Reportage: I Survived the SFF!

At the football cage

Dreamtime painting by Frog

Irvin aka "Frog"

The Red Carpet

My Refuge

Almir, Friend and Underground Man

Walking to City Centar

I am safely returned from a week in Sarajevo, my senses of time, distance, and causal relationships all subtly warped.

I survived the Sarajevo Film festival with the help of my friend Almir,
a true underground man who was my guide introducing me to food, music,
personalities, many a .3 L beer, and the best local watering holes which
helped serve as retreats from the crowd and noise of the festival days
and nights, and with the true refuge provided by Irvin and Draza, - who
evicted their 6-year old daughter so I could stay in her room - educated
Bosnians who had returned 4 years ago from 8 years in Australia where,
needing work, they were recruited by a Russian to work for an Iranian,
painting, as "Frog" and "Sara," authentic aboriginal Dreamtime paintings
for sale to tourists and which I had admired on their apartment walls.

I saw 9 or 10 films – Serbia, Croatian/Bosnian, Spanish, Chinese, Greek;
attended 3 or 4 music concerts – Cuban, Serbian gypsy, Croatian rock and
roll; participated on harmonica in 2 all-nighters at the Marquee Rock
Club, where under a huge portrait of Elvis Presley the owner would
ensnare unsuspecting patrons in a web of his virtuoso rock and roll
guitar playing until many drinks later they might notice that the dawn
had long since come and gone. ("John! John!," he would cry, "You must
hear this!!!")

I drank coffee at the Holiday Inn while a sudden storm blew the
courtyards fountains water horizontal; I saw Gillian Anderson's rear end
moving away from me in a golden sheath on the red carpet; spoke with the
director of the festival who had started it 15 years before as a
gracefully defiant gesture during the war; drank vodka with the aging
vice-mayor of Sarajevo who probably held the proper position judging
from his attention to the micro-skirted young woman sitting at my right;
drank beer with a man famous long ago as the best and fastest food
waiter during the Sarajevo Winter Olympics of 1984. I tucked in my
sweaty tee-shirt before I walked the same red carpet under the TV lights
and camera into the National Theater and its uncomfortable seats for the
first regional screening of a Greek film which was so creepy and
unhealthy that I left part-way through. At 3 a.m. on a Sarajevo
backstreet, I par-TAYED with "Bimbo,"a gaunt and spectral, tuba-playing
Professor of Comparative Literature from Sarajevo University who would
only grunt each time I tried out lines from English, French or German
poetry.

I missed a friendly soccer game with Iran – the stadium was half-empty
but they had not printed enough tickets and so could not let us in and
our harrowing taxi ride and exposure to the angry mob of unhappy fans
was for nothing, but then watched the same game from the Manhattan Club,
feeling much safer and happier.

Like a scene from a Fellini movie, I saw a wedding procession of maybe
50 cars stretching over several blocks winding their way slowly through
the rush hour traffic, each car decorated with flowers and driven by
serious men in white shirts and black ties, all pounding on their car
horns as they circled the city again and again.

I saw thousands of the most long-legged, gorgeous women on the planet
(after our own, of course, guys); drank vino with another "Fellini," a
big man who had suffered a black out, fall, and hospital stay from two
ulcers at almost the same time I had and was equally prohibited from
drinking alcohol; learned to upgrade my usual response "dobro" (good) to
"odlicno," (excellent).

Now I am safely back and decompressing, the all-night bus ride being
fine except for the big Turkish young man in the next seat fresh from a
24-hour holiday in Sarajevo who kept dozing off and falling on my
shoulder. The peaches are all gone from the tree (thankfully harvested
by friends), my neighbors are off for a few days to their small house on
the other side of the island, my own house is empty and quiet.

I put on some old gypsy music on a CD that I bought for $4. in Sarajevo,
make some watered down coffee, and watch the temperature rise, thinking
of family and friends back home.

Dateline Milna, Aug 09

Today is my last full day in Milna for awhile. Tomorrow, we catch the
morning catamaran to Split, then bus to Ploce and train to Sarajevo, for
its annual film festival. Really outstanding films. I have been
selecting the films I'd like to see, most tickets are only a couple of
bucks . . . oh yes, Gillian Anderson is the special guest this year.
I'll check her out on the red carpet on Wednesday night (last year, it
was Kevin Spacey)

Since Julia left, Almir and I have been swimming, grilling, and meeting
colorful local characters. Sarajevo will be nice, but I look forward to
quiet time alone back in Milna in a week or so . . .

Update 8/05

So, Julia is sitting in New Jersey waiting for her final flight to
Seattle. I am drinking pivo and grilling cevapi and veggies (and
drinking pivo) with Almir.

Big party at Djani's last Sunday night - lot of roasted lamb, veggies,
pivo and homemade music. Then Zana left Monday for Sarajevo.

We rented a convertible for a brief jaunt to the old church of St.
George on Tuesday, then Julia left last night. I was
hyper-ventilating. Now Almir and I are alone, planning on going to
Sarajevo next Monday for its annual film festival.

And I sold my car, Bella Biejela, (White Beauty), today and it broke my
heart. But at least she will be running around Milna again soon.

Our Man at the Edison Eye Invitational (3)

CHAPTER THREE


It was a quieter night in edison. After I parked my car and walked to
the front steps of the gallery there were many people sitting outside
and milling about the front door. They were all chatting about the
wonderful trips they had taken to central america or about the good they
were doing serving on Arts committees but not too many of them were
focused on the Art hanging in the gallery. I kept looking for the aging
divas with the long scarfs around their necks waving to their drivers to
find a better parking spot but I think the divas always arrive later in
the evening.

I went inside and instinctively searched out the position the Baron had
given me in the art gallery's real estate. I was again placed off to
the side of the show but at least this time I was placed near the entry
to the cafe where the wine was instead of on the way to the bathroom. I
guess I'm moving up.

Feeling somewhat upbeat I walked into the cafe to investigate the crowd
further and I was impressed that so many people had showed up for the
show but I think they were in a more social mood than an art buying
mood. I had some salad with a bit of salmon and then had a perfunctury
glass of wine. It was red and it was good. I put some more money in
the donation basket and helped myself again. I met an old friend there
and we talked about real estate and politics for a while and then I
realized I had to get popping on my report about the Art show.

I started walking up to people and began to start conversations about
what they thought about the show. The first couple were from LaConner
and Bellevue and they were long time patrons of the Edison Eye. They
had bought something just recently from Dana and were not buyers
tonight. I showed them my painting and the woman's eyes lit up and she
told me she had an orange dining room and she might like my painting.
She asked me if it was a Mayan motif and I told her no it was Minoan.
She started to querie me about what books I had read about Greek history
and then we talked about Scheilmann in Mycanea and Evan's work at
Knossos. I told her I had been reading Thucydides this summer and she
told me I was amazing for reading such works. She still didn't buy my
painting. By the way this couple just came back from a trip to Split
and the southern croatian coast. They had even visited Brac in the past
but when I asked if they had been to Milna the wife said I was pushing
her too far.

Just then Dana came along with an eye patch on and he was looking very
frustrated. I asked how the show was going and he said it was
terrible. He couldn't sell anything other than a small piece by Barry
Christenson. "This show is too big... customers can't focus on
anything. Next year I am going to do this Invitational in two parts." I
wanted to say to Dana that the subject of the show was too mundane and
who wanted a painting of buttons. But I didn't. I motioned to Dana
that the couple I had been talking to were about to leave so Dana went
to work on them to go look at some pieces with him. I encouraged the
woman to go take a look and she and here husband followed off with Dana.

What pot to stir next. I found a couple sitting on the bench in the
smaller gallery space. I had noticed earlier that they had been
sitting there and I decided to ask them a few questions about the show.
The woman asked if I wanted to know about the Art show or the "show." I
said tell me about the "show" and she told me there were far to many
ladies in High Heels and Birkenstocks and they were not interested in
the art work but rather they were only interested in making the scene.
I asked her what was wrong with that and she just looked at me as if I
was crazy. The guy with her said the subjects in the show didn't appeal
to him becasue they were so ordinary. "Maybe people feel good looking
at spoons but it doesn't do anything for me." He had a baseball with
him that he asked me to sign and I noticed it had Babe Ruth's signature
on it and when I asked him about that he told me he was lucky to get
that signature the other day. He also asked me to sign for John as well
because John was in Dalmatia and couldn't sign for himself. "Dalmatia,
you gotta be making that up."

I next saw Toni and she was in a summer dress with a lai around her
neck. She was in a good mood even though Dana was bleeding out his ears
because no one was buying any paintings. She was laughing and asking me
privately if I was sure she could rent John & Julia's home in Milna some
day. I assured her I would negotiate that for her and I even told her
that John could see her island from his bedroom window. She was aglow
and offered me another glass of wine. Of course I accepted and we
cheered the good weather and then we talked about her sailboat. The
wind had been minimal this past week because of the heat but she said
she was going out Sunday afternoon no matter what.

I followed a few other artist's around and introduced myself and had
these artist's show me their work. One had painted a Hydranga bush and
another had painted an apple tree spirit. These two artists discussed
how Dana would come up with a theme for the Invitational and then the
artist's would do whatever they wished. Hmmmm.

I saw Christine Wartenburg and she had submitted a painting of carrots
and I took her picture in front of it. A friend of her's came by and
insisted I take another picture of Christine and the painting from a
better angle. Of course I did. Christine's painting was near mine and
I walked away feeling better about my placement in the show.

I then bumped into my friend again and he was dismayed that he couldn't
get anywhere in the ice cream line. Too many divas in front of him. We
walked down the street to another gallery on the corner and there was
some great bowls in there with beautiful fish motifs that were $600. As
I was looking at them the owner of the gallery came by
and said that these bowls would sell for $2000 in Seattle because people
in the city have money. I wanted to tell him that people in the city
had bigger money problems right now than he could imagine but I just let
it go because it was playfull to my ears to hear that urban myth again

My friend and I walked back to the edison eye determined to get him some
ice cream. I walked up to the counter and asked the lady there if we
could get some ice cream and she announced I am only the "f...ing wine
lady but I'll call out my superior to scoop some f...ing ice cream." I
thought to myself I have finally found someone with some color to write
about. She yelled out a name and from behind a door came the ice cream
guy with a tub of ice cream in his arms. My friend started to order a
double scoop and I started talking to the wine lady.

It turns out the Edison Eye went through 29 bottles of wine 15 salmon
fillets and loads of salad mix tonight. The wine lady went on to tell
me that she was also an artist and she had a few pieces in the show.
She was a bit upset that she had priced her pieces too high and was
troubled no one had bought one of them. "This is how I make my living
and if no one buys I don't eat." I asked her to tell me where her Art
was and she waved her hand around and said in the larger room near the
door. I searched the larger room for her work and came back to her and
said I am getting a head ache trying to find your stuff. She was busy
with a deep conversation with some young man but I think she thought I
was a reporter so she reluctantly walked my friend and I over to her
pieces. They were "Salish" type baskets made out of old maps of
Alaska. She works out of the old Hardware store and found these maps in
the closet there. They were old maps that some prospector had drawn
spots where he suspected gold would be found. The wine lady/artist
thought this was an afront to the beauty of Alaska and wanted to do
something positive with the maps. I on the other hand wanted to know
where the gold was.

The wine lady had a name and it was Jessica. She went on about how she
dropped out of the Western Art program while giving her presentation for
her degree in 1998. "I just got so mad about how these broken down
artist's can tell me about how to make Art when all they are doing is
trying to get some health coverage by working at the School." She
stormed out of the school and moved to Portland she said to make Art.
She moved to Edison a few years ago because the overhead was cheap. She
is going to have a one-person show in a few months at the Smith gallery
(the one owned by the furniture maker's that John and I went through in
June). She then ran off with her friends and I started to search once
again for a story. I think we should introduce Spencer to her.

I walked outside and I saw Joel Brock and we talked a bit. He stated
that this was a classic "Edison Eye Invitational"
and that Dana was fabulous for allowing so many artists a chance to be
shown. He also said his basketball hoop was lying in neglect in his
yard and that he was mostly pre-occupied these days keeping teen-age
boys away from his teen age daughter. "I was hoping other parents would
raise good boys but I have a BB gun just in case."

As I walked through the main street of Edison the sun was setting like a
red hot marble in the west and the moon was rising in the East. I stood
in the street and had one arm pointed at the sun and one at the moon and
felt a surge of energy run through me like some mayan astronermer.

I began to search for the aging divas and their drivers waiting to whisk
the divas off to their summer homes but I didn't see any. I might have
missed them while I was searching for my story.

I took some photos with my phone and I will send them off as well.

Chaz
Dateline Edison 8/01/09

Jews in dalmatia

So I am sitting at a cafe at about midnight listening to a local guy
called "Diego" perform "African music," by which my Bosnian friend means
"reggae." I am enjoying one song in particular when I become suddenly
confused. I listen harder. The refrain, sung over and over and over,
is 'Ya-mul-ke, Ya-mul-ke, Ya-mul-ke . . ." The dancing crowd is wildly
enthusiastic.

Wait a minute? What gives? why are Croatians singing reggae about
being Jewish?

Julia later informs me they were really singing, as you probably
guessed, "Ja-mai-ca."

Somehow, even after learning that - which makes some sort of warped
sense, I guess - since I am sitting in Croatia under a grass thatch
umbrella drinking German beer - I retain a sense of being fundamentally
perplexed.

edison eye, chapter two

Chapter 2

tonight is the show
a show of common things
dana was right
a minoan vase
a common thing?

but then neruda's poem
does elude to a flower vase
and from there to a minoan vase
is not that far a stretch

i am tired today
it was nearly 105 this week
and the heat made me weak

i'm leaving for alger in a few minutes
the weather is a beautiful 80 and now
that i look over the invitation to the invitational show
i should have painted buttons

charles

Great to talk with you

Oh my goodness, sounds like the weather in Croatia in not all that
different than the weather in Washington, both about 10 degrees hotter
than we have been running.
WE are off to sell cars this morning, 2 of them now.
Tim and Byron went to see the throat singers and really enjoyed them.
Today we hope to go swimming after all the car stuff.
By is getting ready to go back to school.
I will probably take a class again this fall, took a humor class this
spring and will probably take a nature photography class this fall.
Pat's quilt is taking forever to figure out but we will get there.
Finishing a hooked rug for now and have lots of other projects going.
Tim is starting a whole new division at Sheridan for e-content, he just
can't help himself.
Elaine is looking into writing classes for the fall as well.
That's what we are up to for now.
The latest pictures of Eason are adorable!
Glad to hear Spencer is feeling better about things.
Probably talk to Julia on her return and we shall keep in touch with John.
All our best, Lynne and family

Kyra Says "Eason is 5 Months Old"

Well, Eason turned 5 months on July 27th, and still growing and changing faster than we can keep up with! He is now sitting for long periods on his own, rolls over regularly, sleeps on his tummy at times, and moved on from the gggg sound to the bbbb sound. He likes to take showers with us (since we have no bath tub!!), and in the heat wave cooled off with his wading pool. He had a great time at his aunt Indra's wedding, and got to meet his Chicago family for the first time. He was fascinated with his cousin Ella who is walking around like a rock star! It was great to see what we have to look forward to in a year!

Little Gardener at Cain's Lake

Sv. Martin

The old path from Milna to Bobovisca climbs from the sea 240 meters in
about two kilometers, then drops over 100 in the last one. For 400
years, before the modern road was constructed 35 or 40 years ago
re-routing the way, it was the main path to Milna. Like all of the old
ways, it was ruggedly built of native rock exclusively for foot use by
man and donkey. Bounded by walls of stacked stone a meter or more thick,
flanked by olive and almond, today it climbs narrow eroding causeways,
crowded by prickly rosemary and Christ's thorn, or opens into wide
plazas of parched and unclipped grass and rock. It is perhaps not too
difficult a walk, except in summer under the searing Dalmatian sun,
without shade, when the heat becomes intolerable.

Two-thirds of the way from Milna, at the summit of the path, grandly
overlooking rocky hills, valleys, villages, an islanded sea, and the
mainland, lies the small stone church of Svej Martin. Sv. Martin sits
solitary in a bare earth square bounded by low, stone walls. One of the
island's pre-Romanesque chapels, it has stood there for over a thousand
years. For centuries before it, on the same spot, stood an unknown Roman
shrine. And still earlier, this site as sacred to the Illyrians. (On the
clearance piles below the church you may still find fragments of Roman
amphora and pre-historic tile.)

Inside, Sv. Martin is plastered white, with a barreled vault and
semi-circular aspe, and perhaps half-a dozen tiny 'blind arcades.' On
the small, variegated marble altar stands a stone sculpture of Martin
himself, astride his horse, caught forever in the very moment of
shearing his cloak for the beggar-Christ. A Mary and child look on. The
sculpted stone has blackened over the centuries from candle smoke and
Sv. Martin's sword, presumably broken off and lost somewhen in time, has
been replaced by one neatly cut from sheet aluminum.

Outside, the air is alive with the sound of cicadas from a tiny stand of
pine, (Hermes Stand, as I call it – but that's another story) and the
whoosh of yugo or bura winds across the landscape. Perhaps a church bell
peals in Milna or Bobovisca; perhaps a sheep or donkey sounds.

In my mind, however, Sv. Martin stands in a sort of brilliant
dream-time, it's fundamental silence broken only by a single, sharp
clink of shard on stone.

So Sv. Martin's revelation in dream, where the slice of the sword on
fabric is the sound of tile on stone, and the beggar is all men and is
Christ.

Back in the shade of Hermes Stand, taking a cool drink of water, looking
beyond my island, I see Hvar, Vis, Solta, Split and there – that tiny
bump on the horizon– the rock Jabuka (the Apple) juts from the bare sea
half-way – so I'm told - to Italy.

Split -- 7/22

Caught the 9:30 catamaran directly from our riva to Split. First really
hot day in a pleasant week.

Walked the harbor to Archaeological Monument (Spomenika) Museum, then to
Mestrovich gallery and kastela. Back to Diocletian's palace. Julia
climbed the campanella at the palace. Pivo and kava, then catamaran
home. About 7 hours total time. Saw L. on cat. Saw Slavko and his
cousin, Ivana, the archaeology student, when we returned.

I was overheated the whole day, moving faintly from shade to shade as
Julia raced from sight to site. She was a powerhouse! Our top three
items each for trip:

John:

1.

Seeing three sailing dinghys of the type I've been looking at
building sailing in harbor.

2.

Being saved by "fast food" cevapi (Bosnian mild sausage) – robust
sandwich – and eating it in the shade in the park by the sea.

3.

Crashing prostrate on leather couch on second floor of Mestrovich
gallery, shoes and cap off, while Julia viewed the art. (Another
life saver. Nothing and no-one could induce me to move until I was
ready. See photo.)

Julia:

1.

Viewing Mestrovich sculpture.

2.

Climbing the campanella and the view over the palace and the town.

3.

Eating 'fast food' veggie pizza at non-tourist place and park.

//

Edison Eye Invitational (C&M)

EDISON EYE INVITATIONAL

Chapter 1

I spoke with the Baron this morning and he suggested I drop my painting off tonight instead of waiting till next Friday night. He said the gallery was open until 6 but he would be home tonight so just drop around the back with the painting if I arrived after 6 pm. At 6 pm I was laying on my back on the dock with the sun in my eyes and Melanie announced we would not make it to the Edison Eye by 6 pm.
















We arrived in Edison at about 7:15 and Melanie dropped me off at the Edison Eye and said she would be back in a few minutes after taking some photographs of
the sunset. As an aside, Edison was gorgeous tonight, so incredibly gorgegous. I walked around to the back of the Edison Eye and began to make my way to Dana's home past the calla lilies, the lavender and Hollyhocks and was met by Dana's dog who was barking and pacing around trying to determine whether I was afraid or not and then I heard Dana's voice yell "who is it?"















I walked in the kitchen door with my painting and showed it to both Dana and Toni who was eating some ice cream and berries. Dana was leaning back in his chair and mumbled something about whether or not the painting was a common household object or not... a vase? We moved past that faux pas into the fact that Toni had wanted to go sailing tonight and was sorry Dana had told me to drop by tonight. That was a bit awkward especially after Dana had just said I was an SOB for being late right before I arrived. I kept my composure and Toni was very nice and then Dana went to get the sign in sheet for the show. He yelled out to me "Where is Hurd's piece for the show?" Again I kept my composure and said, "Why John's in Croatia, in Splitt."

Toni yelled out in glee and asked what the Hurd's were doing in Splitt and I said actually they have a home on Brac in Milna and she smiled and laughed even harder. "My family is from the island of Solta right across from Brac. Dana and I want to go there to visit my family. Do you think they would rent their house to us? I assured Toni I could broker a vacation stay for them in your house on Milna. She was so delighted by the connection of the Skagit to the Dalmations that she took me out to show me her boat. It was a twelve footer that she said would be perfect for sailing around Brac.















Meanwhile, Melanie had driven down the road and locked her keys in the car while getting her camera out of the trunk. She had to hitch hike back into Edison to find me and then call the Road Side maintanence 800 number with Saab. She was calling the tow truck while Toni and I looked at her flowers and Dana walked around on the deck saying how he hated to lock his keys in the car so much that he stopped locking his car up at all.

Melanie and I walked across the street to the Edison tavern and stood outside waiting for the tow truck while a Bluegrass band played inside the tavern. After about 15 minutes a very large tow truck arrived and it turned out the driver lived in Edison and did work for Saab on the weekends and farmed during the week. That was lucky because otherwise we would have waited an hour for a truck to come from Bellingham.















We got to the car and while the tow truck driver opened up our car Melanie took the pictures of the sunset and the slough she had wanted to an hour before. What could have been a disaster turned out in the end to be a pleasant experience.

Stay tuned for Chapter Two: Saturday night at the Edison Eye.

Oh yeah, about the brokerage fee for setting up the rental of your home to Toni and Dana. Standard international rates apply.

As always Mr. Big Shot

Actually, it was Thucydides

So now beween Chaz and Mr. Big Shot I am reading both Herodotus and
Thucydides. And I just discovered that my edition is "selections from",
so now I'll never know what happened after Xerxes left Greece after his
fleet was destroyed in the Persian War! Damn!

Lynne Says Here's a Kick

(Ed. love the title here, eh?)

Dateline Milna, 7-17-09

We lead a simple life in the village -- a life that gets still simpler
as the heat climbs and the tourists increase.

We find ourselves going to the Riva (waterfront) less often. We eat
meals of cereal, rice and pasta, salads, fruit. in the cooler mornings,
we enjoy a coffee on our patio, then may work around the house and yard,
or go for a walk. Afternoons during the heat, we spend inside with the
shutters closed against the sun and the floor fan oscillating. We read
or work on the computer or play dominoes. Around 4 or 5 p.m., while it
is still hot, Julia goes to the village's pricey new 'cyber shop and
barber shop.' I am usually clever enough to grab a nap then, if I
haven't already done so several times earlier.

In the evening, we may stroll the Riva and get a gelato from Burim, the
Macedonian, visit neighbors, go for a short walk.
The fan was on all night last night.

Julia of course works long, hot, irregular hours on her Subud job.

We have no car at this point, so we are restricted to a couple of
kilometer radius around the village. Luckily, there are other villages,
coves, churches, and paths within that radius. And of course there is
always the village to explore.

I can rent a scooter at the marina. Did so with Brandon, will do so
again. Slavko gives us a ride to the bigger village, Supetar, if we
need it.

I have postponed looking at the bigger jobs that I have to do -
especially our Bosnian roof with its many leaks - choosing instead jobs
that are easily and quickly done - painting walls, furniture, weeding
the garden . . .

Within a week things will change. On Monday, Mate - a policeman during
the war and the man who took us into the mountains to find the 100 year
old gusle player two years ago - will catch the high-speed catamaran to
Milna and see if he can get Bella Bijela running and registered. (If
not, I will attempt to sell her in situ.)

In exactly one week, Almir and Zana will arrive from Sarajevo to
vacation with us. (Zana is quiet but Almir always needs excitement.)

In a little over two weeks, Julia will head back to the States and I
will be alone. Except that Almir will expect me to immediately go to
Sarajevo for their annual film festival.

So we enjoy the simple life while we can.

Mary of Carmel

We are here yet again on the village Saint's day, Mary of Carmel. Oldest
of gods, Mistress of Animals and Waters, Phyrgian Cybele, Attic Artemis
. . .

In the island museum, in Skrip, oldest Illyrian village on the island,
is a broken white stone pillar dedicated to "M.M." - Magna Mater . .
.Cybele, Great Mother, Mother of Mysteries . . . worshiped here two
thousand years ago . . .

In the cooling evening of this white hot day she is carried around the
village on her gilt throne on the shoulders of priests and elders,
seeking her blessing . . . seeing how it's all gone, the yatchs and
tourists and cafe shops, does she wonder if she made a good deal, giving
up the rich bull's blood, giving up being Mother of the Gods, for being
Mother of a Young God?

JP Woodcock Weighs In (Dateline Milna)

(Ed.: I've posted this to give JP's comment a little more prominence.
Luckily I have my pocket Thucydides with me too.)

. . ."a new comment on your post "Dateline Milna 7-15
<http://dsoup.blogspot.com/2009/07/dateline-milna-7-15.html>":

Actually, it was Thucydides in the History of the Pelopnnesian War who
began his study of the 20 some year conflict between Sparta and Athens
with a review of early Greek History.

At times we need to be careful what artists say over dinner. Maybe Chaz
mixed up his Historians after yet another libation.

Some will argue that History began with Thucydides others claim oral
History ended with Thucydides. I prefer to believe he was only
attempting to give an understanding of the incomparable struggle between
two states so close and yet so far apart.

JP Woodcock"

Posted by Anonymous to D'Soup <http://dsoup.blogspot.com/> at 9:10 PM

Dateline Milna 7-15

90 today. In the shade. A great Dalmatian lounging day. Got a fan going and reading Herodotus and how the Egyptians do everything backwards from the rest of the world. (Reading Herodotus since Chaz shamed me the other day when I was speculating about the cause of the depopulation of the Balkans in the neolithic by saying, 'Don't you know that? It's in the first paragraph of Herodotus.' Oh boy.)

Bella Bijela is proving to be a stubborn woman. Who can blame her, abandoned for the last 2 years ?. . . heck, she even had a big, insulting hornet nest in her right taillight.

I've made three trips up Mlin to woo her: spent money too. (That usually works.) New battery. Fresh gas. Starting fluid. All to juice her. Gonna have to try a mechanic, I guess. I hope she didn't overhear me saying that I would 'trade her for a boat in an instant,' or she'll never run again. Poor Bella!

Sunday, 7-12, Cain's Lake

cold marine air is blowing off the lake in gusts and the water has whitecaps
brought in the umbrella and towels
yesterday all the windows were open and still too hot
today all buttoned up inside and trying to stay warm

started the octopus painting last night
cold in the studio today
i'll go back out and paint a little
and listen to the french women on the radio babble on
about what i do not know they talk and laugh and talk
for 20 minutes and then some goof of a guy comes on
and breaks something and then the women laugh and
go on talking for another 20 minutes
the french are unique unto themselves

the korean grocer was late opening the glenhaven store
this morning
and i had to wait outside in the wind waiting to buy
some bread and drink
he finally opened but was grumpy to have to be working
I'm sure he is wondering why he only sees me on
Saturdays and Sundays
what does this man do the rest of the week and
where does he go in the winter

today feels like wet/cold season
i think we just have warm season and wet/cold season
what else do you need?

chaz

Dateline Milna, 7-14

Heat wave is a'comin'. Today promises to be plenty hot, so we take a
morning walk. By the time we return 2.5 hours later we are wringing wet
and overheated. Took the back road towards the big fish farm, but
ducked down a secret path, and found a beautiful little cove populated
only by moored sailboats.

This is our second walk. A couple of days ago we hiked out to Splitska
Vrata (Split's Gate), the narrow channel between Brac and Solta known
since antiquity as the entrance to the Imperial City of Split.

Of all things, we also went on a couples-date with Slavko and his new
bride, Nada, ending up at an open-air theater in the bigger neighboring
village of Supetar at midnight watching Tom Cruise (I know, I know, but
he did a really good job here) in Operation Valkyrie. I had to huddle
with my arms around Julia the whole movie to keep her from shivering
from the chill.

Also went up to see what shape Bella Bijela was in . . . walked in
circles for 1/2 hour on the hill above Milna, but finally found her,
visited with Ivan (who was watching my car for me) and his sister,
Angelka, and came home with agift of 1.5 liters of homemade white wine.

More on Bella later.

Helen Visits Amir

Hey Julia,

Sorry it has taken me so long to get back to you. We have been going,
going, going. And I didn't want to write you until I had pictures from
my lovely visit with Amir and his girlfriend Inela loaded onto my
computer since I know you would love to see them. They seem like a
really cute match. They met at his work where she was an intern. We
were able to meet up with them a few times for coffee (because that is
what Bosnians do!) and they took us through the center of the city and
pointed out the highlights. Inela is very sweet and funny. We liked
her very much and it was great to catch up with Amir. He seems to be
doing very well. It is funny to see him as a man instead of as the
scrawny goofy boy I remember from high school. =)

We did absolutely adore Bosnia. We found Sarajevo to be very nice and
definitely a fun place to people watch and I ate the best panna cotta
of my life at one of their little open-air sidewalk cafes. Out only
complaint is that everywhere you go people are chain-smoking and
neither of us have much tolerance for that. But we were also able to
head down to Mostar for several days and we loved it there as well.
The Stari Most is extraordinary. We even took a morning to hike way up
to the huge cross that overlooks the town. . .

Helen Hollister has been travelling the globe. You can read her blog at:
www.unrulyredhead.com

Korea July 12, 2009, dateline Milna

Korea is missing. For three days running now that I have returned to Milna I have watched his favorite spots. He is missing from the side alley by the butcher shop, missing from his little wooden stool in the shade near the public pay phone where he used to harass me as I phoned home to the States Julia, missing from the large spomenik by the sea with the great iron anchor – commemorative of Milna's seagoing history, missing from Dina's where he bought his litres of pivo.

Everyone else seems to be here and still in their proper places. Jere is here, walking his ceaseless rounds of the Riva shops and the village at large, hailing everyone, joking and gossiping, his days as a building contractor largely behind him. Ljiliana 2 still runs the hardware store and still has her little doggie. Stipe 1 is fresh in from his day watering his sheep at the deserted village of Smrka and is watering himself at Mille Naves on the Riva. Zoran, a giant of a man who works nights at the fish farm and days as a gardener, is there with his wife and child and friends.

Even Stipe 2, Korea's competition for used beverage bottles, dressed in his big baggy brown shorts and dirty tee-shirt, is still wheeling his hand cart from refuse bin to bin – it now sports a big handwritten label that says 'recycle bottles here' in 3 or 4 languages. (Although they
were never really competitors, since Korea only needed the deposit from enough bottles to earn another litre of beer or a pack of cheap cigarettes, while Stipe 2, his son, and brother run a major recycling
effort on thee island, even driving from village to village and beating out the locals there for their prizes, grossing – so embittered gossips say – 1000 euros a week.)

Korea is not an easy man to overlook. Stringy, unwashed hair; skin almost as dark as a ripe carob pod from the Dalmatian sun; unpleasant teeth; dirty shirts and cotton trousers – rags really - that were a uniform waste-water grey from age and dirt.

He would shuffle down the Riva, cursing, yelling back at Jere who taunted him, laughing and laughing. I would find his cigarette butts here and there where I was trying to sit, or find him sitting on the white stone curb, blocking my way to the sea.

But I have not found him this time.

Someone said that he drank too much, had stomach problems, and spent 10 days in the hospital drying out. Someone said that you can find him now, nursing a soka down by Cafe Fontana.

I dunno. The Korea I knew would never drink a juice, never reform.

Perhaps I will watch for him tonight as Julia and I promenade past the Fontana in the cool evening. But even if he were there, now, I'm sure I would never recognize him.

No, Korea is missing and I have no more idea of his whereabouts than I could guess the original color of his shirt, or how he came by his strange nickname.

Early Saturday, Dateline Milna

By 10 p.m. we fled the Riva, I feel strangely agitated by travel,heat, a single glass of pivo, foreign sounds and movement.

Now, by 2:30 a.m., the drunken singing from the Riva, which had sounded suprisingly good from my house on the brizak, has been replaced by the wind and rain of a thunderstorm blowing over from Italy.

Our shutters groan at being shoved rudely back and forth by the wind. I rise and adjust our window to keep out the rain but still let in the cool air. The sky goes white. I count, "One thousand-one, One thousand-two, One
thousand-three, One thousand-four, One thousand-five, One thousand-six, One thousand-seven . . ."

I am looking down at our courtyard in the darkness. A flickering will-o-wisp brightly flees up our tiny street, passes without hesitation through our closed steel mesh gate, flickers round the corner of our storage shed, and vanishes into the stony field beyond.

The rain picks up and steadies itself, calming me.

07/09/09 Dateline Milna (or Euro: 09/07/09)

Late afternoon, 89 degrees F, 34 C, but pleasant in our house and a cool
breeze on the Riva (waterfront.)

Slept all day after arriving last night.

Composing this offline for a 'pirate' posting when the neighbors
wireless network comes on.

Big fire on Brac last year. We could see its blackened traces on the
drive from the ferry yesterday evening. It started of all places at
Milna and burned for two weeks almost to Supetar, 18 or so kilometers
away. Slavko says it was started by a crazy guy who I must have seen
before -- long stringy hair, missing two front teeth,etc. He was
evidently burning brush when the wind caught his fire and spread it.
(This was the same guy who burned down his neighbors storage building 10
years ago cuz he felt he was owed some money!)

There is some variation of this story every year. Two years ago it was
Solta, our small neighboring island: smoke darkened the sky above the
Mina Riva for a couple of days, lending a fantasic atmosphere to my
evening pivo (beer). There was also a small burn on Brac that year.
Three years ago, it was Hvar, if I remember rightly. Four years ago, it
was a careless cigarette-smoking Frenchwoman on Vidova Gora on Brac.
That one caused a lot of damage, burning through valleys and denuding
hills for many kilometers. The number of stone mounds and walls exposed
was staggering.

As you can see from photos, we have quite a little jungle growing on our
small patio. And this is AFTER Julia weeded. In the one photo, you can
see the fig, peach, and lavendar crowding the back way to our house.
(My escape route.) In the other photo, see part of the bumper crop of
peaches that we have this year.

By the way, Julia had this place sparkling! What a joy! The only thing
to dampen (!) it is the water damage to the back room and some other
walls. Gotta really look at that roof we had our Bosnian crew put on.

I am glad to say that after an absence of two years, Milna still looks
the same to me. Even the same old folk on the benches, steps, and
wandering the Riva; it looks like thee frantic development of the past
several years has stalled for a little while at least.

Some July 4th Flowers -- Our Garden

Julia Report from Milna

From the wedding last night... Jadranka was a bit surprised to see me – I greeted her and Niksa in the reception line. Lots of Klapa singing outside their house before and in front of the church after!

Nada, the lady that has a summer house behind us, said this is the nicest church on Brac – it must be!

No! No! When I'm RIDING My Horse!!! (Americans Never Get It Right)

Carrying Cement up our street in Milna.

(Click on image to enlarge)

Eason Sez: Oh My Gosh! Food is Great! Eating is Fun!!!

His very first solid food: yellow veggies . . .

Snapshots from Julia in Milna (Click to Enlarge)

The capers growing on our wall:














Our overgrown patio:
















Slavko and Nada on their steps:

Quiltythings

Lynne shares a website she discovered with wild and wonderful quilty art:

http://pamelart2.homestead.com/quiltythings.html

Julia Writes from Milna: Made It, but Sick!

I am sick! I began with this cold or whatever it is about four days ago – but now I have a fever and really do not feel good at all...but of course was desperate to check email.

I made it here just fine – wasn’t so bad after all – yeah I was tired, but there was a bus waiting at the airport going to the bus station, and there was plenty of time to get the midnight bus. It only took 20 minutes to get from the airport to the bus station (I thought it was longer). Then there was a ferry immediately and being so early in the morning there was NO traffic, etc (5:30 am). The only minor glitch is that I missed the bus waiting in Supertar and had to wait 1.5 hrs. No big deal.

Of course now I have lots of time to work and putter around here. The place always needs a good cleaning after being left all winter – vacuum the webs, etc. I have a ton of stuff to do – I’m writing this before I’ve checked out the internet. I haven’t seen anyone yet.

The outside is completely overgrown – even more so than last fall. The fig tree is doing great and the lavender is huge. But I’ll try to weed and plant your seeds.

I fell down and knocked my glasses off and so now they are crooked and loose – did that in Spain.

Love,

Julia

Ten Years