Qaos Ascending
If You Travel Here
1 June 2024
Future of Forestry - Traveler's Song
"Wait, stay here and have a drink of time
A drink of time
A drink of time
Wait, before you split yourself in two
There’s time for you
If you travel here, you will feel it all
The brightest and the darkest
If you travel here, listen to your heart
And take with you what lasts forever"
.jpg)
Pripyat - Unknown source (to me, at least)
.jpg)
Ch 1
Birth
Sunday, 2 June
Good morning Quinn,
Soon I'll be on my way to Qaos and you'll be glum and bored without me. I'm thinking about keeping a journal of my misadventures trip. Maybe I'll even let you read it someday. Maybe.
It'll be nice seeing Aunt K for her birthday, but your dad thinks my stepfather has other motives for flying me home. Everyone's healthy, so it isn't that. Doesn't matter. I plan on spending at least two weeks with Aunt K and only an obligatory lunch or two with Indyuk.
Sorry that you can't go with me! Missing a month of work kinda defeats the purpose of having a summer job, eh? Well, you can always join me later when if you get fired. ;-)
Less than 10 days before I disappear. Tell you what, Quinn - I owe you a concert for every week I'm gone, okay? That way we can celebrate properly before school starts up again! I'll even let you pick the bands.
~ Misha
Brenna Mahn - Badung Strait
This is Only a Test (in stereo)
Tuesday, 4 June
4th Avenue Jones - Stereo
The following is a test of the Qaotic Broadcast System. The broadcasters in your area have developed this system to keep you informed in the event of an emergency. This is only a test.
《Xī Xī xì xī》
Xī Xī xī, xǐ xī xì
Xī Xī xì xì xī xī xì
Xī Xī xì xì xí xǐ xī
Xī xī xī, xì xí Xī
Xī Xī xī xī xī xí xì
Xī xī xī xī xǐ xí Xī
《Hsi Hsi Plays with the Rhinoceros》
West Creek Rhinoceros enjoys romping and playing.
Hsi Hsi every evening takes rhinoceros to play.
Hsi Hsi meticulously practices washing the rhinoceros.
Rhinoceros sucks creek, playfully attacks Hsi.
Hsi Hsi, laughing, hopes to stop playing.
Too bad rhinoceros, neighing, enjoys attacking Hsi.
《嵇熙戏犀》
西溪犀、喜嬉戲。
嵇熙夕夕携犀戲。
嵇熙細细習洗犀。
犀吸溪、戲襲熙。
嵇熙嘻嘻希息戲。
惜熙嘶嘶喜襲熙。
[Poem and translation by Yuen-Ren Chao]
Alaina Mahn - Dürer's Rhinoceros
This was a test of the Qaotic Broadcast System. If this had been a real emergency, the poem you just read would have been followed by official information, news or instructions.
It would also have made sense. But it didn’t. It doesn’t. And it won’t....at least not yet.
But We Can't Say
Friday, 7 June
Talking Heads - Road to Nowhere
Good morning Q,
Did you like the exquisite poem? Thought you would. I was testing the program for bugs and such...and I'm happy to report that the rhino is secure and bug-free. You do like your rhinos free of mites, right?
If you're reading this then my visit home went a bit astray just as your father feared. On the bright side, it also means that you got the decrypt key and Uncle Z is on his way to rescue me, right?
Right?
Ummm, if you're not Q, then I'm just using this journal to practice my Engrish English skills and the following applies:
Names, places and events depicted in this story are entirely fictitious.
Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, past or present,
European or American, is purely coincidental.
~ M
Robert Burns - To a Mouse, on
Turning Her Up in Her Nest with the Plough
Ch 2
Such a Fine Time, a Happy Time
Sunday, 9 June
Madness - Our House
Good evening Quinn,
You know what I’ll miss the most this summer (besides hanging out with you, of course)? - Sunday dinners. The verbal sparring between Uncle Z and Matthias alone make them worthwhile, but adding your nieces and nephew zipping back and forth across the house like little fireballs takes it to a whole new level. I had no idea family dinners could be such a circus! Your mother is quite the capable ringmaster, Quinn. She kept the whole thing under control with only two dropped tchotchkes, one broken ego (it's not a party until you break something, Uncle Z), and a spilled coffee or two. Not bad, not bad.
I won’t miss Uncle Matthias' overly hearty laugh though...my ears are still ringing! He enjoys getting your father riled up over politics, doesn't he? I like watching Uncle Z twist the right end of his mustache (always the right) more and more as he argues with Aunt Peg’s brother. By dessert one end of his stache stood up while the other end curled down. 🥴
Promise me you won't get yourself into trouble while I'm gone, ok? I know you're prone to that. 😜 I'll only be gone six weeks, but I'm already counting the number of days until I'm back (45 loooong days). But then I will bless you with my presence for at least another three years...what can be more blissful than that?
Good times, good times.
~ M
Douglas Mann - Walk Upon Mixed Emotions
A Drink of Time
Tuesday, 11 June
Future of Forestry - Traveler's Song (The Piano & Strings Sessions)
Good morning Q,
The flight to Qaos went fine, even with an extra 3-hour layover in Munich.
The ride to the hotel, however, was another story. Not only did the driver use oncoming lanes whenever they appeared less congested than ours ("less" is open to interpretation), but he even whipped through half the stop signs! Not sure when those became optional or when left-hand turns on red became legal, but he seemed very pleased with how quickly we reached the hotel. They take great pride in their driving skills here in Qaos. Perhaps this is why Uncle Z is nervous about the trip?
Maybe I should have stayed in Munich.
~ M
P.S. If I don't make it back to the airport, see if the driver's name was Otto. If so, you know what happened.
Brenna Mahn - Car Radio
Minutes Pass And Become Years
Wednesday, 12 June
Appino - Passaporta
Good morning Q,
I wandered around the university district today. Dropped by a cafe, an art gallery, and a couple o’ bookstores. I even walked across the UQ campus, strolling under the linden trees past a peculiar mix of gorgeous neoclassical structures and blah blah Bauhaus buildings. There was hardly a soul in sight...except for scores of tufted-eared black squirrels, that is.
Eventually I made my way over to the cemetery to say my hellos, although it was nearly dark by then so I didn't stay long. Never did care for cemeteries. Never cared for churches either, but as I walked out the cemetery gate my legs froze and I just stood there staring at the church across the street. Even worse, Quin, a girl walked out the church door and stopped at the bottom of the steps when she saw me. Perhaps she thought recognized me? Or more likely, she was thinking of fleeing back into the church. Fortunately, my legs began to work again and I marched away so I wouldn't freak her out.
But the urge to peek inside the building wouldn't go away, so I returned a while later and found the door unlocked. When I was young, Aunt K told me mom and dad met when they joined the choir here, but I never cared to go inside before. Yet, as soon as I entered the sanctuary I recognized the cross suspended over the altar and remembered seeing it as a child - amazed at how it floated in the air. I would sneak up to the platform and make myself dizzy staring up at the ceiling trying to figure out what magic was holding the cross in the air...and then someone (Aunt K?) would ruin the moment by picking me up and carrying me away. I guess I've been here after all.
I left the church a few minutes later after an elderly gentleman came in the sanctuary from another room and showed me the wires leading from the arms of the cross to a dark wooden beam on the ceiling. And when I walked out of the church whom did I see sitting on a bench across the street waiting for me? -- Indyuk (I have other names for my step-father, but that's the only polite one).
"You miss it?" he said as I crossed the street.
"What, church? No."
"Good. Then let's go to dinner."
I've been gone for almost two years, Quinn, and that's how he says hello to me. My trip is off to a questionable start.
~ M
.jpg)
Marc Chagall - Stained Glass Window
(All Saints' Church, Tudeley, England)
Just Want to Feel Alive
Thursday, 13 June
Owl City - Dreams and Disasters
I saw my sister tonight...for a few minutes anyways. I was walking down Canal Street after enjoying a lovely dinner at a Greek eatery with me, myself, and I when a black & crimson Bugatti Chiron appeared out of nowhere and pulled over to the curb in front of me. I don't recall seeing anything sportier than a high-end BMW or Porsche in Qaos before, but I imagine this would be one of Uncle Matthias's dream cars. But I didn't have time to stare - loud singing and laughter from an adjoining footbridge stole my attention. It sounded like a couple of drunken sailors crossing over the canal.
It turned out to be Sophi and a friend.
"Hi, Soph," I shouted as they danced from the bridge to the sidewalk in front of me, startling Sophi who stopped mid-twirl at the sight of me. "Long time, no see."
"Who's this, Soph?" the other girl asked.
I was about to introduce myself when Sophi leaned forward with a finger across her lips. "Shhhh."
"Why are you shushing him?"
"We gotta go," Sophi replied and tugged her friend towards the Bugatti, but the driver lowered a window, lit a cigarette, and took a drink from a bottle. He didn't seem to be in a hurry.
"We're not going anywhere 'til I know his name," the girl said while giggling and pulled away from Sophi. Her friend had long black curly hair with purple braids hanging down the sides and wore a black & royal blue outfit with more buckles, clasps, and zippers than I've ever seen on one person...with boots to match. You'd find her just a tad bit over-the-top, Quinn.
"Come on, we're late," Sophi said. "Let's go before your boyfriend is too drunk to drive."
"Stop drinking driver!" the girl shouted with laughter and then whispered to me: "I don't drink. It can kill ya." Perhaps it was just to keep her world from spinning out of control, but she looked into my eyes nearly the entire time and I couldn't help but stare back in return.
"So, tell me your name and I'll tell you mine," she said as Sophi vigorously shook her head NO!! behind her.
"Otto," I said. It didn't matter what name I used. She was too wasted to remember it.
"Otto what?"
"Rabyn, Otto Rabyn," I said, not sure what to think about my borrowed first name but enjoying the sound of my father's last name which I never had the chance to use before. I didn't bother to see whether Sophi approved of my new name or not. I couldn't care less.
"Hello, Mr. Otto," the girl said with a smile. "Well, gotta go. Good-bye!"
"Wait!" I said. "What's your name?"
She leaned in close and whispered, "I'll tell you next time." Then she laughed and skipped her way to the car and opened the passenger door. Sophi glared at me for a moment and took the one and only passenger seat while her friend squeezed in next to her. The driver discarded the cigarette onto the street, the car's engine roared to life, and the Bugatti zipped away.
That was my night, Quinn. How was yours?
~ M...or is it O? 😖
Andy Warhol - Orange Car Crash Ten Times
Half a Life
Saturday, 15 June
Sophi's friend is in the hospital. My sister didn't bother mentioning it when we sat down for breakfast this morning, but I found out soon enough.
We were sitting in the hotel dining room, both eating very little but Sophi jabbering way too much, and I was half-listening to her rattle off about meeting my step-father for dinner tonight when my eyes were drawn to a picture on the back of a newspaper someone was reading at an adjacent table -- it was a black and white photo of a crane lifting a sports car tail-up out of a canal.
I got up from the table mid-sentence and grabbed a copy of this morning's paper from an empty table. Sophi didn't say another word as I read the article buried on page 11.
"I'm guessing you knew about this."
"Of course I knew," she said.
"Where were you?" I asked.
"Left the club with someone else."
The story was short in length and details, only stating that the car brakes malfunctioned and that the son of a pharmaceutical magnate and a female passenger were quickly rescued by security guards from a nearby condo complex.
"What's your friend's name?"
Sophi looked away.
"Is she out of the hospital already?"
"No. In a day or two, I suppose."
"Which hospital?" I asked.
"The good one."
"Are you going to see her today?"
"No," Sophi said nonchalantly. "Why should I? I'll see her Friday."
"You're not even gonna visit your friend?"
"It's not like she ever came to see me."
"Wait, when have you been in the hospital?" I asked.
"Never mind. I'll tell father you're too distracted for him today."
With that, Sophi got up and left without giving me any details or offering to pay for her breakfast. My sister was never one for common courtesies.
With that, Sophi got up and left without giving me any details or offering to pay for her breakfast. My sister was never one for common courtesies.
~ M
Brenna Mahn - Misericordia
Ch 3
Feeling Gravity's Pull
Sunday, 16 June
Good morning Q,
I dropped by the hospital this afternoon to visit the Girl With No Name. I didn't plan on it, just sorta happened. I was roaming around town trying to find a birthday present for Aunt K and someone suggested that I check out the street vendors by Tivoli Park...and the park happens to be across the street from said hospital.
After buying nothing for Aunt K, but a few knick-knacks for who knows whom, I sat on a park bench and debated whether or not to go in. How would I even introduce myself to a girl who probably wouldn't recognize me from dozens of other people she chatted with on Friday night? Hi, my name is Mikhail. My friends call me Misha but you can call me Otto. Yeah, that should confuse her just fine.
After twenty minutes, the best I came up with was: "Hi, I'm Sophi's brother..." Simple and straightforward.
I watched as a white Mercedes pulled up to the valet station in front of the main hospital entrance and three girls exited the car. They seemed about the right age and social status so I figured they were my best chance for learning Her name. I quickly followed them in, found an empty chair near the registration desk, and congratulated myself as the receptionist gave them directions to a Nadezhda Kovalenskaya in room 823. She buzzed open a door to the left of the desk and the girls disappeared.
I went back outside for some fresh air while waiting for Nadezhda's visitors to leave. I walked the path through the ornamental flower beds and sculpture garden in front of the hospital, drifting from one sculpture to another and started second-guessing myself. Why did I feel compelled to visit this girl? Why couldn't I wait until Friday night like Sophi ? And when and why was Sophi in the hospital without anyone telling me?
Fifteen minutes later, the three girls walked out and I went in.
"Hi, I'm here to see Nadezhda Kovalenskaya," I said to one of the staff sitting behind the registration counter.
"NIC, please," she said. I gave her my ID card. "It's expired."
"Sorry, I just returned from overseas. Here's my passport." She stepped away to photocopy my IDs and my heart started thumping much too loudly. She returned to the desk and handed me my card and passport.
"How do you know the patient?" she asked.
"She was a classmate of mine," I said, perhaps too timidly.
"A classmate?"
"Yes," I replied with more assurance, "before I went abroad, of course"
"Have a seat over there and I'll call you shortly," she said with what appeared to my anxious nerves as a forced smile.
I sat in the crowded waiting room and tried not to overanalyze the receptionist's facial expressions as she answered the phone and periodically glanced my way. A minute later the phone in my pocket vibrated and I checked it for messages.
From Sophi: "Wrong person, you idiot."
I quickly looked up and scanned the waiting room, but didn't see her. Outside perhaps? The receptionist glanced my way again...her expression more hawkish this time. What if she sent my information straight to the security office? Expecting guards to appear at any moment, I made my escape as soon as the receptionist turned away from the desk.
But Sophi wasn't outside either. "Where are you?" I texted her.
"Rotunda with Father. Waiting for you." It was just after 7:00. Did Sophi mention this at breakfast? I took a taxi to the restaurant and found Indyuk at the same table we sat at on Thursday, but this time an exasperated-looking Sophi was joining us as well.
"Sorry, I lost track of time trying to find a birthday present for Aunt K."
"Glad to hear you're staying out of trouble," Indyuk replied with a smile.
Quinn, did I ever tell you that he's a police chief? Perhaps I should have thought of that before I made such a fool of myself today.
Wish you were here,
~ M
Man Ray - La Fortune
All the Tears in the World
Monday, 17 June
Frank Lenz - All the Gears in the World
Took the first train out of Qaos this morning. Normally I would have enjoyed watching the misty beech forests and limestone hills drift by, but my fractured mind was elsewhere today. I took the train all the way to Goshen on the coast and then walked the six-mile trail to the Bay of Quinque. The beach was still empty when I got there, which was good because I didn't want an audience. Just me, myself, and the bay.
I put my backpack, shirt, and shoes on a nearby boulder and stretched out for my swim - but then nothing. I just stood there. Stood at the water's edge like a pitiful creature, staring at the rock jutting out of the water like Gibraltar 500 meters away. 484 actually.
I've swum at this beach dozens of times, Quinn, but today I couldn't move. At first I felt anxious and then a growing panic. How many times have I watched people swim out to that very rock and make it back just fine...and why did my dad have to be the only one who never came back? How quickly the direction of our lives can change, Quinn. How different things could have been.
A whistle from a lifeguard brought me back to reality as a dozen kids plunged into the water with adults wading in after them. I grabbed my stuff while watching two teens race each other to the rock just like a thousand swimmers before them, wiped the memories from my eyes, and headed back to Goshen to catch the ferry to Governor's Island.
Someday I'll swim out to Gibraltar, Quinn. Someday.
~ M
Tomas Fernandez - Anatomy of Thought
(www.tomasjfernandezartist.com)
The Feeling of Life
Wednesday, 19 June
Keep for Cheap - Segway
Good morning Quinn!
I just spent three glorious relaxing days with my aunt and I have another two weeks to go! It's a rough life walking along the beach in the morning, hitting the touristy shops in town, lunching at Fisherman's Wharf, and watching the sun set over the Adriatic while eating dinner on the back deck....but I guess I can get used to this.
Aunt K made me promise to bring you next time, even if I have to sneak you out of the house while Uncle Z is sleeping. 😊 I'm sure you wouldn't mind.
My stepfather wants me to have dinner with him before I fly home, so I'll probably spend the last two days up in Qaos. Other than that, I'm just going to enjoy a whole lot of nothing!....although I should probably get Aunt K a birthday present before Sunday, eh?
Sinc,
~ Misha
I just spent three glorious relaxing days with my aunt and I have another two weeks to go! It's a rough life walking along the beach in the morning, hitting the touristy shops in town, lunching at Fisherman's Wharf, and watching the sun set over the Adriatic while eating dinner on the back deck....but I guess I can get used to this.
Aunt K made me promise to bring you next time, even if I have to sneak you out of the house while Uncle Z is sleeping. 😊 I'm sure you wouldn't mind.
My stepfather wants me to have dinner with him before I fly home, so I'll probably spend the last two days up in Qaos. Other than that, I'm just going to enjoy a whole lot of nothing!....although I should probably get Aunt K a birthday present before Sunday, eh?
Sinc,
~ Misha
Claude Monet - Mouth of the Seine at Honfleur
If and When
Thursday, 20 June
Twenty One Pilots - Morph
Ran into an old friend while in town tonight - Polykarp, or PK as he likes to be called. Cool name, right? Sophi & I used to hang out with him during our summer vacations many many moons ago. He would throw a fit (and any object within reach) if someone called him "Poly" or even "Carpo." He could be a wee bit temperamental at times.
He was more Sophi's friend than mine, but he convinced me easily enough to join him for a drink so we could reminisce about the good old days.
"Sorry, but I can't stay long," he said after buying both of us a bottle of good ol' oatmeal stout. "I just found out that I have to work in the morning."
"I thought you were on holiday?"
"Yeah, not so much anymore."
"Well that sucks. Where do you work?"
"At the mayor's office...in Qaos," he added.
"What's the point? The day will be half-over before you even get there."
"Yep, but lucky me will be working all weekend 'cause my boss is considerate like that."
"Why all of a sudden?" I asked.
"Because his daughter is a sytka. She just got out of the hospital and within two days she'll probably be hitting the clubs again."
"Wait, what?"
"Let's just say that your sister and I used to be pretty close until she started hanging out with Party Girl, and now Natasha drags Sophi everywhere she goes. I can't stand that kaputskaya. She ruined your sister, Misha." PK nursed his drink and left a few stories later.
Needless to say, I was both elated and deflated at the news. I know Her name now, but she doesn't sound like the type of person I should be intrigued with, Quinn, now does she? PK also told me Natasha's favorite hangout - The Metropole, which of course he can't stand because that's where all the spoiled rich kids go (PK actually went on a five minute cuss-laden rant about the club, but I won't bore you with that. 🙉).
Looks like I may have to finish my shopping elsewhere this weekend. This island just doesn't seem to have that special something for Aunt K.
~ M
Love Spit Love - How Soon is Now?
He was more Sophi's friend than mine, but he convinced me easily enough to join him for a drink so we could reminisce about the good old days.
"Sorry, but I can't stay long," he said after buying both of us a bottle of good ol' oatmeal stout. "I just found out that I have to work in the morning."
"I thought you were on holiday?"
"Yeah, not so much anymore."
"Well that sucks. Where do you work?"
"At the mayor's office...in Qaos," he added.
"What's the point? The day will be half-over before you even get there."
"Yep, but lucky me will be working all weekend 'cause my boss is considerate like that."
"Why all of a sudden?" I asked.
"Because his daughter is a sytka. She just got out of the hospital and within two days she'll probably be hitting the clubs again."
"Wait, what?"
"Let's just say that your sister and I used to be pretty close until she started hanging out with Party Girl, and now Natasha drags Sophi everywhere she goes. I can't stand that kaputskaya. She ruined your sister, Misha." PK nursed his drink and left a few stories later.
Needless to say, I was both elated and deflated at the news. I know Her name now, but she doesn't sound like the type of person I should be intrigued with, Quinn, now does she? PK also told me Natasha's favorite hangout - The Metropole, which of course he can't stand because that's where all the spoiled rich kids go (PK actually went on a five minute cuss-laden rant about the club, but I won't bore you with that. 🙉).
Looks like I may have to finish my shopping elsewhere this weekend. This island just doesn't seem to have that special something for Aunt K.
~ M
Wei Jia - Door
The Wrong Way
Friday, 21 June
Love Spit Love - How Soon is Now?
So this happened:
My train pulled into Qaos shortly after seven and I took a cab straight to the Metropole....and arrived one and a half hours before it even opened. I guess I should've checked out their VK page first.
After nibbling on an overpriced dinner, I had to shell out another 80 rublie (about $40) for the cover charge. When the doorman told me the price, I was a tad bit shocked and blurted out "What!" so he kindly clarified with a wide gold-tooth grin, "That will be eight zero."
"That's highway robbery," I replied. He smiled and took my rublei.
I drifted around & around & around the cavernous club for the first hour, admiring (or not) the glow-in-the-dark mythical beasts cavorting along the walls. The second floor was basically an extra wide balcony with sofas along the walls and small tables with bar stools overlooking the DJ booth and dance floor below.
People began drifting in after ten so I hung out at the front bar with a good view of the entrance. The bartender must have thought I was a novice undercover agent or something - he kept offering me drinks at half price. Finally I begged him for coffee so the room wouldn't spin.
As soon as I finished choking on the first swallow of the ghastly coffee(??), Sophi was in my face.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
"Nice to see you too, sis"
"Go away. This is my hangout, not yours," she said with the politeness of a pit bull about to bite.
"I heard that Natasha was out of the hospital," I said while staring at the front door. "And rumor has it that she'll be here tonight, so I thought I'd drop by and see how she's doing."
"How charming. Who told you?"
"You did."
"Who else?"
"I have my sources."
And then I saw her. Natasha walked in with a cluster of friends, decked out in a black & crimson dress peeled like a sticker off from her boyfriend's Bugatti. She stopped a few steps in as her companions walked on without noticing and newcomers skirted around her. She looked around the room now swarming with clubbers like herself, noticed Sophi and I standing by the bar....and walked out the door.
"Nice job, golovnik. You scared her off."
Sophi marched away leaving me standing with a cold cup of sludge. They never came back and I couldn't find them outside either. I looked for the Bugatti in the parking lot, but of course it wasn't there - it was now a junk yard trophy.
Just think, I spent nearly a quarter of my travel allowance in less than 12 hours and got to see Natasha for, like, 10 seconds.
My train pulled into Qaos shortly after seven and I took a cab straight to the Metropole....and arrived one and a half hours before it even opened. I guess I should've checked out their VK page first.
After nibbling on an overpriced dinner, I had to shell out another 80 rublie (about $40) for the cover charge. When the doorman told me the price, I was a tad bit shocked and blurted out "What!" so he kindly clarified with a wide gold-tooth grin, "That will be eight zero."
"That's highway robbery," I replied. He smiled and took my rublei.
I drifted around & around & around the cavernous club for the first hour, admiring (or not) the glow-in-the-dark mythical beasts cavorting along the walls. The second floor was basically an extra wide balcony with sofas along the walls and small tables with bar stools overlooking the DJ booth and dance floor below.
People began drifting in after ten so I hung out at the front bar with a good view of the entrance. The bartender must have thought I was a novice undercover agent or something - he kept offering me drinks at half price. Finally I begged him for coffee so the room wouldn't spin.
As soon as I finished choking on the first swallow of the ghastly coffee(??), Sophi was in my face.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
"Nice to see you too, sis"
"Go away. This is my hangout, not yours," she said with the politeness of a pit bull about to bite.
"I heard that Natasha was out of the hospital," I said while staring at the front door. "And rumor has it that she'll be here tonight, so I thought I'd drop by and see how she's doing."
"How charming. Who told you?"
"You did."
"Who else?"
"I have my sources."
And then I saw her. Natasha walked in with a cluster of friends, decked out in a black & crimson dress peeled like a sticker off from her boyfriend's Bugatti. She stopped a few steps in as her companions walked on without noticing and newcomers skirted around her. She looked around the room now swarming with clubbers like herself, noticed Sophi and I standing by the bar....and walked out the door.
"Nice job, golovnik. You scared her off."
Sophi marched away leaving me standing with a cold cup of sludge. They never came back and I couldn't find them outside either. I looked for the Bugatti in the parking lot, but of course it wasn't there - it was now a junk yard trophy.
Just think, I spent nearly a quarter of my travel allowance in less than 12 hours and got to see Natasha for, like, 10 seconds.
The Smiths - How Soon is Now?
House of Heroes - The Worst Kind of Gods
Desperate Spirit
Saturday, 22 June
House of Heroes - The Worst Kind of Gods
Success at last! On Aunt K's present anyhow.
When I was lamenting to PK on Thursday about wasting half my vacation looking for a stupid present he suggested one of his default gifts - a cookbook. It sounded like a great idea...until I went to his favorite bookstore and saw dozens, nay hundreds, of books to choose from. 😓 I wish I checked out Aunt K's kitchen to see what she already had.
Then, out of the blue:
"Excuse me, are you Otto?" a female voice said behind me.
"Umm, sure?" I said.
"Sorry to startle you," a girl who was not Natasha said. "Your cousin called earlier and said you'd stop by to pick up a book for your aunt.
"Oh, right," I said. "Any suggest--"
"It's already up front," she said as she walked away.
I stood for a few moments, confused, and then followed her. How did Sophi know I was coming here? My confusion turned into something else when the salesperson hefted a book - a 612-page tome on Mediterranean Cuisine - onto the counter.
A guy with a scraggly beard and a beat-up cowboy hat was sorting through a pile of books at the far end of the counter. He looked over and chuckled.
"A bit more book than you expected, huh?" he said.
"Umm, yeah. How much is it?"
"250 rublei," the girl said timidly.
"What?!"
"Twooo fifteey," Cowboy shouted.
She glared at him and then back at my dumbfounded face.
"You know what?" she said. "We just got a shipment of new books, including a cookbook --- much smaller than this one! -- with recipes from over a dozen countries. We haven't even unpacked them yet. Would you like to see it?"
"Sure," I said with renewed enthusiasm. The girl disappeared into the back and my attention turned to the painting on the wall in front of me - a red giraffe with brown spots shaped like crosses.
"400 rublei, but it's worth it."
"Excuse me?" I said to Cowboy.
"The painting, which I'm guessing your aunt would enjoy a lot more than yet another cookbook."
"It's nice, but I can hardly afford this book let alone that."
"I'll tell you what," he said as he lifted the picture off the wall and handed it to me. "I know the artist, so I'll give you a discount - 360 rublei."
"How about 300?"
"340 and I'll throw in this book of poetry which your aunt will love." He picked up small book with a stitched binding. "I'll even get the author to sign it."
"Put that back on the wall, Dmitri," the girl said as she returned to the register. "This is a bookstore, not a gallery. And that's decoration."
"No, it's not," Dmitri said.
"You said 340?" I asked the guy.
"300," the girl said.
"Noooo," Dmitri said to her. "Go away Alyss. Let me handle this -- wait, sign this first."
"Dmitri, stop it. You don't even work here." She nudged him away from the counter. "300 for the painting, the poems, and this," she said and gave me a pristine copy of Two Hundred Cultural Favorites from Around the Mediterranean.
"My goodness," Dmitri said. "Someone needs to learn the fine art of negotiating."
Alyss smiled.
"You're right," she said and studied me for a few seconds. "250 and a lifetime of lattes."
"But you'll probably never see me again."
"I'll take my chances."
And that, Quinn, is how I got a painting and two books for the price of a oversized paperweight. Not a bad deal, eh?
I'm starting to wonder though if Sophi stuck a bug on me.
~ M
When I was lamenting to PK on Thursday about wasting half my vacation looking for a stupid present he suggested one of his default gifts - a cookbook. It sounded like a great idea...until I went to his favorite bookstore and saw dozens, nay hundreds, of books to choose from. 😓 I wish I checked out Aunt K's kitchen to see what she already had.
Then, out of the blue:
"Excuse me, are you Otto?" a female voice said behind me.
"Umm, sure?" I said.
"Sorry to startle you," a girl who was not Natasha said. "Your cousin called earlier and said you'd stop by to pick up a book for your aunt.
"Oh, right," I said. "Any suggest--"
"It's already up front," she said as she walked away.
I stood for a few moments, confused, and then followed her. How did Sophi know I was coming here? My confusion turned into something else when the salesperson hefted a book - a 612-page tome on Mediterranean Cuisine - onto the counter.
A guy with a scraggly beard and a beat-up cowboy hat was sorting through a pile of books at the far end of the counter. He looked over and chuckled.
"A bit more book than you expected, huh?" he said.
"Umm, yeah. How much is it?"
"250 rublei," the girl said timidly.
"What?!"
"Twooo fifteey," Cowboy shouted.
She glared at him and then back at my dumbfounded face.
"You know what?" she said. "We just got a shipment of new books, including a cookbook --- much smaller than this one! -- with recipes from over a dozen countries. We haven't even unpacked them yet. Would you like to see it?"
"Sure," I said with renewed enthusiasm. The girl disappeared into the back and my attention turned to the painting on the wall in front of me - a red giraffe with brown spots shaped like crosses.
"400 rublei, but it's worth it."
"Excuse me?" I said to Cowboy.
"The painting, which I'm guessing your aunt would enjoy a lot more than yet another cookbook."
"It's nice, but I can hardly afford this book let alone that."
"I'll tell you what," he said as he lifted the picture off the wall and handed it to me. "I know the artist, so I'll give you a discount - 360 rublei."
"How about 300?"
"340 and I'll throw in this book of poetry which your aunt will love." He picked up small book with a stitched binding. "I'll even get the author to sign it."
"Put that back on the wall, Dmitri," the girl said as she returned to the register. "This is a bookstore, not a gallery. And that's decoration."
"No, it's not," Dmitri said.
"You said 340?" I asked the guy.
"300," the girl said.
"Noooo," Dmitri said to her. "Go away Alyss. Let me handle this -- wait, sign this first."
"Dmitri, stop it. You don't even work here." She nudged him away from the counter. "300 for the painting, the poems, and this," she said and gave me a pristine copy of Two Hundred Cultural Favorites from Around the Mediterranean.
"My goodness," Dmitri said. "Someone needs to learn the fine art of negotiating."
Alyss smiled.
"You're right," she said and studied me for a few seconds. "250 and a lifetime of lattes."
"But you'll probably never see me again."
"I'll take my chances."
And that, Quinn, is how I got a painting and two books for the price of a oversized paperweight. Not a bad deal, eh?
I'm starting to wonder though if Sophi stuck a bug on me.
~ M
Richard Montoya - Self-Portrait
(http://richardmontoya.net)
The Sign of Human (feat. Wang Yujun) - Light Off (關上所有的燈)
(http://richardmontoya.net)
Ch 4
Half Empty
Sunday, 23 June
Talkie - Church
Good morning Q,
You'll be happy to know that I actually went to church today. It's Aunt K's birthday, so how could I refuse? 😉
Plus, I was looking forward to seeing the inside of the cathedral again -- the six-story vaulted ceiling, the 50-foot stained glass windows, the glitterati. Especially, the glitterati. This island's full of them.
But Aunt K just had to throw me a curve ball. We drove into town, around the plaza and past the cathedral, and zipped out the other side...to a little hillside village across the island! Her church is now a squat little building with a bleached-white pockmarked exterior. A Mediterranean take on The Alamo. And it's next to an especially fragrant fish market to boot. 🐟
I must admit though, the inside of the church was not something I expected out in the middle of nowhere. While Aunt K said countless bonjours, habari somethings, and dobroye utros with everyone around us, I was transfixed by the murals and inscriptions covering every inch of the place. Biblical images and stories were painted between every window, on every column, and even on the ceiling. Simple, bright, and stunning.
After the opening song, and right when I sat down, everyone started roaming around the church exchanging even more bonjours, habaris, and dobroye utros. Moments later, Aunt K introduced me to the pastor's grand-daughter -- a girl about our age -- and her stern-looking mother. The mother's cheerful disposition probably didn't improve when I pulled out my phone to see why my pocket was buzzing...but I'll never know for sure since she and her daughter were gone not five seconds later when Aunt K scolded me.
"Mikhail Nikolayevich Indyuk, I know I raised you with better manners than that."
"Sorry," I said. "It was a text from Sophi. I thought it might be important."
"Was it?"
"I don't know. I couldn't read it."
It's true. I have no idea what "T7 N DMZ" means.
During prayer I texted Sophi back: "What?"
She replied: "Nevrmnde"
As soon as church was over I asked Aunt K if I could step out for some fresh air, and since the breeze from the fish market wasn't fresh enough I decided to take a stroll down the street. On the edge of town was yet another colorful sight -- a cemetery with painted tombstones.
Hundreds of stones, and not a single dull one in sight. One stone showed an old man lounging in a hammock on a beach, another of a child playing with a kite. The more exquisite ones seemed to have memories from a place once called home. Giraffes under an acacia tree, a lake full of flamingos, a woman riding a moped while balancing a tall basket on her head.
My favorite stones showed a man standing next to a fish taller than himself, and next to it was one for his wife who passed away two years later and had a similar picture...but with a bigger fish.
When Aunt K found me, she wanted to show me another one. Under the shade of a flowering purple Jacaranda tree was her tombstone with a picture of two people swimming underwater in what looked like a sea cave. I thought Aunt K was going to tell me she had cancer or something, but fortunately not.
"So why do you have one already?" I asked. "What if you want to change it later?"
"Besides raising you and Sophi, this is my favorite memory and that will never change. Plus, I've always had a feeling that I would die young and didn't want to end up with a boring tombstone," she said with a smile.
"Why do you think that?"
"That's a story for another time -- and certainly not on my birthday!"
Quinn, wherever I'm buried just make sure I'm buried with the proper name, ok?
~ Misha
Paper Route - Laugh About It
You'll be happy to know that I actually went to church today. It's Aunt K's birthday, so how could I refuse? 😉
Plus, I was looking forward to seeing the inside of the cathedral again -- the six-story vaulted ceiling, the 50-foot stained glass windows, the glitterati. Especially, the glitterati. This island's full of them.
But Aunt K just had to throw me a curve ball. We drove into town, around the plaza and past the cathedral, and zipped out the other side...to a little hillside village across the island! Her church is now a squat little building with a bleached-white pockmarked exterior. A Mediterranean take on The Alamo. And it's next to an especially fragrant fish market to boot. 🐟
I must admit though, the inside of the church was not something I expected out in the middle of nowhere. While Aunt K said countless bonjours, habari somethings, and dobroye utros with everyone around us, I was transfixed by the murals and inscriptions covering every inch of the place. Biblical images and stories were painted between every window, on every column, and even on the ceiling. Simple, bright, and stunning.
After the opening song, and right when I sat down, everyone started roaming around the church exchanging even more bonjours, habaris, and dobroye utros. Moments later, Aunt K introduced me to the pastor's grand-daughter -- a girl about our age -- and her stern-looking mother. The mother's cheerful disposition probably didn't improve when I pulled out my phone to see why my pocket was buzzing...but I'll never know for sure since she and her daughter were gone not five seconds later when Aunt K scolded me.
"Mikhail Nikolayevich Indyuk, I know I raised you with better manners than that."
"Sorry," I said. "It was a text from Sophi. I thought it might be important."
"Was it?"
"I don't know. I couldn't read it."
It's true. I have no idea what "T7 N DMZ" means.
During prayer I texted Sophi back: "What?"
She replied: "Nevrmnde"
As soon as church was over I asked Aunt K if I could step out for some fresh air, and since the breeze from the fish market wasn't fresh enough I decided to take a stroll down the street. On the edge of town was yet another colorful sight -- a cemetery with painted tombstones.
Hundreds of stones, and not a single dull one in sight. One stone showed an old man lounging in a hammock on a beach, another of a child playing with a kite. The more exquisite ones seemed to have memories from a place once called home. Giraffes under an acacia tree, a lake full of flamingos, a woman riding a moped while balancing a tall basket on her head.
My favorite stones showed a man standing next to a fish taller than himself, and next to it was one for his wife who passed away two years later and had a similar picture...but with a bigger fish.
When Aunt K found me, she wanted to show me another one. Under the shade of a flowering purple Jacaranda tree was her tombstone with a picture of two people swimming underwater in what looked like a sea cave. I thought Aunt K was going to tell me she had cancer or something, but fortunately not.
"So why do you have one already?" I asked. "What if you want to change it later?"
"Besides raising you and Sophi, this is my favorite memory and that will never change. Plus, I've always had a feeling that I would die young and didn't want to end up with a boring tombstone," she said with a smile.
"Why do you think that?"
"That's a story for another time -- and certainly not on my birthday!"
Quinn, wherever I'm buried just make sure I'm buried with the proper name, ok?
~ Misha
Mukalay Ngoy Lwamba - Unknown Title (wish I knew)
Too Easy
Monday, 24 June
Paper Route - Laugh About It
Sophi actually dropped by for cake and coffee yesterday which brightened Aunt K's day to no end. She was practically in tears that Sophi got her a present and actually did shed a few when she unpacked the beautiful blue-hued vase Sophi got her. When I looked at the vase later, I saw a Red Zebra stamp and the initials "EMD" on the bottom. Thank goodness I didn't settle for that stupid cookbook Sophi tried to con me into buying!
Aunt K loved the giraffe painting and then I gave her the Med Coast recipe book with "from Sophi and Misha" on the label.
"Did you two actually go shopping together?"
"No," Sophi said after an uncomfortable pause.
"I picked it up, but it was Sophi's idea," I said, hoping for a look of surprise, anger -- or any reaction really -- from Sophi, but only got disinterest.
Aunt K unwrapped it, remarking how thoughtful we were....and then Sophi pulled out a cigarette and lighter.
"Sophia Katarina Indyuk...," Aunt K started to say.
"Fine," Sophi replied with a sigh and went out on the back deck.
A few minutes later, Aunt K began her "clean my kitchen" routine, so I went out to chat with Sophi. The air outside was a curious mixture of cloves and sea water.
"What did the text say this morning?" I asked her.
"Nothing."
Then why did you send it?"
"I was drunk."
"It was ten in the morning!"
"Whatever," she said after a final draw on her cigarette. She flung it over the rails and turned to go back inside.
"How did you know I was going to the bookstore yesterday?" I continued.
"Same way you knew which club Natasha was going to -- Poly.
So, maybe Sophi's text this morning was meant for PK, not me. If so, what would "T7 N DMZ" mean to him?
After a tossing and turning half the night, I think I finally figured it out:
I'm pretty sure "N" means Natasha.
And "T7"? The next "Tuesday 7th" is in August and "Thursday 7th" is February, so those are out. Must be tomorrow at 7:00...or maybe Thursday. Ugh.
As to "DMZ," there's a place in Qaos (a nightclub, no less) called DMZ, but the doors don't even open until 10. Of course, Sophi, Natasha, and PK could just be meeting there and heading somewhere else, I suppose.
Sooooo: "Tuesday 7:00, Natasha @ DMZ."
Sounds logical enough to me. Guess I'll be taking a little ferry / train ride on Tuesday.
I just hope I'm not the only one there.
Yue Minjun - Untitled
The Primitives - Outside
Flyleaf - All Around Me
Aunt K loved the giraffe painting and then I gave her the Med Coast recipe book with "from Sophi and Misha" on the label.
"Did you two actually go shopping together?"
"No," Sophi said after an uncomfortable pause.
"I picked it up, but it was Sophi's idea," I said, hoping for a look of surprise, anger -- or any reaction really -- from Sophi, but only got disinterest.
Aunt K unwrapped it, remarking how thoughtful we were....and then Sophi pulled out a cigarette and lighter.
"Sophia Katarina Indyuk...," Aunt K started to say.
"Fine," Sophi replied with a sigh and went out on the back deck.
A few minutes later, Aunt K began her "clean my kitchen" routine, so I went out to chat with Sophi. The air outside was a curious mixture of cloves and sea water.
"What did the text say this morning?" I asked her.
"Nothing."
Then why did you send it?"
"I was drunk."
"It was ten in the morning!"
"Whatever," she said after a final draw on her cigarette. She flung it over the rails and turned to go back inside.
"How did you know I was going to the bookstore yesterday?" I continued.
"Same way you knew which club Natasha was going to -- Poly.
So, maybe Sophi's text this morning was meant for PK, not me. If so, what would "T7 N DMZ" mean to him?
After a tossing and turning half the night, I think I finally figured it out:
I'm pretty sure "N" means Natasha.
And "T7"? The next "Tuesday 7th" is in August and "Thursday 7th" is February, so those are out. Must be tomorrow at 7:00...or maybe Thursday. Ugh.
As to "DMZ," there's a place in Qaos (a nightclub, no less) called DMZ, but the doors don't even open until 10. Of course, Sophi, Natasha, and PK could just be meeting there and heading somewhere else, I suppose.
Sooooo: "Tuesday 7:00, Natasha @ DMZ."
Sounds logical enough to me. Guess I'll be taking a little ferry / train ride on Tuesday.
I just hope I'm not the only one there.
Window
Tuesday, 25 June
I gave Aunt K the poetry book at breakfast this morning. She seemed delighted with a surprise gift...and then suddenly got ecstatic over it.
"It is her!"
"It's who?" I asked.
She showed me the signature underneath the sentence "I came that they may have life and have it abundantly" written on the flyleaf.
"Alyss Ducati," she said. "I haven't heard that name in a long, long time."
"The girl in the bookstore did that," I said.
"Really? She didn't remember you, did she?"
"Uh, no. Should she?"
"Did she have a light mark right here on her cheek?" Aunt K asked pointing by her right ear.
"I didn't notice," I replied.
"When she was a little girl," Aunt K continued, "Alyss would cry when her mom was getting her ready for church. She would look in the mirror and try to rub the spot off. But one day, your mom asked her if an angel touched her there. Alyss was very proud of her mark after that."
"My mom?"
Aunt K left the table and came back a few minutes later with a black-and-white photo. I recognized my mom who was sitting on the floor looking at two babies, one on its back and another on its stomach looking down at the first one.
"This one's you." Aunt K said pointing at the baby laying on its back.
"And this one is Alyss," she said.
I was shocked to say the least. Apparently, our families used to be close...until my stepfather barged into my life.
Serendipity or zemblanity?
Lyubov Popova - Still Life With Tray
R.E.M - Driver 8
"It is her!"
"It's who?" I asked.
She showed me the signature underneath the sentence "I came that they may have life and have it abundantly" written on the flyleaf.
"Alyss Ducati," she said. "I haven't heard that name in a long, long time."
"The girl in the bookstore did that," I said.
"Really? She didn't remember you, did she?"
"Uh, no. Should she?"
"Did she have a light mark right here on her cheek?" Aunt K asked pointing by her right ear.
"I didn't notice," I replied.
"When she was a little girl," Aunt K continued, "Alyss would cry when her mom was getting her ready for church. She would look in the mirror and try to rub the spot off. But one day, your mom asked her if an angel touched her there. Alyss was very proud of her mark after that."
"My mom?"
Aunt K left the table and came back a few minutes later with a black-and-white photo. I recognized my mom who was sitting on the floor looking at two babies, one on its back and another on its stomach looking down at the first one.
"This one's you." Aunt K said pointing at the baby laying on its back.
"And this one is Alyss," she said.
I was shocked to say the least. Apparently, our families used to be close...until my stepfather barged into my life.
Still a Ways Away
Tuesday, 25 June
R.E.M - Driver 8
I'm stuck on a train halfway to Qaos thanks to a broken locomotive up ahead. It's after six o'clock already and we've been sitting in one spot for over two hours! The air-conditioning is off, the windows barely open, and it's getting atrociously hot and claustrophobic in here!!
Trying to distract myself, I searched VK and Instagram for Natasha, which wasn't too hard to find since PK said that she's the mayor's daughter. But apparently Natasha Kadyrova (or more likely herbabysitter handler) doesn't want the whole world to see her party pics. A few formal group photos and some cat memes, and that's about all I could see. What a shame.
So then I looked up the John 10 quote which Alyss wrote in Aunt K's book. Found it easily enough: "I came that they may have life and have it abundantly."
But that's only the second half of verse 10. The first half is a bit less inspiring: "The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy." I see why Alyss left that out. 😟
The train just moved! But there's no way I'm going to make a 7:00 rendezvous, which makes this trip kinda worthless.
UPDATE: While plundering my bag for a phone charger, I just came across the flyer Alyss gave me for a gig she's playing with a couple friends:
I just found my DMZ.
Trying to distract myself, I searched VK and Instagram for Natasha, which wasn't too hard to find since PK said that she's the mayor's daughter. But apparently Natasha Kadyrova (or more likely her
So then I looked up the John 10 quote which Alyss wrote in Aunt K's book. Found it easily enough: "I came that they may have life and have it abundantly."
But that's only the second half of verse 10. The first half is a bit less inspiring: "The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy." I see why Alyss left that out. 😟
The train just moved! But there's no way I'm going to make a 7:00 rendezvous, which makes this trip kinda worthless.
UPDATE: While plundering my bag for a phone charger, I just came across the flyer Alyss gave me for a gig she's playing with a couple friends:
Book of Days
7:00 Tuesday 6.26.2018
Café de Marzipan
I just found my DMZ.
Vincent van Gogh - Evening Landscape with Rising Moon
The Air I'm Breathing
Wednesday, 26 June
Flyleaf - All Around Me
I got to the café shortly before nine. Came in through the side door, ordered myself a Ristretto Quad Americano with more ingredients than it's polite to repeat (you turned me into a coffee snob, Quinn) and scanned the room while the barista was making my concoction.
Dang! That girl's irritating. I looked around but didn't see her. I texted a snide comment back to her, she sent a crass emoji back to me, and the next thing I knew everyone was clapping. The show was over.
I watched as Natasha went up and started talking with the band. This was the perfect moment for me -- Alyss invited me to the show, Alyss was now talking with Natasha, I get to tell Alyss how well she sang and boom! I chat with Natasha. I started to make me way through the crowded room, but, alas, Natasha, Alyss, and Blue Streak went out the door before I was halfway there. 😧
So I ordered another coffee, and watched folks mingle while waiting for them to return.
But Natasha et al. never came back and the remaining band mates didn't seem to care. They packed up their instruments and left with a small entourage as the café workers were cleaning up for the night, and I went out the door shortly after them.
It wasn't hard to follow them. As a matter of fact, it was more difficult not to catch up with them! They were slow, loud, and seemingly directionless. But many turns and a number of blocks later I finally recognized a familiar site -- All Saints Church. And that's where my group disappeared.
I wasn't exactly going to follow them in or hang out in the cemetery and chance freaking someone out again, so off to the Kempinski I went for another night of restless dreams. I wonder if I've earned a free night's stay yet.
Switchfoot - Afterlife
It took a few scans across the crowded room, but finally I recognized her. Sitting at a small square table halfway across the room next to a girl with bright blue streaks in her hair and a guy with an equally blue chin tail, was Natasha Kadyrova. No fancy outfit, just a simple t-shirt and jeans with her hair in a ponytail, absorbed by the music in front of her.
After I got my coffee, I found a nearby wall to stand against and tried to watch the band, but with little success. Alyss sat on a stool singing, Bookstore Cowboy played acoustic guitar, an Asian guy played mandolin, and my eyes diverted back to Natasha. I saw her wipe her eyes a couple times and then she nodded her head when Blue Streak said something to her.
My phone started vibrating.
Message from Sophi: Stop staring
After I got my coffee, I found a nearby wall to stand against and tried to watch the band, but with little success. Alyss sat on a stool singing, Bookstore Cowboy played acoustic guitar, an Asian guy played mandolin, and my eyes diverted back to Natasha. I saw her wipe her eyes a couple times and then she nodded her head when Blue Streak said something to her.
My phone started vibrating.
Message from Sophi: Stop staring
Dang! That girl's irritating. I looked around but didn't see her. I texted a snide comment back to her, she sent a crass emoji back to me, and the next thing I knew everyone was clapping. The show was over.
I watched as Natasha went up and started talking with the band. This was the perfect moment for me -- Alyss invited me to the show, Alyss was now talking with Natasha, I get to tell Alyss how well she sang and boom! I chat with Natasha. I started to make me way through the crowded room, but, alas, Natasha, Alyss, and Blue Streak went out the door before I was halfway there. 😧
So I ordered another coffee, and watched folks mingle while waiting for them to return.
But Natasha et al. never came back and the remaining band mates didn't seem to care. They packed up their instruments and left with a small entourage as the café workers were cleaning up for the night, and I went out the door shortly after them.
It wasn't hard to follow them. As a matter of fact, it was more difficult not to catch up with them! They were slow, loud, and seemingly directionless. But many turns and a number of blocks later I finally recognized a familiar site -- All Saints Church. And that's where my group disappeared.
I wasn't exactly going to follow them in or hang out in the cemetery and chance freaking someone out again, so off to the Kempinski I went for another night of restless dreams. I wonder if I've earned a free night's stay yet.
Olya Tkachenko - Golden June
(www.olika.ca)
A Chance to Change
Friday, 28 June
Switchfoot - Afterlife
Foiled again! This time by my aunt.
I took a hike this afternoon to a small lighthouse about halfway up the shoreline. It's at the end of a long boulder-strewn breakwall popular with both leisurely tourists (me today) and fleet-footed kids & young adults (me two years ago). I have some fond memories of this place -- as well as a few bruising memories from missteps hopping from one boulder to the next.
On the way back to shore, I saw boats traveling to or from the marina in the distance, kids flying kites along the beach, and a lone figure sitting close to the water not too far beyond the wall, arms wrapped around her tucked-up knees. I knew who it was even before I could see her face, even though I last saw her 200 km away.
She was staring at the sea, oblivious to kites, boats, and even strangers stumbling on rocks trying to reach her. Natasha was still watching the sea five minutes later when I neared the shore and first heard Aunt K calling my name from a hundred meters away:
"Mishaaaa! Dinner's ready!"
I almost tripped and did a face-plant. By the time my shoes hit the sand, my aunt was still walking towards me and Natasha was walking the other way.
I have to be the only spy ever escorted home for supper.
Who eats dinner at 2:00 in the afternoon anyways?
Everyone Moves Away - We're Only Getting Closer
I took a hike this afternoon to a small lighthouse about halfway up the shoreline. It's at the end of a long boulder-strewn breakwall popular with both leisurely tourists (me today) and fleet-footed kids & young adults (me two years ago). I have some fond memories of this place -- as well as a few bruising memories from missteps hopping from one boulder to the next.
On the way back to shore, I saw boats traveling to or from the marina in the distance, kids flying kites along the beach, and a lone figure sitting close to the water not too far beyond the wall, arms wrapped around her tucked-up knees. I knew who it was even before I could see her face, even though I last saw her 200 km away.
She was staring at the sea, oblivious to kites, boats, and even strangers stumbling on rocks trying to reach her. Natasha was still watching the sea five minutes later when I neared the shore and first heard Aunt K calling my name from a hundred meters away:
"Mishaaaa! Dinner's ready!"
I almost tripped and did a face-plant. By the time my shoes hit the sand, my aunt was still walking towards me and Natasha was walking the other way.
I have to be the only spy ever escorted home for supper.
Who eats dinner at 2:00 in the afternoon anyways?
Willem De Kooning - Whose Name Was Writ in Water
Ch 5
Beggar's Tongue
Sunday 30 June
Good morning Quinn,
I spent the last couple o' days strolling up & down the coast and idling the evenings away with Aunt K. Sounds relaxing, right? Should be, but my thoughts are on hyperdrive.
I'm starting to wonder if I really did see Natasha the other day or if my mind was being tricksy. What's the chance that I would see her in Qaos one night and then on Gov. Island three days later? Sophi isn't any help either...her texts don't even make sense half the time.
Oh well, tomorrow I head back to Qaos, have one last obligatory dinner with Sophi & Indyuk on Thursday and fly home on Friday(!!!!!) Ready to have me back yet?
Aunt K made me promise to bring you next summer, no matter how much Uncle Z protests. She even threatened to flood him with postcards, letters and phone calls (weekly at first, then daily) until he gives in. He can only ignore his sister's most humble request for so long. :-)
See you soon!
~ Misha
P.S. Have you picked out the three concerts I owe you?
Macbeth - There's She (她)
Thousand Foot Krutch - Light Up the Sky
I spent the last couple o' days strolling up & down the coast and idling the evenings away with Aunt K. Sounds relaxing, right? Should be, but my thoughts are on hyperdrive.
I'm starting to wonder if I really did see Natasha the other day or if my mind was being tricksy. What's the chance that I would see her in Qaos one night and then on Gov. Island three days later? Sophi isn't any help either...her texts don't even make sense half the time.
Oh well, tomorrow I head back to Qaos, have one last obligatory dinner with Sophi & Indyuk on Thursday and fly home on Friday(!!!!!) Ready to have me back yet?
Aunt K made me promise to bring you next summer, no matter how much Uncle Z protests. She even threatened to flood him with postcards, letters and phone calls (weekly at first, then daily) until he gives in. He can only ignore his sister's most humble request for so long. :-)
See you soon!
~ Misha
P.S. Have you picked out the three concerts I owe you?
Len Thomas-Vickory - Enso Over Rice Field Near Kyoto
(www.29cabot.com)
Pools of Sorrow, Waves of Joy
Tuesday, 2 July 2024
Fiona Apple - Across the Universe
Tonight I went to a cafe next to the bookstore where I scored the books and the painting for my aunt's bday. It's on the corner of Senk and Canal and is one of a string of colorfully themed businesses: Black Squirrel Café, Blue Heron Bookstore, Red Zebra Gallery....I'm pretty sure I saw a Pink Cow nearby as well.
I thought a summer weeknight would be a quiet one, but nooooo. Fortunately I found a small table by the main door and next to the window which suited me just fine. There was a bit of a queue by the counter so I just sat and looked around. An older gent with wire-rimmed glasses and a trim goatee sat on a stool in the far corner tuning a guitar while chatting and laughing with friends; and on the other side of the room sat a couple folks I recognized from last week's cafe outing, Cowboy and Asian guy, as well as a guy with a blue chin tail, which I'm guessing is Blue Streak's significant other. No Natasha though.
Just as I was about to get a coffee a waiter came over, wiped the table, and put down a cup across the table from me. A latte topped with whipped cream and caramel drizzle.
"Excuse me, I didn't order anything."
"Would you like something, sir?"
"I'll take a caramel frappé with...never mind, I'll just drink that," I said, resigned to drink whatever took the least effort.
"Caramel frappé with....?"
"Caramel frappé with soy milk and no whip," I said with hesitation.
"I'll bring it right over," he said with a smile and turned away.
"But what about....," I said while pointing at the cup he no longer cared about.
But someone else did.
"You're still here!" Alyss said as she sat down and took a sip from the mystery cup.
A minute later the waiter returned with my coffee and a bill which included a caramel latte with whipped cream.
"Lattes for life, remember?"
"I fly out Friday."
She frowned. "Next summer?"
"Maybe, but save your change just in case."
All in all, it was a nice evening, Quinn. Had a nice chat with Alyss (that cost me a couple lattes) and heard a slew of Beatles songs from Captain Brady. Alyss says he's an American expat. Apparently, one can't escape the Beatles...even in the hinterlands of southeastern Europe.
~ M
I thought a summer weeknight would be a quiet one, but nooooo. Fortunately I found a small table by the main door and next to the window which suited me just fine. There was a bit of a queue by the counter so I just sat and looked around. An older gent with wire-rimmed glasses and a trim goatee sat on a stool in the far corner tuning a guitar while chatting and laughing with friends; and on the other side of the room sat a couple folks I recognized from last week's cafe outing, Cowboy and Asian guy, as well as a guy with a blue chin tail, which I'm guessing is Blue Streak's significant other. No Natasha though.
Just as I was about to get a coffee a waiter came over, wiped the table, and put down a cup across the table from me. A latte topped with whipped cream and caramel drizzle.
"Excuse me, I didn't order anything."
"Would you like something, sir?"
"I'll take a caramel frappé with...never mind, I'll just drink that," I said, resigned to drink whatever took the least effort.
"Caramel frappé with....?"
"Caramel frappé with soy milk and no whip," I said with hesitation.
"I'll bring it right over," he said with a smile and turned away.
"But what about....," I said while pointing at the cup he no longer cared about.
But someone else did.
"You're still here!" Alyss said as she sat down and took a sip from the mystery cup.
A minute later the waiter returned with my coffee and a bill which included a caramel latte with whipped cream.
"Lattes for life, remember?"
"I fly out Friday."
She frowned. "Next summer?"
"Maybe, but save your change just in case."
All in all, it was a nice evening, Quinn. Had a nice chat with Alyss (that cost me a couple lattes) and heard a slew of Beatles songs from Captain Brady. Alyss says he's an American expat. Apparently, one can't escape the Beatles...even in the hinterlands of southeastern Europe.
~ M
The Beatles - Across the Universe
Fear of Reality
Wednesday, 3 July
Macbeth - There's She (她)
Started my morning at Svaboda Park sitting on a bench in the middle of a 8 x 10 island connected to the shore by a spit of land and a bright red arched bridge.
When I come here, I can picture my mom sitting on this same bench long long ago holding me while I bounce up and down on her lap excited by the swans and their little gray kidlings floating by in a line just a few meters away. It's the most peaceful spot in all of Qaos, Quinn.
And then I saw Sophi walking towards me and the picture vanished. She ruins everything.
"I just came to say goodbye," she said.
"Goodbye? Aren't you coming to dinner tonight?
"Can't. Busy."
"You're leaving me out to dry, huh?" I said.
"What?"
"You're spoiling my last supper. What can your dad and I possibly talk about over wild boar and porcini mushrooms?"
"You'll be fine," she said. "Just don't say anything stupid. Anyways, goodbye."
She turned to go.
"Wait," I said.
"What?"
"At least sit with me for a few minutes."
"Fine," she said and sat stiffly on the edge of the bench.
"Well," she said after a few moments of awkward silence. "What do you want?"
"Perhaps I just want to enjoy your company before I fly 7,000 klicks away.
"Yeah, right."
We stared at the lake for another minute and then I broke the silence. "You don't want me to know Natasha, do you? Are you afraid that she might actually like me?"
Sophi laughed. "I don't think so."
"Because you hate me?"
"There is that," she replied.
"You're pitiful."
"Look," she said. "She's my only true friend and I don't need you messing that up."
I didn't know how to respond.
"Alrighty then," she said. "Now wasn't that quaint. Goodbye again."
Sophi got up and started walking away.
"One more thing," I said.
"What!" she groaned.
"What secret squirrel app do you use to track my phone?"
"I am not tracking you," Sophi replied. "You're not exactly hard to find, you know."
"Then how do you do it?"
"You showed your passport to the hospital receptionist who knows dad. I ran into Polly the morning you went to the bookstore. A friend of mine at the cafe saw us together at the Metropole. There, satisfied?"
She didn't bother to mention how she found me this time.
"That's all nice to know," I said, "but you still didn't answer my question."
"There is no such app, moron."
And that's how we said our goodbyes. Gosh, I'll miss her...almost as much as she already misses me.
When I come here, I can picture my mom sitting on this same bench long long ago holding me while I bounce up and down on her lap excited by the swans and their little gray kidlings floating by in a line just a few meters away. It's the most peaceful spot in all of Qaos, Quinn.
And then I saw Sophi walking towards me and the picture vanished. She ruins everything.
"I just came to say goodbye," she said.
"Goodbye? Aren't you coming to dinner tonight?
"Can't. Busy."
"You're leaving me out to dry, huh?" I said.
"What?"
"You're spoiling my last supper. What can your dad and I possibly talk about over wild boar and porcini mushrooms?"
"You'll be fine," she said. "Just don't say anything stupid. Anyways, goodbye."
She turned to go.
"Wait," I said.
"What?"
"At least sit with me for a few minutes."
"Fine," she said and sat stiffly on the edge of the bench.
"Well," she said after a few moments of awkward silence. "What do you want?"
"Perhaps I just want to enjoy your company before I fly 7,000 klicks away.
"Yeah, right."
We stared at the lake for another minute and then I broke the silence. "You don't want me to know Natasha, do you? Are you afraid that she might actually like me?"
Sophi laughed. "I don't think so."
"Because you hate me?"
"There is that," she replied.
"You're pitiful."
"Look," she said. "She's my only true friend and I don't need you messing that up."
I didn't know how to respond.
"Alrighty then," she said. "Now wasn't that quaint. Goodbye again."
Sophi got up and started walking away.
"One more thing," I said.
"What!" she groaned.
"What secret squirrel app do you use to track my phone?"
"I am not tracking you," Sophi replied. "You're not exactly hard to find, you know."
"Then how do you do it?"
"You showed your passport to the hospital receptionist who knows dad. I ran into Polly the morning you went to the bookstore. A friend of mine at the cafe saw us together at the Metropole. There, satisfied?"
She didn't bother to mention how she found me this time.
"That's all nice to know," I said, "but you still didn't answer my question."
"There is no such app, moron."
And that's how we said our goodbyes. Gosh, I'll miss her...almost as much as she already misses me.
Jean-Michel Basquiat - She Installs Confidence and Picks His Brain Like a Salad
The Dust Never Settles
Friday, 4 July
Thousand Foot Krutch - Light Up the Sky
Dinner didn't go exactly as planned...leave it to me, Quinn, to set off a whole warehouse of fireworks before I leave here.
I thought it would be a nice and uncomfortably quiet dinner with just me and my stepfather, but there were already two guests at our table when I arrived: a living replica of Lenin who simply introduced himself as "Coso" and a woman about half his age who was either his wife, girlfriend, or otherwise.
Indyuk sat to my left with empty chairs on either side of him and continued chit-chatting with Lenin about the low crime rate in Qaos. I figured Coso was a police captain or perhaps Indyuk's deputy.
I enjoyed being ignored and hoped it would continue for the remainder of the meal, but after appetizers and drinks were served Indyuk switched his attention to me.
"How's your Aunt Katherine doing, Mikhail?"
"She's doing great. Prays for you every day."
"I bet she does," he said in a low voice. "And your uncle?"
"Good, I suppose."
"Does he ever talk about me?" Indyuk asked.
"Not really. Should he?"
"Just curious. And what exactly does he do for a living these days?"
I could feel my cheeks start to burn from the light, mocking tone in my stepfather's voice. I wanted to blurt out "Uncle Z has a more important job than you'll ever have, you cubicle rat!" but I heeded Sophi's advice and held my tongue. Besides, being chief of police probably comes with a decent size office.
"He's a lobbyist in Washington D.C. -- that's the capital," I added.
"Yes, I'm aware of that, thank you. You've been here, what, three weeks now?" he asked.
"Yep," I said with a mouthful of dandelion salad sprinkled with goat cheese (the shoots are hand-picked every morning by the great-grandson of the region's most renowned dandelion grower, the waiter related with great pride as I read through the menu for the upteenth time).
"Learn anything interesting during your visit?" Indyuk asked.
"Yeah, I really hate caviar," I said.
"It's not for everyone, I suppose. How is your English, Mikhail?" he continued.
"Wait, is this a job interview? Because I'm flying home tomorrow and I already made plans for this weekend. In fact, I..." Indyuk stopped listening to me, but instead glared over my right shoulder. Coso and Company were looking behind me as well.
A young man about my age scurried around the table to the seat across from me and quietly said "Sorry" as my stepfather stared him down for a few more seconds before turning his attention back to me.
"I presumed that your aunt or uncle would have told you about my recent appointment to Minister of the Interior, but apparently that isn't the case."
"Sooo, you're Chief Park Ranger now?" I asked. The woman giggled. Indyuk did not.
"I rescheduled your flight to Tuesday," he said. "There's an exhibition in Paris this weekend which ---"
"Yeah, I don't think so," I said. "Thanks, but --"
"Your flight to Paris leaves at noon on Friday," Indyuk continued with a respectable sense of control. "You'll be meeting with --"
"No. Nyet. Hors de question!" I said. The lively restaurant went oddly quiet for a few moments. Indyuk's face was turning crimson while that of the newcomer across from me was an unhealthy shade of gray.
Indyuk looked across the room and the mâitre d' came over and whispered a few words to him. He nodded his head once and carefully folded his table napkin. Indyuk stood up and motioned for me to follow without saying a word...that is, until we stepped outside.
Like many of the older buildings in the embassy district, the Rotunda has a walled-in garden behind it with landscaped paths and fountains. And as soon as the area was cleared of other patrons, my stepfather proceeded to destroy the serene setting by verbally tearing me to shreds.
It ended beautifully:
"I will not tolerate being disrespected like that. If you leave tomorrow, I will no longer consider you my son."
"You never have," I shot back as I stormed in one restaurant door and out the other. I think I may be joining my uncle on the persona non grata list in the very near future.
If that wasn't bad enough, I nearly plowed into Alyss and her parents about a block away. They saw I was upset, so I joked that it was because I was leaving Qaos so soon. I don't think they believed me. Alyss graciously tried to change the subject by telling her parents how she met me at the bookstore, but her dad was no longer listening.
He was watching something down the street and a few moments later I realized what -- or who -- it was when a black Mercedes slowly drove by with Indyuk in the back seat. My stepfather was glaring once again. Not at me, but at Alyss's dad.
"Who was that, Papa?"
"No one of consequence," he said.
If only.
I thought it would be a nice and uncomfortably quiet dinner with just me and my stepfather, but there were already two guests at our table when I arrived: a living replica of Lenin who simply introduced himself as "Coso" and a woman about half his age who was either his wife, girlfriend, or otherwise.
Indyuk sat to my left with empty chairs on either side of him and continued chit-chatting with Lenin about the low crime rate in Qaos. I figured Coso was a police captain or perhaps Indyuk's deputy.
I enjoyed being ignored and hoped it would continue for the remainder of the meal, but after appetizers and drinks were served Indyuk switched his attention to me.
"How's your Aunt Katherine doing, Mikhail?"
"She's doing great. Prays for you every day."
"I bet she does," he said in a low voice. "And your uncle?"
"Good, I suppose."
"Does he ever talk about me?" Indyuk asked.
"Not really. Should he?"
"Just curious. And what exactly does he do for a living these days?"
I could feel my cheeks start to burn from the light, mocking tone in my stepfather's voice. I wanted to blurt out "Uncle Z has a more important job than you'll ever have, you cubicle rat!" but I heeded Sophi's advice and held my tongue. Besides, being chief of police probably comes with a decent size office.
"He's a lobbyist in Washington D.C. -- that's the capital," I added.
"Yes, I'm aware of that, thank you. You've been here, what, three weeks now?" he asked.
"Yep," I said with a mouthful of dandelion salad sprinkled with goat cheese (the shoots are hand-picked every morning by the great-grandson of the region's most renowned dandelion grower, the waiter related with great pride as I read through the menu for the upteenth time).
"Learn anything interesting during your visit?" Indyuk asked.
"Yeah, I really hate caviar," I said.
"It's not for everyone, I suppose. How is your English, Mikhail?" he continued.
"Wait, is this a job interview? Because I'm flying home tomorrow and I already made plans for this weekend. In fact, I..." Indyuk stopped listening to me, but instead glared over my right shoulder. Coso and Company were looking behind me as well.
A young man about my age scurried around the table to the seat across from me and quietly said "Sorry" as my stepfather stared him down for a few more seconds before turning his attention back to me.
"I presumed that your aunt or uncle would have told you about my recent appointment to Minister of the Interior, but apparently that isn't the case."
"Sooo, you're Chief Park Ranger now?" I asked. The woman giggled. Indyuk did not.
"I rescheduled your flight to Tuesday," he said. "There's an exhibition in Paris this weekend which ---"
"Yeah, I don't think so," I said. "Thanks, but --"
"Your flight to Paris leaves at noon on Friday," Indyuk continued with a respectable sense of control. "You'll be meeting with --"
"No. Nyet. Hors de question!" I said. The lively restaurant went oddly quiet for a few moments. Indyuk's face was turning crimson while that of the newcomer across from me was an unhealthy shade of gray.
Indyuk looked across the room and the mâitre d' came over and whispered a few words to him. He nodded his head once and carefully folded his table napkin. Indyuk stood up and motioned for me to follow without saying a word...that is, until we stepped outside.
Like many of the older buildings in the embassy district, the Rotunda has a walled-in garden behind it with landscaped paths and fountains. And as soon as the area was cleared of other patrons, my stepfather proceeded to destroy the serene setting by verbally tearing me to shreds.
It ended beautifully:
"I will not tolerate being disrespected like that. If you leave tomorrow, I will no longer consider you my son."
"You never have," I shot back as I stormed in one restaurant door and out the other. I think I may be joining my uncle on the persona non grata list in the very near future.
If that wasn't bad enough, I nearly plowed into Alyss and her parents about a block away. They saw I was upset, so I joked that it was because I was leaving Qaos so soon. I don't think they believed me. Alyss graciously tried to change the subject by telling her parents how she met me at the bookstore, but her dad was no longer listening.
He was watching something down the street and a few moments later I realized what -- or who -- it was when a black Mercedes slowly drove by with Indyuk in the back seat. My stepfather was glaring once again. Not at me, but at Alyss's dad.
"Who was that, Papa?"
"No one of consequence," he said.
If only.
Thomas Birch - Engagement Between the "United States" and the "Macedonian"
Ch 6
Vertical Inversions
Sunday, 7 July
The Myriad - Nothing is Safe
When I went down for breakfast this morning, a concierge came to my table and gave me a small envelope with a note inside: Driver will pick you up at 9:00 sharp in the hotel lobby. Flight at 10.
Wait, what? I had less than an hour before I was shoved out of Qaos.
Breakfast spoiled and not wanting to make a scene in the hotel (I had a great urge to yell or punch something), I went out for a walk and found my way to the cemetery cursing along the way.
Saying goodbye to mom & dad didn't make me hate Indyuk any less. Did I ever tell you why mom & dad are on opposite sides of the cemetery? My stepfather, of course.
Before mom passed, she made him promise to bury her in All Souls' Cemetery across the street from her church. Indyuk fulfilled that wish, all right, but he made sure that she was buried as far away from dad as possible. :-(
After I said my farewells, I went up to the cemetery gate and waited.
At precisely 9:09, a black car pulled up and an exasperated driver lowered the window and ordered me in. I wondered how long it'd take for them to find me. 😏
Forty minutes later I'm sitting in a twin-engine private jet heading to Munich...just me and my escort (said exasperated driver) on a plane that could easily fit a dozen passengers comfortably, couch included.
If it wasn't for Aunt K, I'd never visit this damn place again.
Death Cab for Cutie - Soul Meets Body
Wait, what? I had less than an hour before I was shoved out of Qaos.
Breakfast spoiled and not wanting to make a scene in the hotel (I had a great urge to yell or punch something), I went out for a walk and found my way to the cemetery cursing along the way.
Saying goodbye to mom & dad didn't make me hate Indyuk any less. Did I ever tell you why mom & dad are on opposite sides of the cemetery? My stepfather, of course.
Before mom passed, she made him promise to bury her in All Souls' Cemetery across the street from her church. Indyuk fulfilled that wish, all right, but he made sure that she was buried as far away from dad as possible. :-(
After I said my farewells, I went up to the cemetery gate and waited.
At precisely 9:09, a black car pulled up and an exasperated driver lowered the window and ordered me in. I wondered how long it'd take for them to find me. 😏
Forty minutes later I'm sitting in a twin-engine private jet heading to Munich...just me and my escort (said exasperated driver) on a plane that could easily fit a dozen passengers comfortably, couch included.
If it wasn't for Aunt K, I'd never visit this damn place again.
Piet Mondrian - The Gray Tree
Makes Me Wonder
Monday, 8 July
The Mighty Mighty Bosstones - The Impression That I Get
Got to Munich about 5 hours before my next flight. Curse that step-demon of mine!
Oh well, being Christmas in July and all, I whiled away the extra time at an atrociously expensive airport bar watching It's a Wonderful Life (twice).
Funny, how George Bailey couldn't leave his hometown...and I may never return to mine.
Oh well, being Christmas in July and all, I whiled away the extra time at an atrociously expensive airport bar watching It's a Wonderful Life (twice).
Funny, how George Bailey couldn't leave his hometown...and I may never return to mine.
Frederic Edwin Church - The Icebergs
The Noise in Your Mind
Wednesday, 10 July
Andy Hunter w/ Beth Bullock - Harmony
Before I even unpacked my suitcase, Sophi texted me:
"Natasha broke up with her boyfriend. You could've danced with her tonight."
"I don't care," I replied.
But I do.
"Natasha broke up with her boyfriend. You could've danced with her tonight."
"I don't care," I replied.
But I do.
Robert Motherwell - Untitled
Far Off Destinations
Friday, 12 July
Good morning Quinn,
I've been thinking things over this weekend. Perhaps I acted a little too rashly over dinner last week? Even if I have issues with my step-father, it was kinda rude to make a scene in front of his co-workers. Soooo, I hope to make amends after things cool off and even offer an olive branch -- interning for him next summer.
"What?!!" you say. My reasons are two-fold:
First, Aunt K won't leave Nordonia, not even for a short visit to the States. She has dual citizenship (Nordonia, Italy) and she's afraid that once she leaves The-Powers-That-Be won't let her back in. Yeah, she can get a little paranoid about things sometimes.
Second, I promised Aunt K that I'd bring you with me next summer. Technically, you can go without me, but then who would be your interpreter and tour guide? Plus, I was hoping we'd hit a concert while you're there; surely I can find a band or two you'd like.
And, I suppose, that would give me nearly 3 months to chat with Natasha...Sophi can't waste her whole summer messing with my plans, right? 😉
Anyways, I fulfilled Uncle Z's wish to come back safe & sound, so I will now hit the snooze button on this journal.
Until next summer then. Toodles!!
U2 - MLK
Glasslands - Back and Forth
Switchfoot - The Sound [John M. Perkins' Blues]
Children 18:3 - All My Balloons
I've been thinking things over this weekend. Perhaps I acted a little too rashly over dinner last week? Even if I have issues with my step-father, it was kinda rude to make a scene in front of his co-workers. Soooo, I hope to make amends after things cool off and even offer an olive branch -- interning for him next summer.
"What?!!" you say. My reasons are two-fold:
First, Aunt K won't leave Nordonia, not even for a short visit to the States. She has dual citizenship (Nordonia, Italy) and she's afraid that once she leaves The-Powers-That-Be won't let her back in. Yeah, she can get a little paranoid about things sometimes.
Second, I promised Aunt K that I'd bring you with me next summer. Technically, you can go without me, but then who would be your interpreter and tour guide? Plus, I was hoping we'd hit a concert while you're there; surely I can find a band or two you'd like.
And, I suppose, that would give me nearly 3 months to chat with Natasha...Sophi can't waste her whole summer messing with my plans, right? 😉
Anyways, I fulfilled Uncle Z's wish to come back safe & sound, so I will now hit the snooze button on this journal.
Until next summer then. Toodles!!
Edgar Degas - The False Start
Ch 7
Thunder Cloud
Sunday, 14 July
U2 - MLK
Aunt K had a stroke. I'm going back to Qaos.
Makoto Fujimura - Walking on Water - Azurite
(www.makotofujimura.com)
????
Monday, 15 July
Monday, 15 July
Jack White - High Ball Stepper
Where I'll Be Someone Else
Tuesday, 16 July
Glasslands - Back and Forth
Misha sat in the oversized armchair in the corner of his bedroom and stared out the backyard window. He watched the red-faced goldfinches scatter seeds from one of the bird feeders that Uncle Z made and put around the garden. Misha could also hear him and Uncle Henri having a disagreement of sorts across the house. They weren't shouting, but their voices sounded tense and restrained.
"Do you need help packing, Misha?" Aunt Peg asked as she walked into the room.
"I hardly even unpacked."
She looked at the backpack on the floor and sat on the bed across from him.
"Misha — ," she said and he looked up. "You may need more than a backpack this time. Quinnie and I will join you as soon as we can, but who knows —"
She raised her head and listened to her husband and brother talking in the kitchen. Their voices were getting louder as their conversation went on.
"Matthias, I'll fly to Trieste in the morning and talk with the consulate —"
"No one's flying to Trieste, Henri!"
Aunt Peg got up and partially closed the door to block out the noise.
"Quinn will be home shortly to take you to the airport," she said. "Is there anything I can get you?"
"No thank you."
Aunt Peg gave Misha a quick hug, kissed his head and left the room.
Misha continued watching the finches peck away at their food and flutter between the ground and the feeder without a care in the world. What a peaceful life, he thought.
Then a gang of starlings landed, scattering the finches and their imagined peacefulness.
"Do you need help packing, Misha?" Aunt Peg asked as she walked into the room.
"I hardly even unpacked."
She looked at the backpack on the floor and sat on the bed across from him.
"Misha — ," she said and he looked up. "You may need more than a backpack this time. Quinnie and I will join you as soon as we can, but who knows —"
She raised her head and listened to her husband and brother talking in the kitchen. Their voices were getting louder as their conversation went on.
"Matthias, I'll fly to Trieste in the morning and talk with the consulate —"
"No one's flying to Trieste, Henri!"
Aunt Peg got up and partially closed the door to block out the noise.
"Quinn will be home shortly to take you to the airport," she said. "Is there anything I can get you?"
"No thank you."
Aunt Peg gave Misha a quick hug, kissed his head and left the room.
Misha continued watching the finches peck away at their food and flutter between the ground and the feeder without a care in the world. What a peaceful life, he thought.
Then a gang of starlings landed, scattering the finches and their imagined peacefulness.
??? - ??? [pending]
Beneath the Broken Sky
Thursday, 18 July
Switchfoot - The Sound [John M. Perkins' Blues]
Blah blah black sheep.....
El Greco - View of Toledo
We've Been Waiting
Friday, 19 July
Children 18:3 - All My Balloons
Blah blah blah'ish...
Twenty One Pilots - Mad World
Radiohead - In Limbo
Grant Wood - American Gothic
Ch 8
Mad World
Sunday, 21 July
Blah blah blah blah...
Tears for Fears - Mad World
Trapdoors
Monday, 22 July
Radiohead - In Limbo
Blah blah blah....
Twenty One Pilots - Stressed Out
John Singleton Copley - Watson and the Shark (1778)
Turn Back Time
Wednesday, 24 July
Blah blah blah...
Blur - Song 2
Love and Rockets - No New Tale to Tell
Aquarium - If The Trees Had Eyes They'd Be Glaring At You
The Primitives - All the Way Down
Twenty One Pilots - Jumpsuit
Edvard Munch - The Scream (1893)
Pleased to Meet You
Thursday, 25 July
Blur - Song 2
Blah blah blah...
Anberlin - Stranger Ways
Vincent van Gogh - Portrait of Dr. Gatchet (1890)
A Little Bit Closer
Friday, 26 July
Anberlin - Stranger Ways
Blah blah blah...
Sergio Gomez - Declaration 1
Simple as a Flower
Saturday, 27 July
Love and Rockets - No New Tale to Tell
Blah blah blah...
Erin Bartels - A Dewy Morning on Thumb Lake, Michigan (2009)
Ch 9
If the Trees Had Eyes
Sunday, 28 July
Aquarium - If The Trees Had Eyes They'd Be Glaring At You
Blah blah blah...
Howard Hodgkin - Listening Ear (1986)
Eight Miles Low
Monday, 29 July
Blah blah blah...
Brenna Mahn - Glass Bridge at Zhangjiajie (2018)
Crumble
Wednesday, 31 July
Twenty One Pilots - Jumpsuit
Blah blah blah...
Supermarket - Original
Masky - Title Unknown
From Here We Go
Friday, 2 August
Blah blah blah...
Sponge - Plowed
Kye Kye - Reach
Dave Mitchell - Title Unknown
Ch 10
Buried by the Sound
Monday, 5 August 2024
Blah blah blah...
Alex Sabolta - Howl (2017)
Home
Thursday, 8 August
Kye Kye - Reach
Blah blah blah...
Family Force 5 - Radiator
Joy Hilley - Sevenfold Amen (2018)
Feel the Levitation
Friday, 9 August
Family Force 5 - Radiator
Blah blah blah...
Glasslands - Go For Broke
REM - Pop Song 89
Tomas Fernandez - Love's Heat
Shadow Soul
Friday, 9 August
Blah blah blah...
Brenna Mahn - Dark Matter [pending]
(www.brennamahn.com)
I Think I Can Remember Your Name
Saturday, 10 August
Blah blah blah...
Louis Anet Sabatier - Café Scene in Paris (1884)
Ch ?
Blah Blah Blah
Sunday, Someday
The Sign of Human (feat. Wang Yujun) - Light Off (關上所有的燈)
No comments:
Post a Comment