce pretuiesc mai presus decat orice, verdeata. Si n-ar fi nimic rau in asta, de n-ar reactiona atat de brutal si de bolovanos fata de cei ce-ncalca regulile stabilite - copiii, etichetati din start ca “needucati”.

Dupa patru zile fierbinti, ploaia de ieri si vantul racoros au scos din case la joaca,  putinii copii ce locuiesc in bloc. Veselie mare, strigate, chiote. O partida de fotbal, intre doua reprize de “tara, tara, vrem ostasi”. Invariabil, batrana apare in geam scuipand invective urate. Rusinati, copiii de opresc si se indeparteaza, imprastiati de brusca amputare a bucuriei. In scurt timp, un baiat si-o fata, insotiti presupun de mama lor, isi fac aparitia in dreptul geamului batranei, declansand furtuna. Circul capata proportii halucinante, de la acuzatii cu tenta sexuala, pana la amenintari de rupt picioare sau chemat politia. Strada rasuna strident, ambele femei fiind de neoprit, in ciuda rugamintilor stinse ale baiatului “mama, las-o in pace!...” , “mama, hai sa mergem!...”

Vecinii apar rand pe rand in ferestre, urmarind cu interes deznodamantul. Furtuna se sfarseste la fel de brusc precum a inceput, femeia furioasa plecand incadrata de cei doi copii, vizibil stanjeniti de atentia colectiva. Disparand dupa coltul blocului, o aud razand cu pofta : “e dusa cu capul aia, dar i-am zis eu cateva! daca o prind pe-afara, o sa-i sparg capul…”

In linistea asternuta in urma-le, mierla isi continua detasat trilurile. Cine sa i le mai auda?... 

6/03/2012

demnitate furata... / stolen dignity...

de obicei nu cumpar flori. nu-mi place sa le vad taiate si odata uscate, mi-este greu sa le arunc la gunoi.
le ador insa afara, in natura. la fel in casa, plantate in ghivece. cat mai multe!
astazi am facut o exceptie. buchetele mici, aproape la fel de ofilite ca mainile ei, mi-au agatat privirile. aveau ceva de pasare speriata prinsa-ntre palme, intr-o fatala clipa de neatentie. la fel de gingase, la fel de frumoase.

am intrebat-o cu cat le vinde iar ea, ridicand inspre mine privirea batrana si totusi inca limpede, mi-a raspuns "cu cat vreti dumneavoastra". am scos o bancnota si i-am intins-o, primind in schimb buchetul mic de suflete legate strans laolalta. si pret de o clipa, mainile ni s-au atins. ale mele erau calde. ale ei, uscate si racoroase.

inapoi spre casa, drumul mi s-a parut mai lung...




I usually don't buy flowers. I hate to see them cut off and once dead, I find it very hard to throw them into the rubbish bin. but I adore them outside, in the nature. and also inside, planted into pots. the more the merrier!
today I made an exception. the small bouquets, almost as sear as her her hands were, caught my sight. there was something about them, like a frightened bird caught in the trap of one's palms in a fatal moment of carelessness. just as gentle, just as beautiful.

I asked her how much she's selling and with an old, but still lucid look, she answered "with how much you want". I took a bill and handed to her, receiving in exchange a small bouquet of souls tightly bound together. and for a transient second, our hands touched. mine were warm. hers, dry and coldish.

the way back home seemed somehow longer...





4/11/2012

Oua incondeiate / Written eggs

Legat de practica religioasa a sarbatorilor de primavara, obiceiul si in acelasi timp arta incondeierii oualor este un fenomen stravechi pe teritoriul tarii noastre, fiind insa intalnit si la alte popoare din Europa de Est. Preluat de crestinism, dar cu un continut si o semnificatie diferite, incondeiatul oualor constituia pentru lumea antica un simbol al primaverii, al reinnoirii si reinvierii naturii.

Epoca de cand dateaza obiceiul de a inrosi oua este greu de stabilit. Oua rosii de piatra s-au gasit in morminte din vremuri foarte indepartate. Chinezii intrebuintau ouale rosii cu 2000 de ani inainte de Christos, iar obiceiul era o mostenire din timpuri si mai vechi.  Religiile tuturor popoarelor au introdus oul rosu in ceremoniile cultului lor. Egiptenii aveau un obicei special la echinoctiul de primavara, cand ofereau oua zeului creator. Persii aveau acelasi obicei la sarbatoarea Anului Nou, obicei despre care povesteste un calator chiar si pentru anul 1704, care spune ca de Anul Nou (20 Mai), persii se felicitau daruindu-si oua in diferite culori. Oul avea mare insemnatate si la romani, care faceau jertfe speciale cu oua colorate (cf. Ovidiu, Juvenal si Pliniu) la sarbatorirea echinoctiului de primavara.

Incondeierea oualor s-a executat acasa, intotdeauna de catre femei, ornamentica oualor fiind extrem de variata, de la motive geometrice, la motive ce reprezinta omul, universul si natura inconjuratoare. Cel mai frecvent intalnit este cel solar, reprezentat printr-o serie de motive concentrice, cu numeroase raze. Insa inepuizabila imaginatie creatoare a marilor maestri in acesta arta creeaza o adevarata betie de motive, izvorate din gandurile lor, din viata sau natura precum: bradul, vita de vie, spicul, frunza stejarului, dar si stilizari zoomorfe – pestele, paianjenul, radasca, albina – ori reprezentand uneltele de munca – sapa, grebla, fierul plugului. Dintre motivele religioase, cel mai frecvent intalnit este cel al crucii.   
De asemenea, in vechime, culorile folosite la vopsirea ulterioara a oualor erau obtinute din surse naturale: coji de ceapa rosie si pudra de sfecla pentru rosu, coji de ceapa sau coaja de mar salbatic pentru galben, cucuta pentru verde, coaja de arin pentru negru.

Tehnica incondeierii se realizeaza cu ceara de albine topita, pe ouale intregi spalate (sau pe oua golite de continut), cu ajutorul unui instrument numit chişiţã - un bat de lemn ce are atasata cu sarma la unul dintre capete, o mica palnie din alama. Dupa “scrierea ”oualor, acestea se vopsesc. In final, ceara se inlatura de pe oua prin stergere cu o carpa infierbantata ori prin apropierea acestora de o sursa de caldura, apoi se ung cu grasime pentru a le da stralucire.  


***

Part of the spring celebrations religious practices, the custom of written eggs is an ancient phenomenon within our country, but it is also known in other countries from Eastern Europe. Adopted by the Christianity, but with different content and significance, the custom of written eggs was a symbol of springtime, of nature’s renewal and rebirth for the entire ancient world.

It’s difficult to say when the habit of dying eggs with red colour appeared first. Red stone eggs had been found buried in very old tombs. The Chinese utilized red eggs 2000 years before Christ and the custom was a legacy from even older times. All religions introduced the egg into their cult’s ceremonies. The Egyptians had a special tradition during the spring equinox when they offered eggs to their god-creator.  The Persians had the same tradition when celebrating New Year (the 20th of May) - tradition registered even in 1704 according to one traveller’s testimony – the time when they congratulated each other and shared gifts of coloured eggs. The egg was very important for Romans as well, who used to bring special offerings with coloured eggs when celebrating spring equinox, according to poets Ovidiu, Juvenal and Pliniu.

The “writing” of the eggs is a home activity, done almost exclusively by women, using a large variety of ornaments from geometrical motifs to others representing man, the Universe and the surrounding nature. The most common motif is the solar one represented by a series of concentric drawings with a large number of rays. But the fertile, endless imagination of the greatest artisans of this tradition had created a true exhilaration of motifs sprung from their thoughts, their daily life and nature such as: the fir, the vine, the oak leaf, the wheat ear, as well as abstract zoological motifs – the fish, the bee, the spider – or representing the daily tools – the hoe, the rake, the plough. Among religious motifs, the cross is the most frequent.

Furthermore, in ancient times the colouring of the eggs was done with natural, plant-obtained colours: red onion layers and beetroot powder for red, yellow onion layers or wild apple bark for yellow, hemlock for green and alder bark for black.

The technique of egg writing is done with melted pure bee wax on whole, washed eggs (or egg shells), using an instrument called chisita – a wooden stick with an attached small cone made of copper at one end. After the writing, the eggs are being coloured. In the end, the bee wax is removed by wiping using a heated piece of cloth, than the eggs are oiled with natural grease for shining. 

bibliography (only in Romanian): http://www.scribd.com/doc/77386809/ORNAMENTICA-OU%C4%82LOR-INCONDEIATE-DIN-JUDE%C8%9AUL-OLT

and a pattern inspired by my constant obsession - Cucuteni Culture... 


Ei bine, anul asta am primit in dar o chisita, dar si “virusul” incondeiatului. Impreuna e mai frumos si mai cu spor, dar si de unul singur e bine. Eu am folosit oua goale, ce pot fi agatate cu panglici in casa ori afara, in gradina, pentru belsug si prosperitate.
Iti multumesc, Szusszanás, pentru asa o mare bucurie! Postarea asta iti este dedicata! 

*** 
Well, this year I received a chisita as a gift, along with the “virus” of egg writing. It’s better to do it together, but it’s also fun to do it on your own. I used egg shells, which can be hung with ribbons as ornaments inside the house or outside, in the garden, for abundance and prosperity.
Thank you, Szusszanás, for such a great joy! This post is dedicated to you!







7/23/2011

Redescoperind Romania / Rediscovering Romania

Cand simti ca locul tau este niciunde, iar pretutindeni este mult prea departe, intoarce-te si bea o gura din izvorul ce te-a hranit inca de la primii pasi. Acasa.
Aseaza-te cuminte pe pamantul cald, asculta vantul. In adierea-i blanda, vei auzi glasurile celor ce ti-au lasat mostenire un nume, o limba si o tara. Romania.

Nu te lasa pacalit de ce vei auzi inainte sa pleci! Si nu-ti lua cu tine bagaje mari si multe: frici, prejudecati, dezamagiri, regrete, asteptari. Odata ajuns, deschide-ti inima, lasa-ti ochii liberi sa rada si sa planga preaplinul dinauntru, si-ti vei reaminti. De tine.

Va fi o calatorie de neuitat.

The moment you feel your place is nowhere and everywhere is so far away, that is the time to go and drink right from spring that fed your very first steps. Home.
Lie quietly on the warm earth, listen to the wind’s whispers. They will carry the voices of those who left you the legacy of a name, a language and a country. Romania.

Don’t let yourself be deceived by what you’ll hear before you go! And travel light: no fears, prejudices, disappointments, regrets, illusions. Once there, open your heart, free your eyes to laugh and cry the overflow inside and you’ll remember. Of yourself.

It will be a journey to remember always.

4/26/2011

Mierla

Minunea unei intalniri, pret de o clipa. Moment de ragaz, intre aici si mai departe...
Din spatele geamurilor inchise, am impartasit, pentru scurt timp, aceeasi tacere.

12/20/2010

speranta

sambata a nins.
cu fulgi mari si desi, ca-n iernile de alta data. ca acasa… orasul si-a imbracat vestmant alb de sarbatoare, copacii si-au agatat cercei de gheata cu boabe mici de vasc rosu. am iesit in strada aiurea si pretutindeni, adulmecand cu narile larg deschise, ca un manz in prima lui iarna.
am mers incet si apasat, scartaind sub bocanci zapada proaspat ninsa. cu fiecare pas, mi-am stins in albul fara pata, dorul, tristetea… m-am privit: zambeam, cu inima deschisa. in linistea deplina, ca de sarbatoare, un macaleandru isi ciripea hotarat bucuria. n-as fi putut cere mai mult!

incet, seara si-a coborat lenes o pleoapa. apoi si pe cealalta. sub imbratisarea sigura a noptii, doua vulpi fermecate alunecau furis printre case. doua cozi stufoase, un mers usor schiopatat. fara sa stim, fara s-o cerem, iarna ne-a adus azi mai aproape. poate si maine, cine stie?...

in casa era cald si mirosea a paine. am copt in ea, laolalta, tihna zilei si iernile copilariei.

sambata a nins. sambata a venit Craciunul…