Wannabe Crònica

A principis d'hivern vam començar a fer proves d'exàmens de Selectivitat a Llengua Catalana. Aquell dia havia acabat abans d'hora un exemplar on hi havia una crònica titulada Estrelles i Diamants a Nova York que em va barrufar molt (sí, Lara, me l'has enganxat. Gràcies :P), i enduta per la inspiració i pels records frescos d'unes vacances ben merescudes a Romania vaig començar a escriure el que llegireu a continuació.
Aquest escrit va començar volent ser una imitació de l'estil de la reportera que l'havia escrit, Bibiana Ballbè. Malauradament, en el procés d'escrit crec que ha evolucionat un pèl i no sé si acaba de cenyir-se al gènere de crònica.

Dedicat als meus dos acompanyants d'aquella nit, el Daniel i la Georgiana, i és clar, al meu professor de Llengua Catalana i Literatura, Jordi! Sé que m'he fet esperar, però aquí ho tens!

Without further ado...

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Fa fred. Estic segura que tinc el nas més vermell que el color del cel ara que es pon el sol, i fa estona que he deixat de notar les orelles. Quins acudits, recollir-se els cabells en aquest clima! Ara bé, és poc pràctic patinar sobre gel amb la cabellera solta.

L'aire és fresc i pur, quelcom  normal i esperat aquí, però la seva fredor crema en inspirar a través del nas. Cada cop que surt aire per la meva boca es forma un nuvolet tímid que ben aviat es congela sobre la bufanda que porto cobrint-me mitja cara. La temperatura és hostil i agressiva, però la pista està plena de gent gaudint dels encants de l'hivern.

Ara que ve la nit, és interessant veure quin tipus de gent es queda més estona, i qui marxa. Mares o pares surten per la porteta carregant un nen petit, o agafats de la mà de criatures cansades. En picar de peus al terra de goma per espolsar el gel enganxat a la fulla del patí el deixen ben brut, i segurament relliscós.

Els que queden som persones ben diverses. Ben a la vora un xicot patina pacientment i lenta al costat de la seva noia, que s'aferra més a la tanca que no pas a la seva mà mentre aprèn a patinar. De tant en tant el noi, tot murri, s'aprofita de la seva inestabilitat per agafar-la per la cintura o abraçar-la per darrere. Que bonic.

Donant voltes per la pista incansablement hi ha la parella experimentada que sembla fer-los-hi la guitza mentre salten, donen voltes a l'aire i cauen, amb tal gracilitat que no semblen fets de carn i ossos, sinó de goma. Una mica més enllà, lents i agafant-se de la mà - que romàntic, penso -, hi ha un senyor i una senyora grans que patinen amb prou elegància. Com enganyen les aparences!

I jo... jo he vingut amb una amiga i un amic, però tots tres ens hem separat, cadascú al seu ritme. De tant en tant, patino al costat de la meva amiga tot xerrant, i després coincidim tots tres en algun lloc de la pista. Llavors comentem la jugada d'algun patinador, o l'estat del gel. Després d'una estona descansant i xerrant, tornem a voltar...

Al centre de la pista hi ha un grapat de nois joves que aprofiten l'espai lliure per experimentar i fer una mica el ruc. En diuen free style. Entre ells hi ha el meu amic, amb els pantalons tant mullats de les vegades que ha caigut que m'agafa fred només de veure-ho.

Segueixo donant voltes tot i observant, de vegades lentament, atenta als moviments tècnics d'algun expert. D'altres, al ritme de la música, perduda en algun món imaginari, inconscient del que m'envolta. Llavors desperto. Miro i em fixo en el que hi ha al meu voltant, notant-ho tot, cada olor, cada rialla, cada moviment, cada onada d'aire glaçat, i resto convençuda de la idealitat del moment, sabent que estic en el lloc i el moment perfectes.

Somric a l'aire.

Qui té el peix?

1. Hi ha cinc cases, cada una d'un color diferent. En cada casa hi viu una persona, cada una d'una nacionalitat diferent.
2. Cada propietari prefereix una beguda, fuma una marca en concret, i té una mascota que cap altre propietari té.
3. QUI TÉ EL PEIX?

Fets:

• El britànic viu en la casa vermella.
• El suec té un gos.
• El danès beu te.
• La casa verda està a l'esquerra de la casa blanca.
• El propietari de la casa verda beu cafè.
• La persona que fuma Pall Mall cria ocells.
• La persona que viu en la casa groga fuma Dunhill.
• El propietari de la casa del mig beu llet.
• El noruec viu en la primera casa.
• L'home que fuma Blends viu al costat del propietari d'un gat.
• El propietari del caball viu al costat de l'home que fuma Dunhill.
• El fumador de Bluemasters beu cervesa.
• L'alemany fuma Prince.
• El noruec viu al costat de la casa blava.
• El fumador de Blends té un veí que beu aigua. 

Apa, qui s'anima? :D

Sonet 116

Let me not to the marriage of true minds

 Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove:

O no! it is an ever-fixed mark

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark,

Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

Within his bending sickle's compass come:

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

If this be error and upon me proved,

I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

- William Shakespeare

Concierto de Aranjuez - Adagio

This is one of the best versions I know of the Adagio in the Concierto de Aranjuez. It's played by Paco de Lucía on the guitar.

Aranjuez,

Un lugar de ensueños y de amor,

Donde un rumor de fuentes de cristal

En el jardín parece hablar

En voz baja a las rosas...

Aranjuez,

Hoy las hojas secas sin color

Que barre el viento

Son recuerdos del romance que una vez

Juntos empezamos tu y yo,

Y sin razón olvidamos...

Quizá ese amor escondido esté

En un atardecer,

En la brisa o en la flor,

Esperando tu regreso

Aranjuez,

Hoy las hojas secas sin color

Que barre el viento

Son recuerdos del romance que una vez

Juntos empezamos tu y yo

Y sin razón olvidamos

En Aranjuez, amor,

Tu y yo...

These pictures are of my very first and were taken with my first camera ever. I had no photography experience back then (I was not yet thirteen), but to me they're still beautiful, and they bring back good, fun memories. :)

The New World Symphony

Originally the Symphony No. 9 in E Minor "From the New World", Op. 95, B. 178, composed by Antonin Dvořák in 1893.
It is divided in four movements: I. Adagio (min. 0:00), II. Largo (min. 12:07), III. Scherzo (min. 24:14) and IV. Allegro con fuoco (min. 31:29).
My cousin Eli introduced me to this composer a year ago, and I have enjoyed his music very much since then. :) I hope you like this Symphony, if you have the patience to listen to it full!

Ma Vlast: No. 2. Vltava

Recently I have been (re)discovering many composers, singers, and musicians. Music usually makes studying so much more bearable, and as these past couple of weeks and the coming ones have been and will be studying 24/7 (with occasional breaks in order to eat and, maybe, sleep), Spotify, Grooveshark, YouTube, and so on have been extremely active on my computer.

One of such re-discoveries has been Bedrich Smetana. Therefore, I leave you with one of my favourite pieces by him. :) Enjoy!

P.S.: One of my projects in this summer's bucket is to learn to play the flute part in this piece. :)

Schubert's Serenade

♥

To Whom It May Concern...

Take my hand, we'll walk a while and talk a while... 

Feel my love, always there beside you... ♥

Sarah Brightman & Fernando Lima

Sarah Brightman is a recent "discovery", so to speak. I have known about her for a veeeeeery long time, but I didn't like her music very much before (except a couple of pieces) because I couldn't find anything spectacular about her voice. Lately I have listened to some other songs she's sung and have been finding interesting aspects about them.
Therefore I will introduce you to one of my recent favourites. Hope you like it!

Hehe

Mummy has a habit of posting on her blog her children's funny quotes. Among them are some of my "accidental" sayings. So, I think it's time I did the same.

Last weekend Mum and I were together in the kitchen talking. I don't know what she said or did to make me say this, but somehow I found the reason to exclaim in admiration, "Wow, Mummy, when I grow up I want to be like you!"

To which she replied, "You don't have to be grown up for that, because I was already like me when I was like you!"

Silence followed in which we looked at each other with a puzzled look till what she had said sunk in and we started laughing.

So there. :P

Pastlife Melodies

I may have already posted this video, but I shall repeat it, as it never ceases to impress me. Such harmonization, control, timing, toning! It's amazing. *-*

Mum has fun...

Friends are for giving presents to.

(This is what happens when one gets a little forgetful...)

Falling Snow

See the pretty snowflakes

Falling from the sky,

On the wall and housetops

Soft and thick they lie.

- Anonymous

I am currently teaching my little five-year-old girl this part of a poem during our English lessons, and she is so good at it! She is so enthusiastic about English, and has such an amazing, sweet English accent... 

Xoc's Story

One day, as I very obliviously walked into the kitchen minding my own business, lost in thought and seeing no one even though there were people in the kitchen (that's what happens when I lock myself up in my mind), two pair of very brown eyes snapped me out of my world.

Xoc had been looking at me surreptitiously, hoping I wouldn't notice him sitting there, very suspiciously hiding something in the corner of the pencil box. Curious as I am, I asked him what was he up to, to which he answered "nothing" looking at me innocently. Of course, knowing him as I do, and knowing his special partiality to chocolate I pressed forward.

Now, Xoc knows how to plead, and begged me not to insist, because otherwise he would loose it. Because I really wanted to know what was it, I told him I would keep it a secret. He hesitated, but in the end he told me he'd trust me.

He was hiding a chocolate biscuit in the corner there. Uncle S., my brother, was around and wanted to steal it from him to tease him, so he was trying to keep it secret. I assured him I would be as silent as silence, and he need not worry. 

Uncle S. never found out and Xoc was able to eat his precious chocolate biscuit. [smile] See? I can keep a secret safely.

Memories

Sometimes you accidentally stumble with an old link fro years ago. You think to yourself, "Aw, I used to like this song very much!" but really underestimate the recollections it comes along with.

The waves of memories that rushed over me when I clicked the "play" button were overwhelming. *-*

Victor Borge

He really needs no description. [laughs]

Sending You to...

... Lady Violet's Garden, 

where my Mum has started a blog! :D

Veggie Emotions

This week has been a wonderful one. It has been stressful with several exams and a lot of homework and projects and essays to give in, but (among other things :) an e-mail from my mum can definitely cheer up the day! She sent me this link, and just to show you what I found...

Titled "Cosas de pingüinos"

Titled "Aprendiendo a leer"

Titled "Pollito"

Etcetera... :)

Mountains and Sea

Wherever I looked, my surroundings were beautifully green and vivid, but also uncomfortably humid and stuffy. A constant, light drizzle insisted on falling as we made our way towards my friend’s grandmother’s old finca. As I was climbing the steep, rocky path with my black backpack stuffed with clothes, two books, a Bible, and several other things on my back, and carrying a heavy bag full of kitchen utensils, first with my right hand, and then with my left, all the time I was singing the habanera “Mare, Vull Ser Pescador” in my head. Sometimes I would forget myself and even sing out loud. “A un poble de pescadors, entre el mar i la muntanya…”

I have no idea why that particular song was stuck in my head. I was going up a Colombian hill, and the surrounding area, steep, grassy, rocky and alive with different sounds and colours could hardly remind me of the seashore. It was too far off that picture. However, on I trudged, short of breath and sweating, or glowing, as my Mum would say, under the layers of extra clothes, but happily murmuring “Mare, vull ser pescador, vull ser pescador i no frare, que sóc fill de pescador, i malgrat el teu dolor jo tinc les venes salades… mare, vull fer-me a la mar, mare, vull fer-me a la mar, i que em bressin les onades…”

No one seemed to mind my breathless humming.They probably didn’t hear it, anyway. Everyone was too busy carrying their load and minding not to slip.

Such a walk! Such an experience! Still, the most vivid memory of it all, besides the spectacular flowers and the exertion of that loaded twenty minute trek uphill, was singing that song and wistfully remembering the beautiful, lulling sound of the foamy waves crashing on the shores back home.

:D

As winter break approaches and I look forward to my next trip, I also am very excited about the free time it will provide, free time which will be used to work on this autumn's pictures!
I have been so busy studying these three months I have hardly had time to spend on other things. This is why most of the summer pictures from Colombia and most of the pictures I've taken lately have not yet seen the light of day. So much so that I have not even gotten the SD card out of the camera to check out the pictures I've taken these past two months.
Oh well! That will soon change, hopefully! :D You should soon visit my photoblog, just sayin'!