How to survive in the city

How to survive in the city

Park refugee

Taking a walk down the street in a city like ours is a luxury for a sociopath like me. I don’t do crowds very well. A regular person would spend just about ten minutes to get to the university from where I live. But for me that means rubbing shoulders at traffic lights and getting exposed to all kinds of urban noises. So I take a long way through the park. Its fluffy branches lock behind me protectively severing off all the hustle and I find myself surrounded by green silence. It’s so dense that I can almost scoop it up with my hands. I follow the winding path between the trees and run my fingers over their bark and leaves. This is our way of saying hello to each other. I believe each tree has a soul, just like us, and if you bond with one, you can feel its energy, its breath, even its thoughts. My favorite tree is a willow I dubbed Gwendolyn. She grows in the remote part of the park where nobody comes. Except me, I guess. I like to read, write or simply daydream in her shade. Too bad she’s just a tree… Or I’m just a human.

 

A tree for birthday

One day I woke up to frantic hammering on my door. It’s either police or my best friend Nina, I thought. And I was right. Nina appeared at my doorstep with a mysterious smile and an even more mysterious roll under her arm. ‘What’s this?’ I mumbled slowly getting back to reality. ‘This is your birthday, lunatic,’ was the answer. ‘And this is your present.’ I unrolled the paper and stared at it suddenly wide awake. That was a canvas artwork depicting my park! And my Gwendolyn growing right where she should be! First I thought it was Nina who painted it, but as much as she wanted me to think so she had to confess it was someone else’s doing. At this point there are three things about Nina I have to tell you:

  • She kind of paints herself
  • She’s crazy about Impressionism
  • She is half Jewish

So even without knowing the name of the author, you are safe to suppose it was a Jewish impressionist. All right, no more suspense. Leonid Afremov. If you never heard about him, you should definitely visit his gallery where you can buy canvas art online cheap and fast.  Even I, a person with no eye for art, was stunned by the brightness of colors and abundance of light. Now the painting hangs over my desk and sometimes it looks so real that it seems I can hold out my hand and touch Gwen’s leaves. It’s like having another window in my room that opens right into the park! How great there is a place where everyone can purchase a nice canvas artwork online without going anywhere and literally doing anything! So my advice: if you are looking for worthy canvas art, buy online on Leonid Afremov’s website!

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Out of space

Out of space

As a kid, I dreamed of flying into space. Most of us did, but for me it had a special meaning. I used to have a mobile in the shape of the Solar System – nine cute colorful planets spinning over my head as I was falling asleep. Every day I woke up with another scenario to stage on their plastic orbits. So there I was floating between them in a shiny spacesuit, diving into craters and flying off to distant stars twinkling on the outskirts of my imagination. Back then, space seemed small and familiar, no bigger than my own nursery. Now I look into the night sky and I can clearly feel my own insignificance. What if we are indeed all alone in the Universe? Just imagine, in a few billion years our planet will disappear without a trace. And that will be the end. Everything we’ve done and achieved will turn into a bunch of cosmic dust. And nobody will ever know we even existed. Thoughts like that aren’t recommended for lunch. So I’m getting back to my cozy plastic Universe and give it another spin hoping this world isn’t for nothing. And now some pretty photos from Nasa to fix digestion: http://www.nasa.gov/subject/6894/galaxies/

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The ESO 3.6-metre telescope at La Silla, during observations. 
Hi, people and their virtual selves

Hi, people and their virtual selves

I’m Kara Summers, a girl-who-starts-hundreds-of-blogs-but-never-writes-anything. You might have seen their empty shells floating all over the web, long left by their hostess. The consequences are sad: I’m running out of things to tell about myself. Well, let’s see… I’m 23. I have freckles. I can eat a bucket of maple syrup. I collect vinyl records. I like books more than people. I study literature during the day and write verses after dark (that’s why nobody actually read them except my cat). And, as you already know, I start hundreds of blogs but… The fate of this one is yet unclear though. Be nice to it and it might last.