Friday, April 26, 2013

How are you? I'm fine, thanks!

I'm on Atkins again. This time it seems it's going to work.
I don't like it. I want to glutton on pasta, bread and pastry, I have been on Pinterest, and it's full of wonderful recipes of cakes and sweets and lovely things. :-(
Well... the internet will be there in a year, when I can eat something like that once a month or so.
That's the thing with it. I just need to remember not to give up what I really, really, really want, for what I feel like wanting right now. :-D

I really want to lose weight. I really hate being the "fat aunt". I know it's good for my nieces and nephews, to know fat people and to know we are good and kind and fun and wise and nice to be with.
But - I don't want to be that aunt.
I want to be that active, slender, able aunt, whom you ask to go skateboarding or freerunning with you :-D

Another thing.

I read yesterday about the inner critic. Mine is really bad. She is kind of the woman I would have been, if I had had a good self-confidence. I would have been a real bitch. She is ruthless, critical, intelligent, and demanding. And she has that nasty "I'm just telling you the truth, so that you won't go imagining things and getting hurt" attitude. You know, when people tell you "truths" in the most hurtful and inconsiderate manner, and you ought to be grateful, because she just wants the best for you. Bitch.

Anyway, I have a "bodyguard". What Little My would be, if she was normal size human and about 14, and she has a baseball bat, which she swings, when she chases away the people I'm not to think about, like my inner critic, or... someone.

And I find myself protecting him from her. I want to have him in my life.
So even if the memories make me cry, I try desperately hang on to them, even though they are so twisted now, that they only make me cry and feel really bad about myself... but that's better than not having him at all.

Hello, yeah, it's been a while
Not much, how 'bout you?
I'm not sure why I called
I guess I really just wanted to talk to you
And I was thinking maybe later on
We could get together for a while
It's been such a long time
And I really do miss your smile

I'm not talking 'bout moving in
And I don't want to change your life
But there's a warm wind blowing, the stars are out
And I'd really love to see you tonight

We could go walking through a windy park
Or take a drive along the beach
Or stay at home and watch T.V.
You see, it really doesn’t matter much to me

I'm not talking 'bout moving in
And I don't want to change your life
But there's a warm wind blowing, the stars are out
And I'd really love to see you tonight

I won't ask for promises
So you won't have to lie
We've both played that game before
Say I love you, then say goodbye

I'm not talking 'bout moving in
And I don't want to change your life
But there's a warm wind blowing, the stars are out
And I'd really love to see you tonight

And I'm angry at myself, because I shouldn't... and that's the inner critic voicing herself again. Brumma!

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

I am a Bohemian

Not "Bohemian" as in originating from Bohemia, nor bohémienne, that is a Romani.
I am an intellectual artist with unconventional lifestyle.

I don't work, but I do a lot.

I pursue all forms of art, from music and literature to arts and crafts and architecture and theater. All of it.

I come from noble blood, and am the seventh child of my parents. I am a witch and consider myself not on the hierarchical pyramid, but outside it. I socialize as easily with kings as with homeless people. (Which actually are more close to each other than the Dursleys of this world.)

I have nothing against polygamy, pansexualism and free love, though I choose to live in a monogamous marriage. I think I might be polyamorous.

I don't think I'm a wandered, a vagabond, an adventurer... But I do admire people who are.

I am an eccentric, an aesthetic and somewhat of a hedonist. Epicurean, I'd say.

Do I have unorthodox or anti-establishment political or social view? Not really. I'm social liberal and I consider all people equal, and I don't much care about money... not enough to actually do something to get it. I am more for the economically free Star Trek society, of bartering and collectives. I'm for all things frugal, sustainable and ecological, and skilled in homely arts and crafts. I could support me and my family in forest with nothing but a knife.

I do think "bobo" - bourgeois bohemians - are a joke and an offense. Just like Christian Pagans. The idea of bohemianism is to be exactly not bourgeois. Bourgeois is the wealthy middle-class, "white wannabes" (and "white" in this doesn't mean skin color, but the class system of Finnish civil war), people who think things are "good" because they cost a lot, and rich people are always right simply because they are rich. These people usually vote for conservative - or what everyone else votes. In Sweden they are mostly social democrat. Which has less and less to do with socialism, because the people who vote for them want to be rich and grand and... bourgeoisie.

Why am I saying all this?
I encountered a Pinterest "person" (I don't know if this entity is one person or many, but at Pinterest a "person" is an entity with a profile and a board. Like "Ketutar" or "Martha Stewart".) calling herself something bohemian, and she has named all her boards "bohemian ---". And she doesn't seem to have the slightest idea what bohemian really is.

 Dries van Noten coat

Her idea of "bohemian fashion" is really fashion. Haute Couture. Catwalks and Vogue.

Her idea of "bohemian interior" is minimalist. Yes, with a little Moroccan influence, and "old, worn" things, but the industrial chic "old, worn", not the folklore "old, worn". If it only looked like something a homeless person could live, but, no, it's very stylish and expensive. Straight from any high street interior design magazine. I really can't see artists and outsiders and eccentric people living in these rooms. I can see people like... not bourgeois, not the new rich, no, artistic, yes, but jet set. Fashion designers who really don't make clothes I'd wear, editorial personnel of magazines of style and fashion, people with a lot of money, people who dress in neutrals. People who don't have kids or relatives. People who wear shoes and go to a hairdresser regularly.
The style is not rich, it's expensive.

And neon? Neon has nothing to do with Bohemian! Not after 80's when it was made for everyone.

The thing with "bohemian" is that it does include such unlikable attributes like "dirty", "shabby", "messy", "unkempt", "laissez-faire", some "je ne sais quoi" indifference, but also unmistakable fantasy, richness of imagination, whimsical, amoral, childlike wildness, certain horror vacui.
Minimalism might have been bohemian in the 60's and 70's when it was new and fascinating and different, but... today? No.
I should be thinking of gypsies and singing, dancing, merry-making combined with passionate creating, painters who would cut their ears off... except for when they are being flirtatious and having fun with their friends in a taverna somewhere. Or in the wilderness. Doesn't matter. But these people would not think twice walking barefeet in the grass.

I really don't associate words like "dry-cleaning", "time manager" and... clean... with bohemian. Cold. I keep getting an idea of a person with cleaning obsession. Germ phobia. Rigid, very organized, precise, very intellectual, but totally unimaginative person. With black glasses and geometric hairdo. Pedantic.
Sure, creative. Artistic even. But... they probably use rulers or computers a lot. Graphic designer, perhaps. Potter, even. Could be designing fabrics. Rather abstract, geometric things. Precise, mathematical.
I can't see the person living in this house laughing a lot, or doing anything spontaneous and unexpected. I would say this person looks down on real bohemians. The dirty, unreliable, strange people. The romantic and poetic souls who would gather flowers just because they are so pretty, a whole bunch of flowers, arms full of flowers, and then just whack them into some pot or another, that wasn't even designed to be a flower vase, and it looks amazing. The people who build vardos and make them so not sleek and aerodynamic and designed and white, but full of carvings and colors and colors and forms and texture upon colors and forms and texture, and make it look all perfectly wonderful, wild, vivid and... just gorgeous... with every meaning of the word. Alive, sexy and joyous...