Seedthoughts

Has your day ever lit up with a sudden and unexpected finding? A note in the book you took from the library? A box urging you to pick it up, containing a magic surprise a stranger had left there for you?

This is what seedthoughts wants to get growing!

The idea is to leave around notes, images, boxes and whatever one can come up with.

Purpose? Set people's thoughts and smiles on fire!

http://get-growing.blogspot.com/

Trying to party

I feel like I never became 20 and I actually got stuck into that teen-age.
Today, after an amazing walk and morning conversation, I thought that my problem was solved. I thought I had discovered what it was, and therefore how to solve it.

My problem, my morning thoughts told me, is that I don't have enough fun. Fun for fun's sake, not as a derivative of any activist or making-the-world-a-better-place oriented action. They are fun and rewarding, I will never deny so, but they are not enough. Not enough if one wants to avoid burnout and a general dissatisfaction with the fact that things aren't going that much better in general terms.

So I thought: that's it, I just need to party more! I need to cut down on commitments and to-do's so that I don't feel the need to avoid partying, so to sleep more, so to have more time and energy for everything.
I felt like maybe I was missing that sort of university life everybody seems to have.

I'm even afraid of being drunk. Afraid of losing myself, of feeling ill, of not being able to make the most of my thoughts and emotions.
And the problem is that... that's fine! And yet I still try to dress up, and paint my face, and all of that, so that I somehow fit in the idea of normality circulating around. Maybe so that I forget the need of constant challenge of the status quo. That tiring yet necessary action.

I came back home, I looked into the mirror. And even though I saw a beautiful face enhanced by the skills of dark eye lines, I can't help but feel like a puppet whose show was way too poor, not even the most simple disguise can make me fit.

I know it's all exaggerated by the power of tears and hormones,
and by not having anybody to hug

I know it all doesn't make sense once I truly rationally think about it

I know it's bullshit coming out of a possible lack of self-confidence

but whatever it is,
it still hurts, it still makes me feel vulnerable.
And if I am writing such a personal statement in such a public space, it might be cause I'm ...
i'm just Neus, doesn't that explain it enough?

Long time no see... again!

Some say that those that keep a diary (similarly, a blog) are those who do not have interesting lives. Hence, why would they be spending their time in front of a computer when there are so many other things to be doing?

I have felt a bit like that lately, so many things going on.

Yet, this blog has kept popping into my head. I bet my mind didn't want to lose its last stimulus to (creative) writing.
Andrew said that you sometimes don't even know what you're actually thinking until you write it down.

I am also back because, even though I have started sending out Neus' Chronicles every sunday, they are in Catalan, and I want my English-speaking people to be able to know what is lately going through my head.

I feel clumsy in my writing. It's rusty.
My language anxiety does not help it.
Maybe I can start sorting it out!

Les Cròniques de Neus

Estava escribint açò en el post d'abans, però crec que es mereixia la seua entrada per separat.


Una idea que vaig tindre l'altre dia va ser de fer "Les cròniques de Neus". On, aquells que tingueu interés en saber què tal és el meu dia a dia, rebreu un correu cada diumenge. De vegades llarg, de vegades curt; de vegades només contant coses d'algun dia, de vegades parlant de cada dia de la setmana.
No ho havia fet mai, perquè sempre m'havia basat molt en el blog, i una mena de diari sobre tot el que faig i pense no és quelcom que em pareix adequat per estar penjat a la web, a l'abast que qualsevol persona.
Aixina que, si us interessen les cròniques de Neus, feu-m'ho saber i vos afegiré a la llista!

A mitan camí - una entrada de diari públic

Torne a saludar després de setmanes i setmanes sense escriure.
Evan diu que és bona senyal el no escriure, diu que vol dir que la meua vida real està plena d'aventures.

Tanmateix, jo trobe que aquestes aventures es fan molt més meravelloses compartint-les. I, doncs, mamprenc el bloc de nou, per seguir compartint visions, experiències i pensaments amb tots aquells que, per alguna raó o una altra, no puc fer-ho amb la companyia d'un cafenet o e-mails a sovint.

Aquesta entrada serà una mica caòtica, no tindrà cap fil concret, ni cap tema de criticisme. Depenent de la vostra definició d'entrada als blocs, pot ser considereu que açò és més bé una entrada d'un diari fet públic, més que d'un bloc com cal.

Es per això que advertisc que aquesta entrada no us serà de cap interés a no ser que el que vulgau saber, precisament, siga el que em passa pel cap i com em senc.


Bé doncs, feta l'advertència, em dispose a començar!

Ara mateixa estic a Barcelona, a casa de Teresa Sellés (i la Gonza, Neus Agost i Giulietta). Aquesta tarda arriba Evan (la meua parella, per qui no tinguera notícies recents) en bus des de Madrid, i demà matí agafem un autobús de unes 24h cap a Londres.
Molta gent s'ha sorprés al sentir que a Espanya tornava només 3 setmanes justetes, que tot l'estiu el passaré per Edinburgh i voltants. I la veritat és que jo tampoc no m'ho acabe de creure, tot i que ha sigut una decisió sobre la que hi he pensat molt.

Com sempre, en tinc i no en tinc ganes, d'anar-me'n. Cada dia que passa estic més segura que Edinburgh és la ciutat correcta, que estic a un dels millors llocs on hagués pogut anar a parar, que estic aprenent cantitats immesurables... Però tot això no pot evitar que, cada vegada que torne a casa, el meu cor solte un gemec: "ai..".
Sóc com un arbre d'arrels fàcils i ràpides. Allà on vaig em sé moure, trobar el que m'agrada, involucrar-me fins el cansament més extrem. Aixina que imagineu si tornara a casa per un període llarg, allà d'on sóc natural, a la terra amb les propietats físiques i químiques més adients per a la meua espècie d'arbre... m'arrelaria tan a fons que no seria capaç de moure'm mai més.
Aquesta és la sensació que tinc. I per això em perdonareu, estimats amics, que seguisca uns anys més voltant pel món, altrament pot ser ja mai ho podré fer.

Canviant de tema, a Barcelona vaig vindre dijous, i vaig vindre amb la intenció d'anar a unes jornades d'okupació europea. Vaig anar només al debat de dijous de tarde, sobre la negociació amb les institucions. Va ser molt molt molt interessant, i no comentaré massa perquè és un assumpte que es mereix una entrada pròpia. Tanmateix, no hi he seguit anant perquè em va agarrar un asma horrible per la nit, i faig la suposició que fou el local...

[Llàgrima] Sí, que jo sóc de les que s'emocionen molt, i de seguida. Llegint Público, he vist que José Saramago morí ahir. Per a qui no hage llegit molt d'ell i li pique la curiositat, ací teniu un blog que he trobat amb algunes entrevistes, extractes de novel·les o relats, i articles d'opinió: http://saramago.blogspot.com/

Aquests dies que he passat a Castelló han estat molt bons. No he pogut vore a tothom que m'hagués agradat, però tampoc em puc queixar; perquè no sé com ho faig, que sempre me les apanye per a vindre a les èpoques on la gent està estressada per exàmens i treballs.

Vaig tindre  una conversa interessant amb Maria Marin sobre el facebook, mantindre el contacte, i les amistats del dia a dia. Per als que no ho sapiau, me n'he anat del facebook; aquesta ha sigut una decisió tant personal com de crítica.
Amb sort, també voldrà dir que em passaré pel blog (i pot ser fotolog) més a sovint.

Au cacau
ací ho deixe de moment!

Emotional Guide to Edinburgh

Brief and first description (will get improved!):

The emotional guide to Edinburgh is a project envisaged by Cornelia, and started by her and Neus on a cloudy day in the grass of the Meadows.
Our aims are to create an alternative guide to this wonderful city, beyond any typical touristic approach.
We will do this by trying to get memories, emotions, secrets, feelings... that people have about the city.
We hope to gather these from people from all ages, all sexes and genders, all nationalities and ethnicities, all kinds of everything!!
Positive and negative, wonderful and nasty, magic and mundane... because life is complex and so are our experiences of our "home" or "passing-by place".

And what do we want to do with all these collection of stories?
Two things!
1.Put it up free and accessible for everybody in internet, somehow (we'll figure it out later on).
2.Publish a zine/book (depending on the amount of material we collect) with a collage of everything!

HOW TO PARTICIPATE?

-If you want to give us your memories, feelings, emotions, secrets... either e-mail it to emotionalguidetoedinburgh@gmail.com or leave it a dropbox that will soon be available in The Forest Café (3 Bristo Place).
It'll be lovely if you could give clear addresses and directions of the place to be able to reference it in a map, if a specific place is related to your memory (either a tree in the meadows, somebody's house roof, a monument or a bin).
DEADLINE: 30th of June.

-If you want to get more involved in the project and help us collect memories, testimonies, lay it out it all in the zine/book... then don't hesitate to contact us at the e-mail already provided! (otherwise you can probably find us hanging around in the Forest).

FURTHER INFORMATION
We will post our progress, any meetings, or workshops... in our blog www.emotionalguidetoedinburgh.blogspot.com
So keep an eye on it!

AND SPREAD THE WOOOOORD!!!

=)

Everyday is election day

I tried to embed it, but it just does not want to work.
Have a look, great poetry: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X92f7H1vrJU

by http://adaisythroughconcrete.blogspot.com

Pensaments blancs

M'he emocionat.

I la mar ha aconseguit trencar les barreres físiques i ficar-se dins els meus ulls sense que me n'adonara.

M'he emocionat perquè, asseguda davant la mar, amb el so de l'espuma besant les roques, m'he sentit plena de gent.

Voldria compartir una abraçada i una conversa amb tota la gent que m'estime i que està repartida arreu del món. I no m'entristeix el no poder fer-ho. Seria una bogeria posar-se trista per quelcom que, de fet, sí que pots fer.

Ni un veloç repàs mental de totes aquelles persones que m'agradaria tenir a la vora és suficient per abastir ni una decena part d'aquestes.

I això em recomforta.

Sent la màgia vibrar allà on el cel i la mar fan l'amor per donar vida a aquell qui dibuixa esperances millor que ningú: l'horitzó.

Mire enllà, i a través de dolces llàgrimes, veig somriure tots aquells qui m'estime.

De sobte, estar sola no significa res si sé que ma mare li somriu a la vida, que ma germana segueix lluitant amb valentia, que Lidon fa molt feliç a mon pare, que la gent a Mostar aprofita els últims dies, que Evan es menja el món com si fos un gelat, que Yuval està content a l'exèrcit, que Ruth Mari Emma Veronica Candela Georg Nico ForestVolunteers i tota la resta segueixen escampant màgia pel món amb la seua simple presència, que els amics de Castelló estan contents, que Lale està pagada de la meua bufanda, que Alberto segueix amb el cul tan inquiet com sempre, que el iaio Vitorino, si pot somriure, segur que ho està fent, que la meua germana major... és feliç - de ser i de no ser - d'haver permés que una persona tan meravellosa com jo puga existir a la faç de la terra.

Seria una bona metàfora per a explicar perquè el meu cor és tan gran i treballa at an unsustainable efficiency rate.

This is the power of NOW.

The joy of existing. The love for other people's lives. The peace of knowing that dying know would not make me regret a single thing.

Un somriure, i cap a l'hotel a skypear.

I'm yours

I was thinking about which language to write this post in. Catalan or English? Sometimes I feel like a traitor, when such spontaneous expressions/thoughts like "fuck, I'm cold!" or "right, now I'll..." come up in English.

But, eventually, more than a language-identity crisis, the choice over language for the blog responds more to another question: who am I writing for? For I am obviously writing for people to read me, otherwise I would just keep it in my diary.

And then, over the hotel's radio channel, there was the answer: Jason Mraz's song I'm yours.

The beginning of the tune always puts me in a better mood. Nevertheless, today it managed to make me cry.

I am stuck in this Croatian hotel until Thursday.

Stuck because, even though the wheather is now as amazing as the food, I really want to get back to Edinburgh.

I cannot say that I feel lonely, I have e-mails, facebook and skype; plus, I meet quite often some women (from Liverpool, Sheffield, and nearby Edinburgh) who are a great fun.

But I need my people. I need somebody to give me a long and deep hug.

To find myself among the fabulous P&Pers, to have breakfast with Candela and tea with Georg, to feel the Forest Café through my five senses again and to look after the Old Hat Books in an always-full-of-surprises shift, to enjoy the Meadows grass, to see the city passing by my bike's wheels, to help out Food not Bombs beyond stupid e-mails from this hotel...

It is not too bad though. Because with the extra help of The Power of NOW, I am even happier with life as it comes. I would be insane to deny how nice it is in this hotel, with the beach nearby, the weather getting better and better, and the food being great (all of which makes it difficoult to get down to writing the essay due this friday...).

But, as I said, my heart is longing for its beloved ones. And I'm wondering how much longer will the soothing sound of the sea manage to calm it down.

Even though the waves remind you that time is passing just as they do, the infinity of the ocean makes Thursday look extremely far in the horizon.

So this is why the song gave me the answer. Why I was so happy to leave Mostar after visit present memories.

Edinburgh, I'm yours.