liriel of nothing important

… ja see oli kergendus, õnnelik mõte. Jalalihased olid krampis, kanna taga olid villid, ma olin korralikus tempos maha käinud juba 30 kilomeetrit, kui mitte arvestada seda maad, mis oli Rakvere kesklinnast linna servani rahulikumas tempos kõnnitud. Ma olin täis tahtejõudu kõndida need viimased viis samas tempos - hoolimata kõigist füüsilistest takistustest, kõndida lõpuni, ma suudan seda!

Ja see oli kummaline mõte, sest peale selle mõtte mõtlemist ma järsku taipasin, mida ma olin mõelnud ja naersin mõttes ise selle üle - alles see oli, kui viis kilomeetrit tundus piisavalt pikk, et seda jala küll ei hakkaks kõndima. Meenus, kuidas kooli ajal sai käidud Arukülast (koolist) Peningile (koju) ja tee tundus ikka väga pikk ja sai ette võtetud ainult siis kui bussini ikka liiga palju aega oli (üle tunni - siis jõudis täpselt samal ajal koju kui buss). Kummaline, et peale kolmekümmet kilomeetrit on viie kilomeetri ees see “ainult”.

Ja see oli sügav mõte, sest pani mõtlema, kuidas vahemaad on suhtelised. Vanasti ju ainult jalgsi käidigi, sõbrale või sugulasele naaberasulasse külla minek oli ikkagi mitmepäevane ettevõtmine, eriti kui veel ei olnud ka hobust selleks teekonnaks kasutada. Kuidas tänapäeval mõni inimene sõidab iga päev tööle nii kaugelt kui vanasti läks sõidukski aega mitu päeva. Kuidas ma ise ka ei oska mõistlikult hinnata seda vahemaad, mis on külade ja linnade vahel, sest neid saab kerge tukkumise saatel auto või bussi istmel kiiresti ja rahulikult läbitud. Kuidas ma ei oska mõistlikult hinnata kogu seda energiat, mis iga päev kulub kogu sellele transpordile, mis võiks vabalt olemata olla.

Ma mõtlesin seda mõtet kaks aastat tagasi kui olin kõndinud enamuse teest Rakverest Võsule. See on see mõte, mille pärast ma läksin eelmisel aastal uuesti kõndima ja käesoleval aastal jälle. Defining moment, nagu ingliskeelsed ütlevad. Aga ometi tekitab see mõte ja kogu see kõnd minus siiani kummastust - midagi on seal veel, midagi, mida ma ei ole suutnud veel enda jaoks lahti seletada, pole suutnud päris õigesti mõista, miks see on nii hea tunne. Midagi seoses enese võitmisega, uhkusega enese keha üle, võidurõõmust, et said hakkama vägitükiga. Võibolla pole just suurim vägitükk kõndida see 35 kilomeetrit, aga minu jaoks on see üks suurimaid saavutusi ja ma tahan veel, ikka ja jälle seda läbi teha.

See kõndimine sai alguse 1997. aastal, kui kolmel Rakvere noormehel oli vaja saada õhtuks Võsule. Vaene aeg - autot polnud kuskilt võtta, bussi sel päeval ei läinud, aga Võsul ootasid suvilad ja peod. Keegi käis välja mõtte, et lähme jala ja jõuame õhtuks kohale küll. Mõeldud-tehtud - ju siis oli ikka väga vaja, nagu need noored ikka on, peod on tähtsad. Raske oli see kõndimine, üle seitsme tunni kulus, iga natukese aja tagant oli puhkus. Kohale jõudes oldi nii väsinud, et peost suurt asja ei olnud. Järgmisel aastal tekkis taas olukord, kus oli vaja Võsule - võibolla oleks isegi teisiti saanud, aga kuna eelmine aasta oli ju sellega hakkama saadud, oli tõestatud, et see on võimalik ja oli lahe tagasi mõelda, millega oli hakkama saadud (mis seal lahedat oli? keegi ei saa aru, aga lahe on ikka.) ja seega tehti lihtsalt lõbu pärast uuesti kõndimine. Seekord saadi parem aeg, alla kuue tunni. Ja järgmisel aastal kõnniti jälle eesmärgiga saada alla 6 tunni - siis võib tunnistada, et ollakse vormis. Sellest sai traditsioon, et kolm sõpra leppisid iga aasta kokku ühe päeva, mille nad veetsid kõndides Rakverest Võsule. Iga aasta ei saadud küll paremat aega, aga tee hakkas minema aina kiiremini. Hakati keelitama teisi tuttavaid kõnnist osa võtma. Mõned tulid, mõned neist katkestasid, aga mõned käisid lõpuni ja tulid järgmine aasta jälle. Mõni käis lõpuni, aga ei tabanud seda head tunnet, mis erinevatel andmetel kas kohe peale kõndi või alles järgmisel hommikul tuleb ja mis järgmisel aastal uuesti kõnnil osalema, seda tunnet taga ajama paneb.

Mina liitusin seltskonnaga 2006. aastal ja olin esimene naine, kes teekonna läbis ja pole seda üritust vahele jätnud - peale seda õnne, mis ma tundsin esimesel aastal maa läbimisest; peale seda kummaliselt absurdset õnnelikku mõtet viimase viie kilomeetri sildi juures; oma valulike lihaste tundmaõppimist järgmisel päeval; oma õnne eneseületusest ja hakkamasaamisest. Osalejaid on olnud mitmeid, aga põhitegelased, need kolm sõpra, on selle tee igal aastal ette võtnud.

Miks? Keegi ei oska anda ühest vastust.

Mõnus on. Lõbus.

See on ju traditsioon. Kõnd ise aga ka pilt mõlema asula piiri ääres, peatus Haljala poes, puhkus Villandis suurel kivil…

Uhke tunne on. Eriline on.

Absurdselt naljakas on. Eriti absurdne oli see sel aastal, kui kõigepealt viidi õhtuks asjad autoga Võsule, siis sõideti autoga Rakverre, kust jalgsi jälle Võsule kõnniti.

Aina parem aeg on - see aasta oli esimestel 5 tundi ja 2 minutit, järgmine aasta on plaan alla viie tunni saada. Seekord olid kaasas sammulugejad - umbes 40 000 sammu oli see tee. Tekib sportlik hasart aina paremat aega saada.

Huvitav on järgmistel päevadel tajuda, kuidas kilomeetrid on saanud uue tähenduse, kuidas nad lendavad mööda ilma mingi pingutuseta - kui istud autos. Mäletada autoasistudes, kuidas sai ühte kurvi nii pikalt järjest vaadatud - ja sellest kiiresti läbi sõita.

Aga midagi veel…

Juba mõeldakse välja, et võiks alustada traditsiooni ka sarnase talvise kõnniga…

Naerdakse, et kunagi minnakse ratastoolidega seda teed läbima, kui jalad enam ei kanna…

Mina lähen järgmisel aastal jälle kui vähegi võimalik.

Uuendatud: Parandatud faktivead vastavalt ühe osalise kommentaarile.

Funny thing. I just happened to be stuck on a problem and decided to relax my mind with a test or two. And it seems like the theme in one of the greatest (as in big) sites seems to be music. I recently blogged about music. Now you see why the posts were as they were :)

You Are Classical Music

You are a somewhat serious person who enjoys studying subjects deeply. Art of all kinds interests you, and a good piece of art can really effect you emotionally. You are inspired by human achievement, and you appreciate work that takes years to accomplish. For you, the finer things in life are not about snobbery - they’re about quality.

What Your Taste in Music Says About You

Your musical tastes are intense and rebellious. You are intelligent… but in a very unconventional way. You are curious about the world. You love doing something new. In fact, you enjoy taking risks and doing things most people would shy away from. You are very physical. It’s likely that you’re athletic, but not into team sports. You have the soul of an artist. Beauty and harmony are important to you.

It really IS uncommon of me to write about music. It is, you must believe me. Even though I do it again and again… I know nothing about it, I have some unbearable (for others) beliefs about it and I would get flamed down in any decent commentarium. But I am not writing very directly about music and this is my blog and I do whatever I like here. As I’ve said before - you have the freedom of not reading it.

This time my excuse is Destroyah’s article about Hard Rock Camp (and some kind of strange insomnia). I think the article is a very entertaining read and I would like to read hilarious stuff like that again. I also think that when one is writing an article in a website about music then one should primarily focus on the music. And this time he almost didn’t - this article belongs to his private blog or memoirs (or psychiatric session). I agree that the atmosphere is also important when reviewing a festival, yet this time he has gone over the border and most of the action and atmosphere is inside his head. And when I. sent me this link I was hoping to get something to remind me of the bands there, something I believe many people think when clicking this link - either in some e-mail or on the page itself.

Do better then, I hear a common sense crying out to me. I can’t for the reasons listed earlier. And I know I have just the same problem when writing about something - I write more about myself enjoying it than the thing itself. That is how I recognize it so easily. That’s why it raises my will enough to move my fingertips on this keyboard right now.

But more than that- this was the most indifferent festival I have ever been to. I do remember names of the bands but I can only remember their appearance or sound for only a few of the bands. I enjoyed some of them, but it was an unremembering enjoyment. Most of them just left me cold - and I had decided rather to be drunk than cold (and in this I did not succeed).

OK, I’ll do as much of my bit as I can - though I believe posts about the HRC 2008 experience are popping up in Estonian blogosphere like  mushrooms after rain (and of rain there was much) and most of them more competent to say something about these bands than I ever wish to be.

My best of the festival was Taak. It is surprising, I was taken by surprise, that is probably how I was taken at all. I had thought Taak to be just a cheap copy of Metsatöll, though I had never before happened to see or hear them. Now I think they are fiercer, more serious - and most important - more real than ‘töll. Afterwards I had the pleasure of seeing Taak’s singer at the common eating table while ‘töll was on and this experience was a pleasure in itself. Now I have also seen him already two times passing me on a bicycle and I have been tempted both times of giving him the horns. Taak is the only thing I would really like to listen again some time, preferably live. I am not that much of a folk-metal fan really, that is probably how I didn’t know about Taak until now.

A few words about Metsatöll? Not so good as on Rabarock. Maybe because I had just seen them a few weeks ago this time.

Tiss raised in me Kiss nostalgia I didn’t know I could have. Only for me it is not about Kiss but a kiss at a Kiss tribute night some 5 years ago (I only now remembered that it was actualy a Kiss tribute night) and a whole pubful of motorcyclists raising their classes and roaring “I! Wanna rock’n'roll all night! And party every day!”. In this Tiss certainly succeeded, also they were quite entertaining for so early of the second day.

Leech’s singer didn’t drink red wine - it was pink (okay, rose). Also, his belt was bright pink. Not to mention the light pink blouse and purple sneakers. Pinkmania. It must have been deliberate. But otherwise unmemorable for me. Okay, I guess, I didn’t feel any need to go away in the middle, that is, they weren’t unpleasant, but they weren’t memorable either.

Jana Kask - I know I’ll get myself in trouble because of all the ecstatic comments I’ve heard about her, but I’ll say it as I think nevertheless. The first time she appeared on the stage I was shocked - she sang in a small babe’ish voice, was dressed in a dress that didn’t fit and that she didn’t wear well and acted as though it wasn’t her place to be there, like she was some girl from the public suddenly dragged to the stage. I was so disappointed that it was another shock for me to see all the enthusiastic faces about me. It must be me. I have only been confirmed in that conviction afterwards. When she came back she let the voice sound better, but it just didn’t feel right for me then as well. Jana, be sure, your performance can be improved quite a bit. At first - go in pants as you are probably more used to - that’s by the looks of you. Looks probably better on you. Did your voice sound weird only to me and only at this moment or should it be also improved? I don’t know. I am far from being expert.
(Please don’t hit very hard, o’ new fans of the Idols show…)

More bits and pieces I remember… There were many too angry men from many countries and I didn’t watch too many or too much of them. Witchcraft stood almost perfectly still, the sound was OK. Sõpruse Puiestee felt out-of-place. Primordial didn’t light me, it was somehow far off. Amorphis’s singer had fantastic hair, but my mind was elsewhere while listening to it. It must have been OK.

That’s it. From atmosphere - Weatherman be blamed, atmosphere was quite wet and cold. Fun was what I had with some guys, thanks to all of you - fun about the bands is what I remember more than the bands themselves.

Better watering service is what I suggest for the organizer team to organize next time - it has to be accessible and not straight from the sky.

Probably I will not be going to HRC next year unless some band I really know I like will show up (I saw Tiamat on old HRC shirts there, I almost cried).

Other reviews I know about:

Metalstorm, Destroyah

Vetikavabrik

But you use google to find more - then you’ll see how wrong I am :)

No hard feelings, right..?

Once, a few months ago - yet I remember it as if it was yesterday - I was at a concert in an old building with high ceilings. There were not too many people at the concert - just enough that we didn’t feel to be alone. The band was fabulous - the music was the kind that you can experience with all your senses. For me it was like a silky half-transparent scarf gently slipping over my fingertips with a light rosy fragrance raising from it - that kind of sensual feeling but all over my senses, including something deep inside, which isn’t really defined as a sense. It was heightening my spirits, making my mind wander and dream of things and places and feelings I visit rarely. It made me want to relax and cuddle in the arms of someone I love.

And that was exactly what I was doing. I was sitting on a deep windowsill together with my most loved man and experienced the music in the only right way. Our relationship is not what this story is about so I don’t go into it. What matters is that we were there very sweetly together when we spotted someone very beautiful and fragile right before our eyes, at the upper side of the window, between us and the rest of the people in a way. It was a most magnificient being, more beautiful than any of her kind.

It was crimson red and pink by her color with elegant patterns along her body and legs. But the pattern itself, as fine and beautiful as it was, was not the only adornment she had - she also had white seashell-like pieces all over her body. Her head was darker than the body, both of them covered with soft short dark red and pink hair. The legs were long and elegant, with joints just so that you could imagine her being a lady at the highest of courts. She was about 30 centimeters in diameter and hanging on her elaborate and fragile web with all of her eight legs.

Yes she was a spider, but she was a most beautiful one as you can determine from my description. I had seen a movie on Discovery about her species and knew her to be quite harmless to humans unless threatened and this we certainly didn’t. As we had been - highly enjoying - we were enraptured now by the beauty of this magnificient being, just admiring her in an awe quite more intense than any usual amazement. I knew that the seashell-like protrusions were to be its protection from predators - the shell-like protection that lets her survive even being so big and highly visible, but they were elegant and beautiful as well. The whole being holding her balance on the silky web, the fragility, the harmony and symmetry made her a true nature’s work of wonder.

But as we were enjoying our most unusual view, the others also became gradually aware of the creature. Unfortunately they had not seen the movie and, as is usual for people of all nations and races and sexes, were quite a bit afraid of what they saw as an enormous arachnid threatening them and thus reacted by screaming and moving themselves in what the spider certainly thought of as threatening moves from creatures tens of times bigger than she was. The first defense is certainly attack and so this the spider did - it started moving the web in sudden movements; threatening, but never really attacking.

Me and my boyfriend - we grew afraid for the spider. Certainly soon some gentleman in the crowd is going to try to impress his lady by killing this wonderful being he sees as a terrible beast. We didn’t want this to happen, so before anyone else could react - harmfully to our mutual object of admiration - my boyfriend rose from his warm and comfortable place beside me and gently took the spider from her web to his most beautiful hands (I admit, I have a bit of obsession about men’s hands and these two - my boyfriend’s hands and the spider in its defense position - were a most remarkable view). She drew herself into defensive position, which resembled a fist-sized egg, but was much stronger with the seashell-like protrusions fitting together with a precision quite worth of wonder in itself. A wonder - to behold, but not to possess. He took her outside the door, to nature where she can feel safe again and do whatever spiders do when they are not threatened by two-metre tall creatures.

This is a dream… Unfortunately there is no such spider as that magnificient being in this dream. And this man has never really been my loved one either, at least he hasn’t known about it. But after this dream I actually became interested in spiders and how they are quite harmless, but still hated irrationally. Even Liriel, my namesake and actual name source, was made to fight with L’loth, Demon Queen of Spiders in the books, a comparison to fighting evil heritage in herself.

Me, I have never hated them and thought of them as well as I could, but still, even when rescuing a spider caught in a slippery bath with no exit but the flush-hole and death, I couldn’t grab it with my hand and fought with disgust even when quickly shaking it off the towel to somewhere safer. I have always tried not to be phobic of such animals and situations, been proud of not shrieking at the sight of another nature’s creature, but secretly I was also ashamed of it being hard for me, the common archanophobia, though deep and controlled, being present in me as well. I cannot honestly say that this is over, but I know that I have stepped a great step towards it being so.

More so because I have another story to tell about those great creatures (not great by heart but great by being as magnificient as nature can make). I am proud to say that the pictures you see here illustrating the beauty of those creatures are not copied from somewhere on the web. They are taken by me about someone on the web, a newest neighbor of mine. That is, a few weeks ago I discovered a web behind my window and in the middle of the web a queen - a spider. It was the chance of a lifetime to take pictures of such creature from close up - sad thing that my window wasn’t as clean as it should have been and my camera doesn’t have manual focus to take just the right pictures. And, as it was, after a few days she was gone again.

I was happy I had seen her, known her even as briefly as I did, but sad she was gone. And now, just a week or so ago, I found that another one had taken that same place. And this one was bigger and with colored pattern on her body somewhat resembling the beauty in my dream (I speculate that she could be the same spider really, but grown now - not the same as in this dream but the same as before behind my window). I took more pictures and stopped opening that window, not to disturb my new neighbor.

She is doing quite well there. Now instead of watching different shows on National Geographic, Animal Planet and Discovery, I go to my window and watch my peaceful and beautiful new friend going about and living. It is quite a show to be honest! I have taken on to read a bit about them as well and have already had some confirmations for the facts I have read. I even know that the spider seems to be of species called European Garden Spider or Cross Spider and is very common around here - but with the patterns on her body being brighter than any I have seen so far. The white “cross” resembles me the white seashells on my dream-spider, the bright brownish color the deep crimson of her. I am really happy to have her here and I am trying to take the best of it as long as it lasts.

For example, just today I observed as the spider rebuilt most of its web and while doing so - what do you think she did with the parts she didn’t need there anymore? She reused them, at least she did eat them and afterwards she put out a new and pure thread at the right places. And there was a rhythm to the weaving - one leg finds the next place to glue the thread, another holds her just from the right distance from the last row, another holds it for a moment just so - to harden a bit? to make sure it is just as long and elastic as she needs it to be? - and then glues the line with the thread-emitting organ at the end of her body. Always moving on momentarily, so precise the work, so quick each step, with an half an hour or less the web was just as it had been new - although there are somewhere around 30 base lines from center to my house’s walls and window.

And more, I have seen her eating, I have seen her reacting to the minute movement in the web, I have seen her sitting there majestically - er, like a spider queen in the middle of her web. I have stood there and admired her and I hope she will have a good long life and doesn’t go away from behind my window any time soon. At least it seems to be a good place for eating - in a one hour period I saw at least two small insects getting trapped.

* I reference the spider as a she because although I don’t know, which she really is, she resembles more of a she than he to my human eyes. And though it is right to say It about animals in English, I feel it is very rude to be doing so. Maybe my English teacher was wrong and it really is more of a cultural thing…

T: “I felt so sorry about sea lion pups being eaten by killer whales…”

Me: “Did you also feel sorry for the polar bear?”

T: Funny look. “No…” Laughs uncomfortably.

(Approximate conversation after seeing Deep Blue in a cinema, a few years back. Those who haven’t seen it - the polar bear didn’t catch any white whales that day, but please do watch the movie.)

When I watch documentaries about nature I am always angry that I have to explain about the balance of nature to my son myself (T above wasn’t my son but a 30+ respectable man very dear to me). Always in these movies they comment as to make people commiserate with the prey. “Aww, the cute little seal pup was brutally killed.” “Oh yeah, this lucky whale escaped and bad-bad polar bear has to find its meal elsewhere.”

Hello..? This is what life is all about in nature for carnivores - kill or be hungry and die of it yourself. You should feel just as sorry for the polar bear as for the seal pup as for any other animal. Or rather, you shouldn’t feel sorry but understand that this is part of life, this is how ecosystem works. There has to be balance, there has to be diversity. There can’t be evolution - nature’s way of progress - if the weakest ones aren’t killed, if the predators don’t limit their multiplicity, if the prey always escapes the predator.

Think about it next time when you see another movie about prey and predator, the diverse biosphere of our dear Earth - the delicate and exact balance, a whole system working together. Think about it next time you bring home a steak - think yourself a killer whale who has brought home a handful of sea lion pups for dinner. Think about it next time you see a homeless man asking for a penny or hear about hungry children in Africa. Think about it next time when you worry about our planet’s ecosystem and how humankind has dominated it to all biosphere’s danger. Think about it next time you hear of mankind’s biggest predators, the smallest as to be invisible to the naked eye. It is all one big complicated system where everyone has to do what he has to do to survive and continue his line. Species are dangerous to others, this is how they survive. Population growths have to be limited to the size of resources to make any living for the whole species possible. The prey can’t be killed off to the limit where they can’t sustain themselves or the predator dies as well. No link in the system can’t be removed or the whole system shifts and changes and these changes are not yet wholly predictable by any man. But it is a system, a balance, and telling just one part of the story is not enough.