November 8, 2009
'Khattam-Shut' he said slowly, 'is the Arch-Enemy of all Stories, even language itself. He is the Prince of Silence and the Foe of Speech. And becouse everything ends, becouse dreams end, stories end, life ends and at the finish of everything we use his name. 'It's finished' we tell each other 'it's over. Khattam-Sud: The End.'
-Salman Rushdie: Harou and the sea of stories-
September 26, 2009
September 10, 2009
How to get used to all these farewells.
New friends, shared moments, joys and sorrows... brotherhood.
Sometimes I would like to be the one who stays.
But once again I pack my bag, say quickly Hi. And whenever I jump on a new ferry, I'm between past and future and I know that my mind will wonder to the dreams of tomorrow. But same time I will look backwards hoping that we'll meet again, when the time is right, when the time is ready..
And a tear on my eye I'll whisper a message to the winds:
My friend, my dear brother and my beautiful sister!
Sampai jumpa lagi - Untill we meet again!
August 29, 2009
But I guess I'm ready.
It's time to go home.
Hki-Uluru chapter X finally on the paper. From the letter you can read about my journey from Kupang to Dampier and a fictitious tale called "Old man and a bench". And the next chapters are ready soon!
-Please order a letter, read more and help me to home -
August 22, 2009
But beside all the hassle, dificulties and grazynes I just love this country! My heart is beating to this soil, these islands, moments, brothers and sisters and I would like to understand. I would like to hear one more tale, learn one more word of bahasa indonesia, share one more dinner, share one more Sopi, share one more smile..
But sometimes while I'm walking on the streets my mind is yelling:
"Please girls, stop smiling to me... you are too beautiful!"
July 29, 2009
It's harder than my fist.
So, even how tired, frustrated, pissed off you are, still DON'T punch your fist to wall of concrete boat! Or if you really have to do it, then use your left hand. (Or vice versa if you are left handed)
July 28, 2009
July 17, 2009
I don't know.
But anyway it feels good: Journey to home.
How long it will take? I don't know.
Some route to Helsinki.
I have some plans, I have many dreams, but I don,t know.
What do I know!?
I'm at Darwin now.
I have a home, a tent on my friends garden.
Wheather is warm.. it's a tropical dry season, you know.
There is music on the streets..storytelling on the teather.
Friends here and there from here and there.
I like this place.
I'm happy today.
And there is a boat in marina.
Captain John and big boss Jenny.
Tomorrow we'll lift sails, sail towarards Indonesia,
And I'm on my way to home,
June 29, 2009
June 24, 2009
A hired car.
This moment, this day.
And I'm there. Somewhere.
About 16 months I have been wondering towards Uluru. But time and distances get mixed up in my mind: Kilometers, mails, hours, days and months. Was it yesterday when I started this journey,
or was it ten years ago?
And from where? Towards what?
And who it was who left?
Was it me?
June 21, 2009
June 3, 2009
May 24, 2009
Just yesterday, after six months in OZ, I realized that Sydney isn't the capital, it's Canberra. (Canberra what!?)
How are you? How's going mate?
Slowly I learn, and slowly I pick up this Australian accent. And finally I start to be able to answer to people, (not just murmur something to my beard) and somehow I even start to enjoy those little conversations: Early in the morning a smile and few words in a clothing store, or a girl on a shop's desk, her beautiful eyes and some small talk.
But quite often, and more often in a work under a constant noise on a background I just stare with big eyes: "What, What??" and answer: "Goog, good" Or without understanding what the other person is asking I just raise my shoulders and say: "I don't know.."
May 5, 2009
Sometimes I just be.
And if I see a shooting star I ask:
Who am I?
April 18, 2009
I have a peacock's quill and a fragrance of incense.
I have a job; blood, carcasses and a pain in my muscles.
I have a day off; comic books, juggling balls and a devil's stick.
And for a moment I have a home, on a shed of my friends.
April 4, 2009
So now I'll stay in Woodford for a while and Uluru must wait.
Now I try to be brave and work for two months.
Tomorrow I'll open a door to my new job. A door witch I thought I'll never walk through. But tomorrow I will.
There is sign on the door.
And on the sign there is written:
MEAT FACTORY - KILL FLOOR
April 1, 2009
Half asleep, half awake I sat on a kitchen table of Layne's family, and happily I took a sip of Finnish coffee.
March 27, 2009
March 19, 2009
February 28, 2009
Sails and lines are ready to go.
Fresh water tanks are full.
Food and some wine in a hatch.
And off we go.
The journey towards the south continues.
A week or a month?
Who knows? Who cares!?
February 23, 2009
In the 8. letter there is two photos, my journal from Meleka to Kupang, (how I ran through the beautiful Indonesia). And a fictitious story called "Samudera Labalaba"
-Please order a letter and read more
and at the same time help me to travel some miles futher south-
February 20, 2009
January 31, 2009
"Wish I was a bird,
Ropes, chains and anchors.
Wet and salty water, sweat and swear words.
I fought with ropes and practised new knots; Bowline, Lazy Jack, The eight and a lock, Ordinary hitch and a lock, Italian hitch.. Slowly, slowly I learn, but often on front of me, I see again and again a knot called a Finnish hitch (or Markus hitch). The knot is some weird squiggles, frills and bends. It's slides here and there and doesn't lock anything at all.
But to undo it? It's almost impossible..
January 22, 2009
January 12, 2009
It's only 4552km to Uluru.
But the road between two points isn't always straight.
I go around and around and someway I feel that I try to avoid it.
A: There is no straight roads
B: My bag of golden coins isn't heavy enough
C: I don't know what does Uluru means
D: Or maybe I'm just afraid to reach my destination and to say: Here I am.
Anyway now I hear the call of the ocean and with BoniBoni I climbe on a deck of Oelin. Here on Coral Bay we wait for the south winds to calm down, then we'll sail towards south to Fremantle.
And I hope to find some storytellers, some storytelling events and hear again and maybe speak also myself those magical words: Once upon a time..
January 6, 2009
We made a shade and a matres from old sail. We packed some water, fuel and food with us and on the road we were;
the white beauty and two travellers.
(The Ute made in -76, Jonas made in -86 and me made in -77)
We drove pass the bush fires and headed to inland to avoid Cyklone Billy who hang around on coastline. Thousands of kilometers empty road, some weird birds and insects, a lot of red dust under the hot hot sun and of course we saw some cows and kangaroos(some even alive).
Beautiful is this empty land.
Why nobody told me that the bush is full of flies!?