farewell party - Macane

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farewell party Macane - 6.2.2009 - door: 18:00, start 19:00
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Notice no 1 - As the party will take place in our Zkušebna I had to choose cca 10 friends...I've been thinking about it and the bottom line for this reasoning was that they know me as"Macane". Before my departure,there will be several Martin's party though...


guests:

Ondra - sure it's his house....generously offered to host the party

Adam - no party without this guy...if this party would be a car...he would be THE engine of it.

Jonatan - unavailable - skiing in nekde v Jizerkach...

Bara - always good to meet you and talk to you! Will you be there

Martin Pivman - very good to discuss lot of stuff with you...

Martin II - unavailable - skiing in france...what a pityyyyy...

Miška - long live Miška!

Jay - my dear mate, so glad to know you...i mean it...

Peter Power - you can sleep under the central heating...isn't it what you've always wanted? And bring your guitar with zou

Lenka - I am sometimes very critical, but I DO like your photos!!!

Jeník - always good to talk to you...I need you and your guitar there....can you come?

Jitka - you and your smile can't miss this party

Terka - I think you know what "Fibich" means. You-must-come;)

Kopejda - our great uncle...you rock...all the time...

Vojta - probably unavailable...great garden party with you some time ago;)

Notice no 2 - All Fibich citizens such as Irena, Matej are heartily invited without any reasoning


drink: After some struggle with this, I vote for 1 bottle per 1 guest [to the general satisfaction].
Red, white wine, whiskey, some good vodka preferably


food: I will take care of this part


music: You will hear brand new macane songs composed right for this event. Mainly dealing with...life...You will then be an active part of the great "hit the point" music jam
In the meantime we have got many skillful DJs among us who play to the general satisfaction.


sleep: There is only one rule here....1 spot (anywhere), 1 sleepingbag (yours, should this be a complication, please let me know

Hurried Advent

Hello!!! I have already written that I don't like modern christmas, all that fuss about nothing. I am going to change it this christmas...at least for myself. But in order to be able to change it, I must slow down a little bit. I hope I will this weekend. On Friday, two of my friends are celebrating their birthday. We'll be playing live music, chatting and chatting...On Saturday, Me and Peter Moc are shooting a movie. Actually only one scene in the movie. We'll be singing one of Johnny Cash's songs called Folsom Prison blues. I have been thinking about what clothes should I be wearing and it'll be probably suit, big sun-glasses and tie...I have seen Walk the line for inspiration. I recommend everyone to see it. So this will be my weekend...finally after three weekends, which I spent at home overheating my computer. I am finishing with the beginning of the Folsom song......I hear a train a-coming, it's rolling round the bend and I ain't seen the sunshine since I don't know when. I hope we will see the sunshine this christmas.

On 7th February 2009 at 9:00am I should be on the plane to Loughborough UK. I'm going to spend 5 months there as an Erasmus exchange student ...I've recently realized that it's quite a big deal for me. I have flown only once so far, been only twice to Britain and still walking in my father's shoes. Guess this will be a lesson for me. But there's so much freedom about it, isn't it? I've been thinking it over and over and came to the point when I consider taking care of myself more difficult than taking care of someone else. But I'll hopefully realize that everything doesn't have to be perfect. Sure I need to be prepared properly but I sometimes feel like if I was trying to stop some old vase that is right about to fall to pieces. I mean that it's good for life not to be permanently terrified.I must admit that I envy some of friends who can stay calm when I would never stay calm, who can speak and their voice doesn't shiver.It's quite admirable. But anyway, Loughborough is going to experience one maybe terrified but at same time dreamy boy from Usti nad labem. If only I could create some future flashbacks in order to be sure that this will all really happen. Yes....you're right...I can't...It's actually beautiful about life. He invites us to a ride full of strenght, full of weakness, but above all full of surprises. Good night!!!

The first snow

I remember when I was small I would look at the falling snow for hours. I would count the snowflakes and also let them to land on my hand. Yesterday I looked out of the window and felt nothing. "It's the same every year. Snow in November and in Decemebr nothing,"I just murmured for myself. It's a change, isn't it? Well, even the brightness of the snow isn't so bright as it used to be. I need to take some courses about snow. It has definetely turned into greyness. What a success that one can turn snow into greyness. It's almost miraculous. What a pity that it's much more harder the other way round. But it's worth trying. We should also help the others to get this greyness down...How? Just read what's in the picture.

I have just read 80 pages of The picture of Dorian Grey...
Can you imagine that we would never grow old?? This is a tricky question I guess.It would be very stressful for me to get freezed in one period of life...Doesn't life make sense in its continuity? It's unbelievable how we change though. How many faces and how many contradictory opinions can one have? This leads to another question...Who am I then? Do I exist in unity or am I split up into different but equal me? ...Let's get back to the fact that we grow old...As Shakespeare wonderfully uncovered, we all have certain periods of life...We are born,we are children......We are teenagers and then adults...And after that long period our life is cropped and only what's important remains...And this is old-age, the most precious age.....I have always wanted to peep under the surface....If this growing older will help me in this effort, I appreciate it very much. Good night...

merry Christmas???

I have visited one department store in Ústí recently. I was very disgusted to be honest. All those figures of Santa Clause made of anything but chocolate. You see all kinds of glittering trifles whose designer wants it to be sold by thousands. And that's it. Everything is sold by thousands today. Visual effect has reached its limit of ideal. You only take your small child to this department store and there he is....in Wonderland...But as well as Peter Pan realized the true state of things our small children hopefully will. Isn't it better to teach them to be grateful for every move instead of any other video game? Doesn't it make sense to dig out the real Christmas??? This input is rather my attempt to avoid meeting phenomenon called Consume in everything I'll do at this Christmas. All in all, one thing is clear. The warmth of home and peaceful family is the most beautiful present ever.

Petr Moc is the 2nd Satriani!!!

Yeasterday at 9:15pm I left Usti for the concert of my friend Petr Power the mighty;}
We were 4. Me, Jay-my classmate,Lenka-my schoolmate and Sarka-Jay's friend.Right...we arrived in Decin,where was the concert, at about 9:30. So you can presume what kind of ride it was...vvvveeerrryyyy faaast...but Jay is a very good driver;}. 1st band was called Apatheia from Havirov and I realized I know their guitarist. He's cousin of my best friend, whom I've got a band with. Bands,bands,bands...I liked their playing,but their sound was odd...maybe it was the acoustics of that hall. So after them there was a short break but by that time Petr Power had already been fully concentrated on his "storm". His band's called Baf and that sort of stuff. Pretty suitable name. Altough I didn't like their lyrics their music was fascinating. I very much shivered when Petr did his guitar crescendo...What a harmony....You simply got me to my knees....Petr,if I was a girl...no,nothing. Afterwards everyone of us was given a piece of cake, which Baf bought for their singer Jitka. We got back to Usti at around 3am full of new experiences...Thank you Apatheia,thank you Baf, thank you Petr.

What is reality???

This Friday I was waiting on my philosophy lesson and talking to my friend, when a man in apparently worn-out coat rushed into the auditorium. It was him. Our philosophy teacher.The Plan of this philosophy course is 11 lectures with 11 different teachers, so everytime it's very challenging to guess an appearance of a teacher. This time it was exactly the type you would call "a philosopher" and you would certainly believe that his uncle was Aristoteles himself...
We followed him into the auditorium and than a drama started. Basically the lesson was about our perception of reality and what reality actually is. He brought a red mug full of coffee and started arguing that it is a mug for him, but for someone else it is actually a pot. This teacher was so convincing that I believed it was a mug for a moment and for the next moment I believed it was a pot. Anyway....it must be damn difficult to live a life like this....to admit that there is no universal reality.
His handwritting was of a strange style exactly of a philosopher's one. He was very distracted, but that I appreciate maybe the most. I think that his effort would be spoilt by a whirlwind of some cool philosophical words. Instead of this he used extremely simple vocabulary, but the target was hit.....at least my target. So the conlusion is this.....Reality is complicated but simply describable......The end of my rambling......for today;)

One of my essays and the english translation here;)

Ondřej Váhal

Dnes je úterý. Myslím, že je listopad, ale nevím to přesně. Podle toho, že stromy už jsou holé, myslím, že už listopad určitě bude. Ale vždyť je to vlastně jedno. Jmenuji se Ondřej Váhal. Bydlím v Broumově, v pátém poschodí panelového domu v jedné z okrajových částí města. Měl jsem štěstí. Moje sousedka je velice hodná paní, která se mě vždycky zeptá na to, jak se mám. Myslím si, že někdy to dělá jen ze zvyku. Víte, je zvyklá ptát se každého, koho zná. Dříve se to tak dělalo. No ale je to lepší, když se mě zeptá, než kdyby mlčela. Jmenuje se Alžběta. Tak tedy, bydlím v Broumově, v pátém poschodí panelového domu. Můj byt není moc velký, ale pro mě to stačí. Víte, když člověk žije sám, tak se dovede uskromnit.Dnes by měla přijít Olga. Mám ji rád. Vždycky mi vypere a občas přinese šopský salát a pět rohlíků. Myslím si, že se jí líbím, ale nevím to přesně. Víte, to je pro mě důležité, abych to věděl. Včera jsem sledoval zprávy. V jedné z reportáží ukazovali mrtvou lišku. Jak může někdo zabíjet zvířata jen pro srst? Nechápu to. Nechci to pochopit. Mohla to být liška, která se vracela ke svým mláďatům z lovu. A ona už ji nikdy nespatří. Mě to vždycky tak rozpláče. Někdy brečím třeba tři hodiny. Já vím, chlapi by tohle neměli dělat, ale já to nemůžu zastavit. Úplně mě ty hrozné události pohltí. Někdy, když už opravdu nemůžu, tak si zapálím cigaretu. Olga mi říká, že bych neměl moc kouřit. Prý to je špatné na plíce. Ale já mám tak rád ty tvary, které z toho kouře můžu dělat. Občas se červenám, protože vznikají takové zvláštní tvary, které mi připomínají ženskou postavu.Dnes je středa. Včera ke mně přišla Olga. Vypadala unaveně. Ale popovídali jsme si hezky. Vždycky si tak hezky popovídáme. Vyprávěla mi o tom, co dělá v práci. Musí hodně pracovat. Je totiž zaměstnána v jedné překladatelské firmě. Někdy musí překládat dlouho do noci. To je vždy, když šéf potřebuje něco rychle stihnout a poslat do oběhu. O víkendu čeká Olga babičku. Musí si ale doma uklidit, říkala. Ptal jsem se jí proč. „Aby se babička nezlobila“, říkala. Já jsem svou babičku nikdy neviděl. Jenom dědečka. Pamatuji se, jak jsem k němu ve školním věku jezdíval na prázdniny. Nechával mě starat se o dobytek. Někdy mě pochválil, a to jsem pak byl šťastný. Víte, někdy člověk potřebuje slyšet něco hezkého. Když mi bylo patnáct, můj dědeček zemřel. Byli jsme s maminkou na pohřbu. Jenom si pamatuji, jak rakev zajížděla do jakési díry. Tehdy jsem brečel. Věděl jsem, že svého dědečka už nikdy neuvidím. Nemohl jsem se s tím smířit. Nechtěl jsem. Občas jsem se přistihnul při tom, jak s ním diskutuji o svých problémech a potížích, o svých trápeních.Olga odešla po televizních novinách. Chtěl jsem ji ještě chvíli zdržet, tak jsem jí nabídl sklenku vody, ale ona že ne, že už musí domů. Musela ještě překládat. Tak jsem ji alespoň doprovodil na zastávku. Víte, měl jsem z toho takový divně nucený pocit. Doufám, že ji můj doprovod nijak neobtěžoval. Když autobus, ve kterém seděla, odjížděl, měl jsem stejný pocit jako tehdy před lety na pohřbu svého dědečka. Připadalo mi, že už ji nikdy neuvidím. Opět jsem se rozplakal. V poslední době to dělám víc a víc. Zahalil jsem si obličej šálou, aby nebylo vidět, že brečím a šel jsem domů. Nevím proč se mi to děje, ale mám z toho i radost, protože cítím, že jsou to ty nejupřímnější chvíle, které dokážu zažít.-------------------------------------------------------------------------Andrew Vahal.------------Today is Tuesday. I think it’s October, but I am not sure. I think so,because trees have already shed their leaves. However it is, it doesn’t matter. My name is Andrew. Andrew Vahal. I live in a suburb of Broumov on the 5^th floor in a block of flats. I have been lucky. My neighbour is a very nice woman. She always asks me how I am. I guess it’s typical for her. She is used to asking it everyone she knows. People would do it like that when she was young. Anyway, it’ s better to ask than be silent. Her name is Elizabeth. So…I live in Broumov on the 5^th floor in a block of flats. My flat isn’t very big, but it’s enough for me. You know, when someone lives alone, he can do with it (do just fine).Olga is to come today. I like her. She always washes my clothes and brings sopsky salad with five rolls for me. I think she likes me, but I’m not certain. You know, it’ s very important to me. I watched the news on television yesterday. There was a dead fox in one of the inputs. How come that some people can kill animals only for fur? I don’t understand this, at all. I don’t want to understand. It could have been a fox, which was just returning home to her offsprings. And she’ll never see them again. Such things always make me cry. I cry for 3 hours sometimes. I know, men shouldn’t do this, but I can’t help it. It consumes me totally. When I can’t handle it anymore, I smoke. Olga says that I shouldn’t smoke. “It’s bad for your lungs”,she’d say. But I love the shapes I can create while smoking. Sometimes I turn red. The shapes remind me of a woman’s figure.Today is Saturday. Yesterday Olga came to me. She looked tired. Even so, we had a nice conversation. She told me about her work. She must work hard. She’s employed in a translation bureau. Every so often she has to work until late. It is so, whenever her boss has got many deadlines and is in a hurry. She’s expecting her granny at the weekend and must tidy up at home. I asked her why. “In order my granny wouldn’t get angry”,she said. I never saw my granny. Only my grandpa. I remember I would go to him for holiday when I was little. He would allow me to take care of his cattle. Sometimes he would praise me and I’d very happy. You know, from time to time I need to hear something nice. When I was 15 my grandpa died. I went to the funeral with my mother. I only remember the coffin going into a strange hole. I cried at that time. I knew I wouldn’t see my grandpa ever again. I couldn’t deal with it. Later, I talked to him and discussed my troubles with him.Olga left after the news. I wanted her to stay a little bit longer, so I offered her a glass of wine, but she refused. She had to translate. I accompanied her to the bus stop. You know, I had a strange feeling about it. I hope I didn’t bother her. When the bus ,she was on,was leaving I felt like I would never see her again. I cried again. I have done it more and more ,recently. I covered my face with my scarf and went home. I don’t know why it happens, but it’s actually good. I think that moments like these, are the most honest ones I can ever experience. -

It's saturday today and I guess that nothing special's going on. Ecxept for one thing. My father came home today and heard one song on radio and said: "The world had hope at that time. But today......today is everything messed up." Well, while I was listening to that song with my father, I came to understand what he meant.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3m6z1Q2MkVk