THE GATELESS GATE

19. Ordinary Mind Is the Way

Joshu asked Nansen: "What is the Way?" Nansen answered: "Ordinary mind is the Way." Joshu said: "How can I find it?" Nansen replied: "The more you seek, the more it slips away." Joshu insisted: "How can I find the Way if I am not supposed to seek?" Nansen responded: "The Way you seek is not a matter of knowledge or non-knowledge. Knowledge is illusion; non-knowledge is confusion. When you have really reached the true Way beyond doubt, you will be boundless and clear as the summer sky. Therefore do not ask which way is the right and which way is the wrong one; there is neither good nor bad way.

With these words, Joshu was enlightened.

MUMON'S COMMENT: Nansen was trying hard, yet he was not able to melt the ice of Joshu’s doubt. Regardless the enlightenment, Joshu will require thirty more years to exhaust that meaning.

The spring flowers, the autumn moon;
Summer breezes, winter snow.
If useless things do not clutter your mind,
You have the best days of your life.

AMONG THE ELITE

A newspaper article draw my attention today. There seems to be new elite neighbourhood developing in Ljubljana. An area of nice houses owned by foreign embassies for the ambassadors to live in. Reading the article I have realised our street as well belongs to this elite area.

Our practicular street has always been a humble street. Simple houses, nothing fancy. Outskirts close to the city park, even closer to the forest. We even used to have foxes and deers visiting, years ago. Anyway, it seems we will be surrounded with several residencies pretty soon. I have been observing this elite area growth long before the newspaper got it. First, I guess, huge as well as very guarded American residency appeared. Few meters away, Finland has bought more simple villa. Well, I like the fact I can see Finnish flag in the wind whenever I head for the city. Italians have also decided to move into this area, also Czechs, and now British and Portuguese.

Since it was very sunny and very hot weather (too hot for this time of the year), I went for a walk to pay some special attention to our surroundings. True. There are even more houses rebuilding, growing, changing. Such an elite part of the capital this area is about to become.

However, I think the street I live on will stay humble. Like a simple country girl among fancy ladies. For a long time, the residents here have been facing not so easy life, actually. Nothing elite-like. First bus stop is really miles away. Pretty long walk, especially during icy winters. Quite a huge disadvantage by all means; there are old people living here too. And I guess nothing, totally nothing will convince the city community to finally plan a new bus route (or, better, to rearrange those old ones) with a bus stop somewhere closer. Regardless the new elite diplomatic area here. It seems diplomats are supposed to use cars only.

SOUNDSCAPE MOODS

First of all I need to write I have been touched these days quite since so many of my friends have rejoiced my graduation. Thanks again. To return this positive energy I wish you lots of luck wherever you need it. I have to arrange a party, right? And since I am writing on being touched and stuff like that... a small event happened to me yesterday. Now I am turning egotistic again, of course.

Into my mp3 player I have put GODSPEED YOU! BLACK EMPEROR, Lift your Skinny Fists like Antennas to Heaven album. I haven't listen to this band for a really long time. When the music has started to play I have realised I am about to cry. It was a sudden moment, it has just overcome me. The music is very atmospherical... no lyrics, just a strong soundscape.

Here I am about to write on more melancholic moods only (yep, again); of course there is this other type of music which drives me totally crazy and can put me into a very nice euphoria. Well, back to gloomy doomy. So far I have reacted pretty emotionally while listening to My Dying Bride, especially in the past months. But in comparison to mostly non-verbal Godspeed, My Dying Bride has strong lyrics. Sometimes the music has a cleansing effect, sometimes a couple of their pieces can bring me down. I do not listen to doom metal neither with the purpose to be brought down nor to provoke self-pity, not at all. When I feel like listening to doom metal, I listen to it. However, there are days when I can respond to lyrics as well as to sounds more strongly.

Since I am a dramaturg, I have noticed something. Like that I would have a professional deformation. Movies just cannot touch me. I am aware of the fiction, I see some other, more professional things while watching a movie. I sorta see beyond. So I happen to laugh on a very odd spots (oh, here I so remember Lars Von Trier's Dogville), but this is a laughter which comments the script, the writer's wit and skills.

The point is I have noticed I am seldom really touched by a movie; nevertheless even that happens. However, when it comes to music, when I encounter strong soundscapes, things seem to be different.

ICELANDIC TOILETS

This is it. Today I have been given my papers. Not the exact papers; just a temporary thingie that proves me to be a graduated dramaturg. I will receive the very fancy printed diploma within a ceremony on the 3rd of December. Oh.

Bloody Hell, Jumalauta, prekleto, I don't really know what to do! Where to turn, where to ask for a decent job. I would just need a nice job until next summer. Something to get over these long months. Errr... let me dream for a short while... In an ideal world, I would get a coasy office somewhere. On an embassy, for instance. A coasy office where I could deal with artistic/cultural affairs considering our little country. How about Slovenian embassy in Finland, Helsinki, eh? Just to sorta put together linguistic interests with my true profession. And yes, some dramatrugs do end up in offices.

Stop dreaming now, dear (oh my, I dream about an office!). Well, I have some really serious plans with my future, I surely do. I am aware of my talents well enough - and I won't reveal those plans right now. There is just this practicular amount of time infront of me... However, for these months... dear god, I am so affraid of these months now. For that tourist guide thingie I should do a heavy (and expencive) exam, and if I would pass it (since many people has to repeat it and pay again for it, that is the whole point), there will be no work for my (humble) Finnish skills until April 2007. So it seems.

Some time ago I have heard this radio broadcast. It has spoken about my dear Iceland. Like a presentation of the country it was. There was also a talk about foreigners living as well as working in Iceland successfully. I clearly remember the story of two Latvian girls, let's call them Ilona and Alise. Both graduated in economics, beware. And why have young Ilona and Alise actually come to Iceland? To clean toilets in one hotel in Reykjavik! Yep, cleaners with BA in Economics. I really respect any honest job in this world, I do not have problems with that. The money is what I talk about here, of course. Anyway, I do not recall the exact euro-number of their salary... nevertheless those girls earn much more for cleaning toilets in Iceland as they would at their Latvian home in case of dealing with the stuff they have studied for. With their BA. As Ilona and Alise have said, they had been coping very okay there in Reykjavik. Yep, the number of their salary was nice and high indeed, for Slovenian conditions as well. I guess for other European conditions too.

Cleaning toilets in Iceland... in Reykjavik... so how about that, eh?

Ég er villtur. -> I am lost.

Ég er að leita að almenningssalerni. -> I am looking for public toilet.

Snyrting -> toilets

LEMMINKÄINEN

After the graduation, I have to fight my emptyness. So I will keep writing. Today, I will write on a beloved story that has inspired my new graduation play quite strongly. Here is a painting Lemminkäisen äiti (Lemminkäinen's Mother) by famous Finnish artist Akseli Gallen-Kallela dating back to 1897. On it, one can see Lemminkäinen, a young and handsome hero. His mother, äiti, has had to travel all the way to Tuonela, the land of the dead, to fetch the body of her son from the river Tuoni. Young Lemm has actually been choped into pieces. With the great strength and effort, the mother manages to put the body of her son together. Finally, she brings Lemm back to life!

The motive of Lemminkäinen's mother is probably the most famous motive from the Finnish national lay Kalevala. Click the title to check out the exact rune in English. Lemm's restoration reveals a rebirth of the dead one. The rebirth done through a non-selfish sacrifice of the loving Other; the mother in Lemm's case. Great story, full of hope. The healing power of pure love, no matter how sweet and romantic this seems.

Some time ago a friend very dear to me has given me a postcard. It is clear enough the photo you can observe here is a remake of Gallen-Kallela's Lemminkäisen äiti. Also something this photo-remake has brought to my mind. Once I have got this idea and so I have written a poem in Finnish. Uusi Lemminkäinen (New Lemminkäinen). The theme of the photo as it would resemble my poem just perfectly. When I was given the card I was quite excited. I told to Kalle about the poem, yet I have never given it out to read. So here it is now. I guess I will not be given any other opportunities to publish my poetry in Finnish here in my own country, right? Though I might translate it one day.

The poem has been written on a very early stage of my Finnish lessons. That was also the time I was deeply in writing my new play. Anyway, I hope there is not like lots of mistakes in the text. For all of the readers that do not understand Finnish - well, this is how suomi looks like in a longer poem-wannabe, hehe. And yes, Lemm's story here is told more bitterly as in the great Kalevala original. Now just figure it out...

UUSI LEMMINKÄINEN

Musta joki virtaa keskellä mustaa maata.
Kauan kävelin mustan joen rannalle.
Tiedätkö, musta joki, ketä etsin tätä,
Näitkö hänet keskellä mustaa maata.
’’Kyllä, vieras, tunnen ketä etsit tätä,
Näin hänet keskellä mustaa maata.
Kauan katsoi hän mustalle rannalle,
Ei nähnyt hän käärmettä keskellä vettä.
Hyppäsi se iso käärme mustasta vedestä.
Mene, vieras, olet tässä turhaan; hän ei enää elä.’’
Kiitos, musta joki, kiitos vastauksesta.
Voisitko antaa kuolleen rummiin minulle.
’’Kyllä, vieras, ota hänet, ota kylmän rummiinsa.’’
Niin nousee kuollut rummiinsa mustasta vedestä,
Niin on hänen kuolleensa mustalla rannalla.
Kauan katson häntä; hän on kuin kylmä kivi;
Kauan rakastin sitä kylmää kiviä
Elä, rakas kuolleeni, mustassa vedessä!
Menen mielelläni mustasta maasta,
Kuolleeni vielä elää keskellä mustaa jokia.

NUMBERS AND FACTS

My BA in Dramaturgy as told in numbers and bare facts (random).

1 day: 20.10.2006
1 grade: 10, I totally do not care for grades, but since it is so high... hehe...
1 new play: Severna pravljica (Northern Tale)
120 pages: 77 of those is a play, the rest is the play's explanation
50 euros: for binding the thesis into a book
dark blue covers: see the photo
silver letters on the cover: see the photo
4 years of actual studies: lectures, exams and practice
2 years of thinking

6 years of studies as a whole: 4 active + 2 passive

2 awards: for playwriting

59%: according to one Finnish source, this is a percentage of people having serious mental problems among writers and playwrights (hehe, I have never forgotten this chart I have been sent a year ago)

nerves, nerves, just too much of nerves: see the overdoing section
life sucks
communication skills: these suck as well
1 trip to London: just don't mention that
1 trip to Iceland: well, that was nice
2 trips to Finland: minun on vaikea kertoa siitä

salmari
salmiakki: have eaten some while writing, njam njam
sisu
Kalevala
fucked up relationship(s): errr...errr... friendships included...errr...
sleepless nights
walking alone in glittering winter nights: do I need to explain?
sitting on the sandy shore, staring at the sea: do I need to explain?
emptyness: just overall
feeling self-pity: with pleasure
overdoing: always and everywhere

sensitive: I am very and by all means, this is the price I have to pay for being an artist, I guess (or vice versa)

1 new pair of sweet black boots: a gift I have given to myself, I feel really hot in them, hehe
Finnish language: motivation
movies: quite a lot of these, actually
Tenhi: inspiration, lyrics and atmosphere
Magyar Posse: inspiration, atmosphere
Katatonia: inspiration, lyrics
My Dying Bride: inspiration, lyrics and atmosphere

Korpiklaani, Flogging Molly: ocasional more jolly stuff
missed (metal) gigs
Mumonkan Zen Stories: there is neither wrong nor right way
self-confidence: yep, now it is slightly higher
3 Principles: Chikara da, Yuki da, Shinnen da
7 Forces: tai ryoku, tan ryoku, handan ryoku, danko ryoku, sei ryoku, no ryoku, seimei ryoku
Nanbudo: energy, creativity and special happiness by all means

GRADUATION

My dear friends, I have a sweet secret to reveal. Totally my style, to hide away from the rest of the world, just to deal with some stuff alone. Well, sometimes. Since I am not in the mood for writing any letters, I will just use this blog. And yes, now I will reveal this secret in totally overdone theatrical style. Just behold! Today, on the 20th of October 2006, I was given a title...

Univerzitetna diplomirana dramaturginja

BA in Theatre, Radio, Film and Television: Dramaturgy

My thesis was rewarded grade 10, excellent, the highest possible grade a student can gain at the University of Ljubljana. So now, dear friends, you can congratulate me... finally, right?

Finally, it all went very quickly. Within two weeks; only a week ago I was given the date of my graduation exam. Then it became frustrating, the paper work, design, printing of the thesis and all. Nevertheless, now it is done. Done forever! Well, my private life still sucks by all means, but at least I have passed my graduation with honours...

I am actually the very first, beware, the very first Slovenian dramaturg who wrote ''only'' a theatre play for BA Thesis. A theatre play and a dramaturgical explanation, to be precise. I really wanted to write a theatre play for my final thesis. At least something useful I managed to do: who the fuck wants to deal with that boring theory all the time? Can one put some boring theory on stage, can one make a decent whole-evening entertainment for people out of a plain theory? Nope! So I have been writing a bit longer. Today, I was told that it is perhaps better to write longer: then, better thesis is completed. Good for gaining some further scholarships this highest grade could be. And as two of my total three mentors have also said: as a playwright, I had successfully proved Slovenian dramaturgs could be... creative. I am among those who started to pull the walls down. The old and rotten walls of prejudices; the prejudices that a Slovenian dramaturg only reads other plays, only reads and writes... theory. Yet, the revolution is about to happen! Dramaturg can be and has to be creative artist! Prekleto!

However... no matter how proud I have been at the moments of my graduation exam... there has this huge question appeared. What to do now, dear BA in Dramaturgy? I did follow my heart when I had to choose my profession, I did not think about jobs and all at that time. I have graduated, so what now? It looks like there is no suitable job here, for instance. Except that tourist guide thingie, but that actually does not have much to do with my true profession. So here I am, an outstanding student, a proven and graduated writer/dramaturg with a shitty private life. What to do now, eh? Errr... a sip of salmari, perhaps?

For conclusion, time for some more self-pity. Yep, I feel sad and empty. Like that I have been thrown into a void. Perhaps things will get better and I will throw a graduation party eventually... it would really be so great that all of you, my dear friends, could attend this party... but now I just feel so sad and empty.

TENHI

There is this brief image of a guy Ilmari playing kantele in my new play Severna pravljica (Northern Tale), remember? Heh, do you know, where does this image actually come from? More then a year ago I have been given a DVD with lots and lots of music. Paljon kiitoksia to my great Finnish friend Kalle for sharing these sounds! I have really got so much special energy from this music. There was Tenhi too.

Since then, Tenhi has been with me. Always and everywhere. I have noticed how music inspires my writing strongly. There is no doubt Tenhi has had a huge impact. Progressive rock, folk inspired, if I add sorta professional definition. Much more special sounds, though. So much inspiration I have found within these pieces. Melancholic the music is, however, this is a different kind of melancholy. It suits me just perfectly. Many people consider Tenhi as sad, even if they do not understand the lyrics. Well, for me this is a melancholy that is able to reach beyond sorrow; into the world beyond I can't even find right words to describe. One just has to hear and feel this beyond, I guess. The sorrow which actually cures one's sadness. Offers special kind of support. Calms down trubled mind.

Soft and tender, dark and deep. Väre smells of falling leaves, rustling in the warm autum, in Maaäet I feel the snow melting and the waters running in the chilly spring... Magic, pure magic. As well as the charm of Finnish language, even more beautiful within these pieces. Good lyrics indeed (click the title). The vocal of Tyko Saarikko as it would be the voice of a shaman. And yes, one of the band members is named Ilmari.

Really special magic I can find in Tenhi. When I have finally experienced Finnish nature in all it's mighty, those forests, lakes, ponds, swamps... then, the secrets of Tenhi have been revealed; partly at least. If I only remember me standing on the swampy shore of the quiet Mustalampi...

These days again I have found myself singing Hiljaiseksi lampi jää, Jäljen and Rannalta haettu. I just dare to say Tenhi are among those... seven (let's say seven since this number bears some meanings)... so seven major reasons I would just leave all the errands here, spend the money, go, sit on the plane for Finland... in case of this one from those seven reasons, only to see Tenhi playing live. Will I ever be given such a chance...?

MOVIES IN SOCKS

I somehow ended at the opening night of Suomalaisen nykyelokuvan viikko, The Week of Contemporary Finnish Film. First I was in doubts, should I go at all since I had to make a sacrifice on behalf of one Finnish movie. Errr... I really needed to go out, I feel like getting crazy, being fed up just perfectly with everything. I have been into my thesis, it is heavy; for some reasons these very final meters before one reaches the goal seems the hardest to survive... by all means. I am neither the first nor the last person dealing with final thesis in this time and world, but still.Finally, I sorta got over yesterday's sorrow, I put myself together a bit, and went there.

It seemed that mostly the Finns living here had come to see the movie. Finns or Slovenians attached to Finland from several different reasons. Both missing Finland from several different reasons (more or less), both being (more or less) happy there is something Finnish to see and hear. Okay, if we forget the endless possibilities of internet and the astonishing DVD technology.

Kalle wrote me like the Finns feel prejudices about their movies; they prefer foreign products. The situation seems the same as when Slovenians meet Slovenian movies. Our audience as it would be far more critical towards our own film; still it is true Slovenian movies have gained some more required qualities as late as only few years ago. However, there is a sense of quite big development, and I could speculate Slovenian film will gain more success in the future. Well, financial support is yet another story.

Anyway, this Finnish movie itself was nothing too special. Lapsia ja aikuisia - kuinka niitä tehdään, translated into Making Adoults. Sort of a bitter comedy on relationships; when it comes to Finnish humor, I have noticed it caries seeds of bitterness quite often... am I right? However, after some funny as well as bitter moments, two women friends find out they are actually in love with eachother. Sweet indeed.

That was the movie. Then, the mingling part started. The most interesting part of the evening. So at one point I found myself, pretty much relaxed, chatting in Finnish with some young Finns on languages. Yep, Slovenian is hard to learn; for us too. Or how one can unexpectedly meet Finns everywhere, just like I keep bumping into Slovenians in some weird places (in the middle of Icelandic nowhere, for instance). Or latter, what the fuck is all about those slippers? Well, Slovenians seem keen on using slippers, while Finns do not; they prefer woolen socks. And that the real Finnish man, so the one who really is a man, rides a bike rather than travelling on a bus (bike rules, yes indeed). However, I was very much surprised with that short moment when I realised I had actually been chatting in Finnish - relaxed, as it would be English. Despite the fact I can still encounter problems when it comes uppon the dialect of Turku.

Now to end this boasting - there will be like a row of fresh Finnish movies here to see. No Aki Kaurismäki this time, yet the name Kaurismäki is the main trademark when discussing contemporary Finnish film. Perhaps I will write another, more ''theoretical'' post on Finnish movies (Kaurismäki included) at the end of this short festival. Nevertheless the latest Kaurismäki will be seen here within a month. International Ljubljana Film Festival LIFFE will present Laitakaupungin valot, Lights at the Edge of the City, on the 21st of November. Until then, just click the title of this post... as well as enjoy the very short explanation below.

ELOKUVA -> movie, film (what else)

elo -> life, zivljenje (more ''poetic'', usually elämä)

kuva -> picture, slika

BEYOND

Today, one small and simple event was enough. And down, just down it went again. Though I have been trying hard to keep up the good spirit. Nope, no go, it seems. If somethings are pushed back deliberately, pushed back to be forgotten, pushed back and denied, this nasty stuff will strike and burst out at some totally unexpected moment. So it seems. Fuckin' fed up with this by all means - but what can I do?

Oh, again I feel that I would go and just hide somewhere in the middle of nowhere. A cottage in the midst of the woods... yes, there should be forest. Nobody anywhere, just me and the trees. Silence. Sweet rustle. Meditation. Would I gain back my peace ?

I would know still very well, too very well, that the world is there beyond my middle of nowhere. I would be so aware of that, it seems. I would know there is the world, things going their own way, things changing all the time, there is nothing I can do; this would stay firmly in my mind. Every single moment in that middle of nowhere, I guess. Beyond my sweet nothing I would still feel the rest of the world. And the missing, this would stay. The missing would stay, no doubt. There in that cottage, in the midst of the forest. No escape. No escape possible; one carries her/his own hell within wherever this one goes. Wherever this one tries to hide. Nope, no go.

And what can I do? Still anything left I can do? I feel my words so weak, too weak; no power in my words anymore. I feel like I could split myself into halves; still nothing would change. Things just go their own way.

Time as it would slip through my fingers...

HAPPY LITTLE BOOZER

Last weekend, that nice event happened. Ajda and Meta's party. Thanks again! It was jolly (and Finntrolly); however, for me, it was also a chance to taste somethings. Again.

It is a pure fact that the writer here did not drink - until the very beginning of the year 2006. Why? Beats me. Or let me think... I really can't stand wine; it all starts with the smell. As well as it seems I just don't mind the difference between vine and wine. Wine and me - just no go. Something to do with the fermentation, I guess. But I do like vine as a plant, by the way. Pretty same story is with beer. I am sorry, just no go. Despite the fact I have always been a fan of Ireland and I have also had a chance to see Guinness brewery in all its mighty.

Well, these are biological reasons... I have also been refusing drink since I have seen what can a severe addiction to alco do. Not a jolly thing to write down into a post that wants to be more jolly. But such is reality - and life (it usually sucks, right?).

What is an irony here. My birthday is on 11th November, Saint Martin's Day. I more prefer number 10, but nevertheless... However, in Slovenia this means a day when young wine is (finally) ready to drink. And praised. And drunk in huge amounts. Whole Saint Martin's weekend. Old Slovenian tradition. Young wine and roasted goose. No sauna, unfortunately. So I happen to have birthday on a wine feast... and I just can't stand wine! Since I have become a vegetarian, I can't enjoy the goose either.

Oh, but I can stand things other than wine. And beer. And the goose. At least it seems so. It all started with sweet liquor chocolates. Well, it has started this year and now it goes. Nevertheless I have been a non-alco playwright so far. I have not been drinking even when some severe writers-block occured. Strange indeed.

From my first trip to Finland I brought Salmiakki Koskenkorva vodka. Famous black Kosu. Salmari. Meta's request. Thus, my more serious tasting started. Few sips only - but it was enough. More relaxed, more cynical I became. From my second trip to Finland, I brought salmari again. Now I have those plastic bottles waiting... for my birthday and my thesis-conclusion alltogether. I also remember drinking sweet Estonian liquer Vana Tallin while waiting that train in Vienna. I had this little bottle with me, I felt tired and sad - and so I drank some sips to drown the sorrow down. And it helped. At least a bit. For a few hours.

So now it goes. At Ajda and Meta's party, I discovered Baileys. Chocolate, vanilla, sugar, njam njam... whiskey?! Irish whiskey?! Irish cream. Alright then. Few sips. I have traveled to Ireland, I have seen how whiskey is made, I have even brought real Irish whiskey home - but I did not taste it. Too bad.

I do not plan to become sever drinker, though. No nay never (as the Dubliners sing)! Still I do tolerate alco in reasonable amounts and on weekend parties. Hei, red wine is even considered healthy, lots of good stuff for the body in it - in reasonable amounts. However, alco has been discovered almost at the very beginning of our civilization... it has always been here and it will always be, I guess. With me this ''drinking'' I do and describe here is more like - okay, let's see now what this famous alco-thingie is all about.

One just should not overdo the alco. No nay never. Yes, it can cure the pain sometimes, and one can forget all the shit in life. Yet the pain is back quickly, right? Horrible stuff can happen when alco-addiction rules; I just can't write better or more bitter on alco-addiction here.

Back to the moode now. For an ending, I have chosen a recipe I had been given in Ireland. It is a recipe for pure Irish Coffee as they make it at The Red Fox Inn, Glenbeigh. Been there, not taste the coffee. Perhaps now the time has come I should make it myself and taste it... in reasonable amounts.

Joe's recipe for Irish Coffee is as follows. Take a steamed
glass, pour in a 4/4 gill (standard measure), or 4 table spoons of Irish
Whiskey. Add 2 tea spoons of brown sugar and boiling coffee to within 3/4 inch
of the top of the glass. Stir briskly until sugar is completely dissolved. Add
cream, lightly whipped and pour over the back of a tea spoon so as the cream
will not sink. To enjoy the full flavour of your Irish Coffee, do not stir when
cream is added.

And as they say cheers in Ireland - sláinte!

HAIKUHETKI

Keltaiset lähdet
Unohdin minut
Tiella

Zlato listje
Pozabila sem se
Na poti

A WORD IS A WORD

These words are not here to change the world. One can change the world, for instance, to start using these new biological-waste-only containers the street I live on has just been given. But this blog here... well, I don't know.

I have no lies or truth in what I say

there is no meaning

the words are numb and I am so afraid

there is no meaning

The Future of Speech happens to be among my favorite Katatonia songs. I still believe in words, though. Even too much. I take everything too serious. Jokes as well.

I so believe in the meaning of words.

When people meet, usually this question follows- how are you doing? A question which, in theory, enables many answers. However, most of us would say - okay. Even if we do not feel that way. Or - okay, but it could be better. Then, I guess, the conversation about one's state is (usually) finished. We all remain with our own feelings, with our own troubles. We close ourselves. And put on that happy there-is-nothing-wrong-with-me face.

Why is this how are you question needed at all? Do we really care how the other one is doing? Would we help the other one if she/he would burst into crying suddenly, when expressing her/his state... do we actually ask the other with the purpose to help her/him... or to rejoice with the other, in case of a happy answer?

I write in general here; perhaps I write a collection of some superficial thoughts. But I have been thinking about this a lot.

The power of words. The meaning of words. The emptiness of words...

Maybe I am in a bitter state at the moment; I have felt sort of trashy these days. And I still feel trashy. But I am afraid too. I am afraid that this how are you doing question has turned into an empty phrase. We actually don't care how the other one is doing. It is just a necessity one has to ask when it comes upon a conversation. A courtesy. Empty courtesy just everywhere.

Life is too full of empty phrases.

Underneath, real and bloody stuff is hidden. Real and bloody stuff floats hidden under the shiny cover of courtesy, as dangerous and destructive volcanoes are hidden under those glittering glaciers in Iceland.

The words get caught into emptiness - even when one really tries to express some meaning...

Words are losing their power. Words are losing their meaning.

Can one still believe into the words of the other? Can one still believe into her/his own words?

Ruosteiseksi kieli, sanat vaskisiksi... (Tenhi, Jäljen)

PLAYING THE TOURIST

Today, I was supposed to go for a trip. A whole day trip to Bled and Bohinj. Two lakes, mountains and that stuff. If there will be a place in the van. Finally, there was no place in the van left for me, and so I stayed here. Perkele! The weather today is really fine. I have also felt a bit depressed in the past days; I would really need to free my mind with something totally different. The trip would be all about future job-possibility, though. Would one ever get a decent job as a dramaturg? Heh?

It seems I have been given an option to use my Finnish language skills. This big Slovenian travel agency has been looking for Finnish speaking people being interested to work as tourist guides for the Finns. And there is not like lots of us, Finnish speaking Slovenians. Thanks to Finnish teacher Matti, I received an e-mail. So I answered to this mail, got a phone call, and went to the meeting.

First, I have to follow some tourist guides doing their job. Too see how things go. If there is a place in the van for me, of course. Nevertheless I have already managed to participate in one trip - the Ljubljana sightseeing.

An experience indeed. There was a group of approximately thirty older English-speaking tourists. A young Slovenian lady as their guide. It was very good for me to see how a guide actually works - but it was even more interesting to hear all that touristic stuff about my country. And my city, the capital. Well, those tourists happened to utter ''oooh'' and ''aaah'' quite often.

Oh, did you know Slovenia is the only country in the world that has a word love within its name? How sweet! Well, Finland as Suomi has suo, the swamp...

I really like to travel - with Lonely Planet in my bag. I like to see the cities, I like to get some stories about the cities, even more I am fascinated with the nature. I also notice something when I happen to live abroad for a longer period. I always want to feel the spirit of the city. I start to feel it, then I sort of melt with it. Playing the local. In Finland, for instance, this being-a-local went very well... even unintentionally.

Back to Ljubljana sightseeing. Living all my life in Ljubljana... I have spotted some touristic stuff I have never heard neither thought about. I have seen my city in a different light. I have heard some facts I have had no idea before. For some moments I have felt as I have also been a foreigner. I have started to observe Ljubljana with the ''eyes'' I usually use when travelling abroad.

Oh, did you know we have our main square named after our greatest poet? Not some soldier or a politician - a poet. We seem to be so poetic, arts loving nation. How sweet! (Weepers we are indeed - and drunks too.)

Now I will see how my ''career'' as a tourist guide will continue. Can't say more on this yet. If I want to get an official license, I will have to attend a pretty hard exam. History, geography, ethnology. But I would really like to make my Finnish skills more useful. And get some additional income.

Few days after the trip I went to take some photos of Ljubljana. Playing the tourist. But still... I have never been really attached to my city. Neither to my country. Your home is where you feel good, I once was told. And I feel good in some other places as well.