Yesterday I was IM'ing my friend Lulzim, asking how they'd be celebrating the day. He said there are parties planned by each city, beginning last night and going on through the day. As a filmmaker, he promised he'd film the celebrations. He also promised he'd dance. Hopefully I'll be able to put up a link to a youtube 'Luli' video soon.
My sister introduced me to the poet Mary Oliver a few years ago, for which I am eternally grateful. Christina, for that, you can totally have my vintage black coat and that brown sweater if I die first.
It doesn't have to be the blue iris, it could be weeds in a vacant lot, or a few small stones; just pay attention, then patch
a few words together and don't try to make them elaborate, this isn't a contest but the doorway
into thanks, and a silence in which another voice may speak.
"Literary experience heals the wound, without undermining the privilege, of individuality. ...In reading great literature I become a thousand men and yet remain myself. ...Here -- as in worship, in love, in moral action, and in knowing -- I transcend myself, and am never more myself than when I do."
Rumor (and most news sources) has it that Kosova will declare independence on February 17th. There are so many different ramifications and meanings to this, as I am reminded every time I email one of my Kosovar Albanian friends, or what I hear from the Serbian side from a new friend attending university here in the States.
After having dinner with my new Serbian friend, I am still digesting some of what he said about the pending independence, and the feelings from the Serb side, and how I can understand that in my limited context. Despite the tension and anxiety, or perhaps because of that, it is an exciting time as history is being made. Though there is no official anthem yet for Kosova, the Philharmonic is tuning to the sound of Beethoven's Ode To Joy. According to David Charter from The Times Online, the government is deciding between a new flag, one that will honor all nationalities living within the small border that defines Kosova, that will pay tribute to the past while looking forward to the future.
Car-free in L.A., I write about what I see and those I meet.
Fears: Clowns, unreasonably small dogs, unexpected mariachi music.
Motto: Regardless of Snavely family tradition, I will not be buried with my pets.
Email me: rebecca [dot] snavely [at] gmail.com