After much reading, thinking and deliberating about blogging, I have finally decided to try it! So yes this is my very first attempt at blogging and I am hoping to make it a regular feature of my life.
I am writing from a city that has been described as ‘the coolest little capital in the world’ and to which I have arrived only recently. It is Wellington of course, at the bottom on New Zealand’s North Island.
New Zealand became my home some 18 years ago when I was ‘transplanted’ here from a beautiful little country in the Central Europe that stretches from glorious mountains to the most picturesque sea shore you can imagine … but that is the whole another story, a story that, with the help of this blog, may one day find its way out of my memories and land on the paper, (God knows it has been trying long enough -:).
But in my ‘adopted country’ (who adopted who -:?) I have lived in the middle of a North Island, then South Island and now again North Island … in between there have been a stint of some two years in a another wonderful European country … well some people may call that restless, or unsettled, but I rather think of it as courage’s, and curious … and of course a little bit crazy -:)!
Amongst those wonderings I lived through one war, raised one wonderful child, studied, worked, loved and lost … grieved and was grieved for … never far from hope, never far from a spark of life … that illuminates darkness like a shooting star on the summer sky. Oh life, glorious life in all its forms, all its beauties, and tragedies … and so this little corner is both; mine and about me … as Dostoevsky wrote so long ago; ‘I can see the sun, but even if I cannot see the sun, I know that it exists. And to know that the sun is there – this is living.’
And I never ceased to believe that it is indeed so, even when life resembled barren desert and there was so little to believe in. But alas if we do not struggle through life deserts, how could we ever rejoice in its oasis’ … and so here I am; turning light on in my lantern to illuminate way and help me find my voice in English, language I knew nothing about when I first reached these shores in the waste ocean of South Pacific, but which is now almost the only tool left to me to forge my words with. Still; I have not forgotten, and neither can or wish to, my language, my first country, or people … one day I may find them again … or they may find me.
During the sharp and serious hours of day light, I am rather engaged in shuffling papers in one of those institutions, great Russian novelist Gogol described so aptly; ‘In the department of … the touchiest things in the world are departments, regiments, courts of justice, in a word, all branches of public service. Therefore, in order to avoid all unpleasantness, it will be better to designate the department in question, as a certain department.’ But once serious business of the day has ended and another daily crust earned, a cloak is taken off and lantern lit … all is possible!
If you stumble upon this blog, either by chance or design, write to me … lift the pebble in the endless cyber space!