wonder toy

Jelly thoughts live in her mind. They tremble with excitement,randomely changing colours and shapes; as if there were nothing surrounding her,as if she lived in a revolving door.
She keeps on moulding reality in her tummy,joyfully gobbling it upfront. Her tummy bakes reality into chocolate muffins,in order to feed her pretty dolls. That is why,every once in a while at morning time, her tummy aches.
She wears husky eyes,goldy locks and very red&chubby cheeks.
I got her as a present from mom; she takes Santa for granted and she's my wonder toy.

entice

cry,cry not-lie,lie not about shimmering temptations. temptations never come alone,they carry scary hunches about tastes,perfumes and gestures.
we were brought here in order to entice and be enticed. that is why our grins are putting on delicious wolfish smiles.
the hermits are the blessed,enlightened ones,dealing not at all with skin,lines and curves,which get us dizzy with shallow displays of bodies. take bare shoulders,for instance;they mean candy. therefore,taylors made up strapless evening gouns for fancy,bony ladies. such pieces of cloth make us deal no more with grasps of semiotics.
steeping into lust with bare feet makes us happy.
there's no music in sheer happiness because hapiness is deaf.
hapiness looks sharp,tastes sweet and sounds like savage screams.

ekklepto

cum poate ceva vechi sa persiste ca nou?
sa te gadile,sa te pipaie meschin,sa te faca sa chicotesti,sa rosesti,sa'ti musti degetele,sa'ti rozi unghiile.
cum poate ceva sa se mute in ceasca ta de ceai ,indiferent de ceasca,indiferent de aroma ceaiului,si sa locuiasca acolo fara a plati vreun soi de chirie?
si apoi sa se stearga de culpa cu manseta camasii tale.
sa ia forma unei sugative de scoala primara si sa te transforme in stilou chinezesc cu pompa de cerneala stricata; sau a unei rasnite si sa te prefaca in bob lucios de cafea si sa te lase sa te centrifughezi in deriva?
cum poate ceva sa manance doar nucile si stafidele din cozonacul bunicii? si sa te imbrace ridicol in balerina de cutiuta muzicala,stergandu'se intermitent cu manseta ta.

Doll Face

A machine with a doll face mimics images on television screen in search of a satisfactory visage. Doll Face presents a visual account of desires misplaced and identities fractured by our technological extension into the future.

Weissman's Neighbour(Соседка Вайсмана ) -Russian Animation

Once a misfortune happened with Mr. Weissman -- it was in 1968. In 2006 his neighbor came across the same incidents. How could she change the course of events? Maybe, time is the cause of everything?
Когда-то господину Вайсману не повезло -- это было в 1968 году. В 2006-м его соседка оказалась жертвой тех же явлений. Как ей удалось изменить ход событий? Может быть, все дело во времени?
Director: Rosa Gimatdinova.

trenulet

si bunica de meserie se ocupa de surprize.
bunica punea atat de mult zahar la prajituri,incat nu intelegeam prajiturile de la cofetarie.
si bunica imi ambala in fiecare an cadourile. in fi-e-ca-re an. le ambala in aceeasi folie de ambalaj din anul precedent. dar nu conta,erau minunate fiindca erau ambalate. ma deprinsesem sa le desfac cu grija.
si nu exista puls mai nebun decat acela cand, sub ambalaj,in fosta cutie de biscuiti a bunicului,am gasit Trenuletul.
alveolele pulmonare au absorbit lacome si fericite tot oxigenul din camera.
am explodat in beatitudinea visului implinit al copilului androgin.
eram convinsa ca nu's baietel. la fel de convinsa eram ca nu's fetita.
miroseam in mod constant a puii de catel,cu care dormeam la pranz in spatele blocului,si a groapa de gunoi din cartier,pe versantii careia simteam adrenalina in coborare pe capacul de veceu.
si veneam acasa,unde bunica ma pupa de la intrare pe nerasuflate,si ma scufunda in cada mereu deja plina cu apa mereu prea fierbinte.
si stirile de la ora zece erau soundtrack.
si mult sapun.
si apoi,dupa c ma stergea cu prosopul zgrumtzuros,imi rasfata pielea corpului necopt in ulei de iasomie.
si genele mi le intindea cu ulei de ricin ca sa'mi creasca "lungi pana la sprancene".
si'n tot timpul asta zambea. zambea mereu. pana cand m'am facut domnisoara,nu am stiut cum arata bunica fara zambetul intins pe cei mai rosii si grasani obraji din cati exista.
si daca nu spargeam nicio cana din setul chinezesc indigo de cobalt,cu trandafiri roz cu tulpini aurii,seara reasambla cu mine trenuletul electric.
si zaceam cu compot de visine intre palme ore intregi(pana se racea ,si'asa nu imi placea cald), hipnotizata de ciclul in miscare al sirului de vagoane confectionate din plastic si tabla.
si zgomotul trenuletului,in recurenta lui de melodie eclectica, imi devenise cantec de leagan.

sunt o rodie

imi plac orele fixe si initialele cu carcei.
conceptul de precizie,intins spre perfectiune,precum o guma de mestecat deja rumegata si regurgitata pe asfalt intr'o zi torida. pe traiectoria dinspre precizie catre perfectiune,cultivand,la un voltaj tulburator,conceptul de estetic.
pendulez ruseste intre instinctual-abnegatie-rational-egocentrism.
sunt o rodie.
o coarda de instrument vetust,sensibila la cele mai absurde&imperceptibile vibratii.
o retina,a priori inzestrata cu un simt acut al detaliului,platit cu supliciul inregistrarii oricarei nuante.
constientizandu'mi instinctul,prelucrandu'l in intuitie, pe cale empirica,din ce in ce mai extins.
sport extrem nascut din incapatanarea plasarii eudaimonismului alaturi de hedonism,intr'un melanj ambrozic,dulce-amarui.

in brackets,thy kingdom come!

i eavesdrop to my bones.
they used to carry me in rapture when showing off under my transparent complexion.
my veins have been endeavouring for supremacy eversince i was more or less a little girl,asking too many questions.
i've got tindrums instead of ears; that's how she made me up.
she tossed the coin,choosing neither heads nor tails.
i came out dancing-screaming-scratching my nose-pondering-wielding-demanding banana charlotte at midnight hours-constantly doing my hair.
fairytales attached to me some curly mind and a ladder to the moon.
i let my bones take the office once more and my mind thrive with figments.
i'll be displaying perfect rules of contact,feeling at ease with tedious people and mundane regards.

plunder

messed up hair isn't an unbearable medusa standing on top of one's head.
freckles,dimples,unsimetrically disposed beauty marks; those mean beauty.
can't swallow jolly sounds&syllables i find in my throat from my morning playlist.
i love wearing embroided gloves. flip the bird whether citizens find those outrageous.
can't straighten up my lips when i'm down the street alone,if i feel like randomely smiling. i'll let my lips make me look as if i were a bloody,happy psycho with simian features.
i like to buy myself a strawberry-flavoured lollypop whenever i feel like doing so.
i like to eat it in the subway,on my way back home at evening time,regarding the people nearby as if i were watching cartoons.

zoom

ca'ntr'un montagnerusse.
bucatele de mozaic turcoaz desprinse din ansamblul in care au fost angrenate initial,miscandu'se digitalizat in vortexuri plurifatetate in jurul propriului trup.
regresez pentru un timp scurt in embrion si fac tumbe.
chipurile dragi mi se infatiseaza sinestezic,extinse in zambete vanilate.
particule organice freamata in tipuri de roci ce se succed stroboscopic. margelele mele de jad zac suspendate,in forma unui paianjen.
dau zoom pe calea lactee din exterior; surplusul de perspective devine un element pretios pentru configurarea unor noi proportii,germinate in integrarea entitatilor deja cunoscute,in cadrul unui nou sistem de referinta.
standardul dimensional contemporan al locuintelor devine hilar.
propria casa ia dimensiunea unui medalion cubic foarte cochet,penduland intre sanii mei.
inelarul si indexul mi se dezintegreaza in dansuri spiralate.
o multime de citrice se autodecojesc in melanjuri parfumate.
velocitatea caruselului dezvaluie parnasuri proaspete in continuare.

clay pigeon (milos tomic)

de parfum

sunt atatea sticlute de parfum..
cand te poti decontextualiza din propria persoana.
a te lasa pe pilotautomat si a te privi ca pe o entitate distincta. a te ridica demiurgic si a te privi in circumstanta curenta.

cand te simti ca o sticluta de parfum,cu design futurist,cu structura dinamica,la al carei continut o mana alchimista picura gradual apa,diluand gramajele ingredientelor initiale,reactia chimica emanand un gaz din ce in ce mai plat.
cand moleculele continutului sunt invadate de molecula de apa cu structura monotona.
cand alcoolul nu mai are de ce sa se sublimeze.
pana cand importanta este atribuita exclusiv sticlutei de parfum.
pana cand continutul sticlutei se mai remarca numai in cazul in care asupra lui se exercita vibratii calculate,fapt in urma caruia continutul cunoaste valuri ritmate. muzica sa faca presiunea sa creasa in interiorul sticlutei,ca dopul sa sara violent ca o supapa de obiect gonflabil.
o alta mana sa puna dopul la loc.
prima mana sa nu mai reuseasca sa scoata dopul.
esenta vaga din interior sa ramana pastrata chiar si in concentratie drastic scazuta.
sa aminteasca fragmentat nasurilor fine parfumul serafic initial.

trick me

would you scratch my leg and listen to my watermelon songs,softly speak to me and nod my questions?
you're kindly asked to lie about approving of my very lofty ideas&idiosyncratic outlook. frown your eyebrows and make mines dance.
buy us a gingerbread house to live in.
feed me scarlet,sour cherries and make me blush for not wearing any underwear beneath my pants.
at night time,let me sleep at the other edge of the bed,and please try not to move your feet too much.
I'll be so missing your nose by dawn..
when you wake up,turn me inside out and kiss my cheek.

let it swim

one may choose swimming instead of walking. swimming while still wearing shoes like the unearthy number of the other people. you might think his/her body would simply adapt,and they might grow a mermaid tail,but,mind you..you would wrong Reality.
if one finds fluids much safer,as it takes much longer to crumble and reach ground,the walking people would tend to so very scold and tackle such an inappropriate naughty citizen. they would sift that blurry mind of his and purge it of such intollerable outlook. blank would feel much neater and there would be no risk of futile epiphanies,inasmuch as clear minds are the thriving ones.
and one would run and hide after having sipped some plum brandy upfront. and one would careen with pirouettes in cosy,blue water,floating on separate corridors of avenues,especially designed by&for swimming people,concealed from the eye of other lucid viewers. tarnish,silky,wet garments would emulate the blow of the wind.there would be neither opened pores nor skin irritations.

asa visezi daca-i citesti inainte de culcare surioarei povesti nemuritoare.

a fost o data ca niciodata un nicaieri unde ningea cu puf de papadie; iar soarele se intrevedea lenes prin dansul particulelor cu masa neglijabila. in acest taram,oamenii nu aveau niciodata grija sa inchida strasnic usile propriilor colibe asimetrice din piatra ,intrucat asezarea se afla in panta. panta nu apartinea niciunui deal. astfel, de sus in jos,pe unghiul bland inclinat,se propaga domol si rar cantecul fluierului si naiului flacailor,cand se odihneau,la amiaza. uneori,sunetele se reverberau in stancile batrane,incantand din a doua incercare si urechile cu timpanul erodat de timp. clopotele de la gatul vitelor pestrite intonau dezacordate hazardul,in ritmul caruia dansau nestanjeniti pufii.in diminetile cu roua,un parau curgea curat,armonizand vuietul gospodinelor ce desertau dintr'o oala in alta laptele gras,ce imprastia aburi diformi. gospodinele purtau obraji durdulii si rosii,iar parul nu mai contenea sa le stea sub marama.

chiromantie a chipului

"Visions of europe" (Bela Tarr)

prin validarea mai multor perspective,chipul constituie mai mult decat spunea Levinas. alteritatea este cu atat mai pregnanta,cu cat simtul vazului este pus la dispozitie.
cred intr'o ~chiromantie a chipului~
trasaturile,indiferent de gradul atins pe scara esteticului,reprezinta o harta a interiorului.
ridurile sapate adanc,sau cozile aplecate ale unor ochi nu pot zace mute. nici mustata.
hipertrofia unor gene nu tace nici ea,fie ca ochii ce ii stau in custodie sunt mici si negri,fie ca sunt mari-calmi si albastru-infiniti.ori atat de caprui si umezi,incat determina privitorul sa secrete un surplus de oxitocina.
nici nasul nu tace. carn ori coroiat.cu atat mai putin sprancenele ori conturul sau volumul buzelor.
relieful chipului sta drept materializarea Eului; daca exteriorul ar intruchipa Suprasinele, iar interiorul-Sinele.
chipul este insarcinat cu suprafata de contact social; echilibru intre miligramele de ezoteric si milimetrii de exoteric care ne danseaza tuturor,in proportii variate.

i'd like to take my time

you need not pull the curtains.it's alright.the sun may enter the room.so may the moon.the xilophone spreads around sweet sound flavours of both wealth and peace.my watch can take its time.may each second last three seconds..i'm not in a hurry at all. i'm not going anywhere.i'm yearning for my hands shaping round letters.i miss the compulsory dark-blue colour of the ink dripping from the pen.i miss blue ink staints getting through my fingertips.i can't picture myself ever missing the keyboard.
i hate speed.i'd rather have my days pourring slowly as if they were made of some honey i keep on twisting above the jar every now and then.
i preffer tasting paper with my fingers to seeing quick images unfolding on some display. i cannot be compelled into the features of this times. if only the subway stations were longer and interpersonal connections more dense..

a crescut mare

isi spuse ca deja a crescut mare.
cand yann tiersen ii devine premergator lui chopin in intruziunea spre subtilitatea,rafinamentul,matematica roditoare a portativelor aparent hieroglifice.
cand periplul prin note,sincope,contratimpi se concretizeaza in ore de plush si reverie inseamna ca te'ai facut mare. mare si norocos.
norocul vine si odata cu citirea ritmic repetata a randurilor lui cioran.."muzica este calea sonora a ascezei".
cand beatitudinea urca precum adrenalina si iti inclesteaza maxilarele in fiorul rece hedonistic.
cand te rasfeti in metrou privind grimase extenuate si ti le poti poti imagina zambind. cu atat mai norocos si fericit cand reusesti sa le transpui in pastel sau in uleiuri pe vreo panza a nimanui,plasmuita.
cand in recuzita proprie ai indeajuns de mult combustibil de ganduri bune si curate incat sa iti faci tie insuti surprize restrictionate in perimetrul dat de circumferinta propriului scalp.
cand iti simti zambetul propagat in alte zambete. te'ai facut mare,norocos,si simplu-fericit.
cand te bucuri daca in jur iti miroase a vanilie si atat. sau a scortisoara.
esti adult-bine cand gesturile si expresiile faciale ale copiilor ti se deruleaza cu incetinitorul pe retina.
cand hainele uneori brodate ale bunicilor iti vin si tie frumos.
cand reminiscente utopice inca iti paraziteaza mintea si iti vine sa chicotesti.
cand te trezesti inconjurat de persoane pe care iti vine sa le asezi in cutii cartonate si legate in funda cu pamblici de matase rosie.
cand ai invatzat sa privesti fara sa critici prin okii neinstruiti si inteligent-sclipitori ai annei karina,intruchipand'o pe nana a lui godard in "Vivre sa vie".
cand traiesti recontextualizata senzatia finalizarii catorva etaje de piese lego.
a crescut mare.

self-made

there was once upon a time a self-made princess living in a self-made tiny castle.
she used to like self-made sweet alcoholic drinks. and that would be due to the pleasant and thrilling taste of childhood,as well as the subsequent state of emphatic rapture.
she used to wear a self-made fringe decorating her forehead. the fringe would foresee her strong eyebrows and very black eyes.
she used to paint her lips in scarlet. she used to wear them in a self-made smile.
she used to dress up in self-made items that would enable her to dance a waltz of some self-made old times when going out at night.she scarcely seemed to inhabit time. she often idulged herself into that parisisian looking-like.
she hated the city she lived in,but she used to so very much love her fairy-tale friends. she would be fast blinking her eyelashes when being surrounded by people and quite seldom when walking quite alone,or reading,or drinking tea.
she used to smoke long,brown,cherry or chocolate flavoured cigars,using a long self-made cigarette holder.
she used to dream about a self-made piano she would have known to play..
she did not think a self-made prince-charming existed.

excess

it is excess the feature that defines me better than anything else.
i listen to too much music.i also shake my shoulders too strong when the very loud music caresses my ears. most of the times i let out reality and dig into sounds.i often get lost in frequency. i stay awake too much.i forget to sleep.i drink too much English tea. i escape the urban landscape and drown into displays of my subsequent actions. i work too much on the stream i use to build of futile thoughts. i feel too much pity for obsolete objects. i am too savvy about my ego. i love too much.i put too much blush on my cheeks. i ask too much from myself.i worry too much. i was said i am too grateful.i'm a neat freak.i find myself brimmed with too much confidence.i talk faaaar too much.