on why I go to the America or weird poetry of life
Originally published at Little Stories of V.. You can comment here or there.
(I worked on this blog a bit, so I upload it a bit later then it was written)
It is one month before I visit the United States for the first time ever. Next week I turn 30 (huh!), so I think it is a majestic way to start another decade of my life. Yesterday I’ve read new blog post written my Amanda Palmer. You can read it HERE. The thing that amazes me about her is how she can talk about complicated things. A lot to learn from Amanda.
She wrote about many things in that particular blog. First about blogging and writing a book. Go and read it, my retelling will be not as good as her own words. I thought like wow, how come that I enjoyed blogging so much for many years (those years when livejournal was at its best). I wrote about everything. I didn’t need a purpose. There were always words to write and thoughts to explain.
But then digital world changed in a very special way. Blogging became kinda profession. Serious shit. And livejournal kinda died. I lost my habit to write easily on the blog.
Somehow I got a BLOG WRITER’S BLOCK. Dammit. Weird as it is. It felt like my blogs should be meaningful, to deliver message, to have a theme. As if blogging was not for everybody. Yesterday I read what Amanda wrote and thought - fuck that, blog should satisfy the only person in this world and it is… me. Yes, I promote my art through it. But blog is freedom, it should not BORE me to death to write my own blog. Or SCARE me.
The other two things Amanda wrote about were her tour (book tour and the bed shows) and Anthony’s situation. For me it is inseparable in a weird way. Through Amanda’s music I get to know Anthony and his books.
There was this live webcast by Amanda. Anthony read a story there (at 1:04:20 in the previous link). I made this print screen, how I wish to be there with my camera. It was deep night and then dawn wee hours in Moscow. My beloved man slept peacefully in our bedroom. I stood on the balcony in the living room with headphones and iPad and listened to webcast.
I bought e-book of Beloved Demons on the first day of release. I wrote a review on it and blogged it HERE. I wanted more people to read Anthony’s stories. Somehow we started writing to each other from time to time. Sometimes people just happen in each others lives. It is truly amazing. One day you don’t have this person close to your heart and then you do.
Anthony sent me paper copies of his books. I think I am the only person who has got Anthony’s books in Russia. I should make a picture of them on the Red Square I suppose.
(done it - went to the Red Square and make a picture)
Once Anthony told me he’d like me to make portraits of him. I said yes, of course, portraits is my favourite thing to do. I love human beings, through camera I discover people and say them they are awesome. Through camera I see beauty of people, their strength, their fragility.
Also Anthony is such an enigmatic person to make portraits of.
I thought well, yes, I should come when I have money. But one day I will do it. For sure. Later. Blah-blah-blah. Then I learnt that Anthony’s remission is over. He was about to go through chemo again.
I applied for the visa. Got it. Bought tickets to NY on the dates when I don’t have shootings here in Russia.
We decided that we will meet and talk no matter what. As with portraits, we will just see.
Next day after I bought tickets Amanda tweeted that the release date of her book is the 11th of November. A bit later she informed the twitterverse that there will be a few Bed Shows from 5-8th of November.
My tickets to the States I bought the day before were from 2th to 16th of November.
Now I have tickets to the Bed Show and to Boston book tour event. And I plan to come to Porter Square books as well.
But honestly I can’t call this luck or anything. Because initially I got visa and tickets, because Anthony’s conditions changed. It is “weird poetry of life” as Amanda tweeted. Endless ifs, buts and whys and wtfs.
Life is complicated. Everything is connected. Endless dots. Dots. Dots.
Fuck the writer’s block. I needed to bring all this together. I feel too many feelings at the same time. It was always my thing.
Soon I will be in the United States.
P.S: Somewhere in-between I went to Stockholm. Thanks to wonderful Neil Gaiman, I managed to give Anthony a book as a gift (HERE is a big blog with pictures). It was Master and Margarita by Mikhail Boulgakov, which is a brilliant Russian novel. HERE Anthony talks of Pilate and Jesus trial after chemo treatment and reading M&M.