The Urban Mystic

Иво Андриќ

2012-01-04T22:32:00.003+01:00

Расказите на Иво Андриќ ме раздрмаа и воодушевија. "Прича о везировом слону" и уште девет раскази собрани во едно издание, од оние црвените, старите, "Реч и мисао". Расказот 'Смрт у синановој текији' е веројатно наубавиот расказ што сум го прочитал до сега. Сега после повеќе години се спремам да ја препрочитам 'Мостот на Дрина' и за првпат да ја прочитам 'Травничка хроника'. Им пристапувам со возбуда и почит. Еве што вели на самиот крај на освртот на расказите на Андриќ, Велибор Глигориќ:

Dozivljaj tragike ljudoskog zivota bice je Andriceve proze. Ona joj daje tezinu i dubinu zahvata u ljudske sudbine. Mladost pesnika Andrica zrtvovana je samicama tamnica i konfinacija, propracena velikim unutrasnjim dusevnim krizama i porazima iluzija, no isto tako i sticajem ranog zivotnog iskustva, prodorima u tajne zivota i ljudske prirode. Umetniku Andricu razvila se vec u mladim godinama svest o kompleksu ljudske psihe, o antagonizmima jave i sna covekovog, o elementarnim silama koje izbijaju iz ljudske prirode. Razvio se kod njega filozofski odnos prema zivotu, cije ga neispitane dubine neodoljivo privlace. Pesnik, filozof, psiholog i artist, potomak onih neimara koji su nadahuto stvarali trajne lepote mostova - nasli su harmonicno klasicno jedinstvo u Andricevoj umetnickoj licnosti.

Дечиња

2011-12-30T23:38:00.001+01:00

На Гедора, Рагбена, Ешко, Сара, Сухамед, Мевљана,

Рафаел, Арбихан, Селвија, Мартин, Медијан, Бекир...

Мислиш ли Создателу

на сите овие дечиња

со кал под нивните ноктиња

со сјајни бели запчиња

или црни од ефтини колачиња?

Им пееш ли ноќе Создателу

на сите овие дечиња

тивки и небесни мелодии

дури спијат и сонуваат

со насмевка да се разбудат?

Плачеш ли понекогаш Создателу

за сите овие дечиња

низ дождот што тивко ромоли

по трошните лимени покриви

и нежно се лее по нивните лица

како солзи ангелски?

Мост (На Иво Андриќ)

2011-12-18T23:58:00.003+01:00

Во снежната ноќ,

возевме крај мостот на Дрина

разговарајќи за Штајнбек, Толстој, Џојс...

И за тој стар мост, што и да го снема

ќе продолжи да постои заради тебе.

Like Jesus Himself

2011-12-15T20:44:00.002+01:00

There is something in the Bible that we so often miss. And that is how compassionate and indignant God is when it comes to four kinds of people: the widows, the orphans, the poor and the strangers. The Bible is full of exhortations and warnings that we should treat rightly these groups of people. In other words, make sure that we provide justice for them. Isaiah 58 is a great example of that.

That’s why working in Shutka with the Roma kids and teenagers we want to remember their situation and do something about it. We want to help them practically and we want to help them understand who they really are and have their dignity as beings created by God. Every Thursday we come together with around 30 kids to play and have fun, but also to worship the Lord together and try to hear what he has to say through the Bible. What he has to say about who they are, that they are beloved children and have a great worth for Him. And for us also.

Our hearts just can’t sit right seeing a child only in his slippers and without socks or in a light sweater without a jacket going around on the biting cold. Seeing all the dirty hands and dirty faces from scavenging through the trash. That’s why cooking a nice dinner and setting the tables for those kids like someone very important is coming should not be something strange, but something normal. Cause the secret is to see the image of God in everyone and treat them like Jesus himself would come to dinner. And beside me are the unsung heroes (Dijana, Ivana, Gricko), or rather, I have the privilege to be beside them. Many times the tears can't stop from showing in our eyes...many dreams, many sighs, many wishes for these kids.

We can talk about changing communities and changing the world but we must start somewhere. So we should dare to start where we are and start small. Many times it won’t be easy and won’t be pretty. But we need to always remember: everyone bears the image of God.

Derrida on love

2011-11-18T21:50:00.004+01:00

One of the first questions one can pose is the question of the difference between the who and the what. Is love the love of someone or the love of some things? Okay, supposing I loved someone. Do I love someone for the absolute singularity of who they are? “I love you because you are you”. Or do I love your qualities, your beauty, your intelligence? Does one love someone, or does love something about someone? The difference between the who and the what at the heart of love, separates the heart.

It is often said that love is the movement of the heart. Does my heart move because I love someone who is an absolute singularity, or because I love the way that someone is? Often, love starts with some type of seduction. One is attracted because the other is like this or like that. Inversely, love is disappointed and dies when one comes to realize the other person doesn’t merit our love. The other person isn’t like this or like that. So at the death of love, it appears that one stops loving another not because of who they are, but because they are such and such. That is to say, the history of love, the heart of love, is divided between the who and the what.

The question of Being - to return to philosophy – because the first question of philosophy is: What is it “to Be?” What is being? The question of Being is itself always already divided between who and what. Is “Being” someone or some thing? I speak of it abstractly, but I think that whoever starts to love, is in love, or stops loving, is caught between this division of the who and the what. One wants to be true to someone – singularly, irreplaceably – and one perceives that this someone isn’t x or y. They didn’t have the qualities, properties, the images, that I thought I’d loved. So fidelity is threatened by the difference between the who and the what.

(This excerpt is taken from the film about Jacques Derrida called "Derrida".)

Поезија (4 песни)

2011-09-23T20:01:00.004+01:00

Пророк

Најпрво ја налепувам брадата на пророк.

Потоа ја облекувам туниката и се наметнувам со наметка.

Половината ја препашувам со појас.

На нозете имам сандали, а во раката стап.

Можеби така некој ќе слушне што имам да кажам,

можеби така на некој ќе му е гајле.

Музите се гулаб

Музите не се ниту крава, ниту слон,

ниту каков било влекач

тие не се ни јазовец ни волк,

ни златно теле. (Ниту жени се).

Тие се гулаб

штотуку прелетан над вжарен вулкан

блага сончевина има во крилјата негови,

молкот на исихастот е воздухот што го сече.

Тие се гулаб

што како низ звучен ѕид преминува

од онаа страна на видливото,

песната на ангелите му пулсира во срцето.

Кога слетува над тебе,

иако мирен,

трепериш.

Срам

Ноќва посакав темни облаци

да ја покријат месечината,

ангелска рака да ги распара

и да ги наполнат кофите и легените

на мојата душа.

Ноќва ја повлеков завесата

и се мушнав во кревет

со свртен грб како налутено дете

покриен со чаршафот на несигурноста.

Како прељубник што и свртел грб

на својата верна придружничка,

ноќва се срамам од месечината.

Душата

Душата ми е

кајче што се лула

ту нежно, ту посилно

во рацете на езерските далги

и одразот на небото врз лицето на водата.

Душата ми е

галеб што лута

место за починка што бара

дури ветерот го крева и спушта

во потрага по брод, по карпа.

И ако, нека се лула и нека лета

нека се спушта и крева,

се дури знам дека има воздух, дека има вода

се дури знам дека е во Тебе, во љубовта Твоја.

Никола Маџиров (5 песни)

2011-09-21T21:33:00.004+01:00

Со тоа дека Никола Маџиров е најдобар поет од новата генерација македонски поети ќе се согласат повеќе луѓе и љубители на поезијата. Тука направив мал избор од 5 песни од неговата збирка 'Преместен камен'.

Сенките не одминуваат

Еден ден ќе се сретнеме,

како бротче од хартија и

лубеница што се лади во реката.

Немирот на светот ќе

биде со нас. Со дланките

ќе го помрачиме сонцето и со фенер

ќе се доближуваме.

Еден ден ветрот нема

да го промени правецот.

Брезата ќе испрати лисја

во нашите чевли пред прагот.

Волците ќе тргнат по

нашата невиност.

Пеперутките ќе го остават

својот прав врз нашите образи.

Една старица секое утро

ќе раскажува за нас во чекалната.

И ова што го кажувам е

веќе кажано: го чекаме ветрот

како две знамиња на граничен премин.

Еден ден сите сенки

ќе не одминат.

Градовите што не ни припаѓаат

Во туѓите градови

мислите спокојно скитаат како гробови

на заборавени циркузанти,

кучињата лаат на контејнерите и

снегулките што паѓаат во нив.

Во туѓите градови неприметни сме

како кристален ангел заклучен во

непроветрена витрина, како втор земјотрес

кој само го разместува веќе уништеното.

По нас

Еден ден некој ќе ги здипли нашите ќебиња

и ќе ги прати на хемиско чистење

од нив да го истрие и последното зрнце сол,

ќе ги отвори нашите писма и ќе ги реди по датуми

наместо по исчитаност.

Еден ден некој ќе го размести мебелот во собата

како шаховски фигури на почеток од нова игра,

ќе ја отвори старата кутија за чевли

во која ги чуваме паднатите копчиња од пижамите,

недотрошените батерии и гладта.

Еден ден ќе ни се врати болката во 'рбетот

од тежината на хотелските клучеви и

сомнежот со кој рецепционерот ни го подава

далечинскиот управувач.

Туѓите сожалувања ќе тргнат по нас

како месечина по заталкано дете.

Откривање

Веќе одамна никому не припаѓам

како паричка падната од работ на стара икона.

Расфрлен сум меѓу строгите наследства и завети

над ролетните на спуштените судбини.

Историјата е првата граница што треба да ја поминам,

го чекам гласот одвоен од созвучјето на послушноста

за мојата далечност што ќе извести.

Како бронзен споменик под плоштадот од ѕвезди сум

врз кој птиците ги вежбаат химните на надеж,

како пердув залепен врз лушпа од јајце се откривам,

за прерано заминување кој раскажува и

новиот живот што го навестува.

Домот секој ден

под шаторот на светот тајно ми се менува,

само детството е како мед

што не допушта туѓи траги во себе.

Тишина

Не постои тишина во светот.

Монасите неа ја измислиле

секој ден да ги слушаат коњите и

падот на пердувите од крилјата.

"The Sound And The Fury" by William Faulkner

2011-09-09T20:54:00.015+01:00

I almost never write on my blog about books that I have read. I remember that the last time I did that was after reading Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn’s “In The First Circle”, a wonderfully written novel. This time I want to write about a book by an American author called William Faulkner, a nobel-winning author writing mainly about the normal people of America's south. The first of his books that I read was “As I Lay Dying” a book telling a story of the death of a woman and the process in which the family tries to take her body to another town to be buried. The whole book is written through a mix of narratives spoken by different members of the family and friends. The whole story developes through the eyes of each of the speakers. Really well thought and well written.

This time I want to write few words about Faulkner’s fourth novel called “The Sound and The Fury” written before “As I lay dying”. It is probably one of the most complex novels in literature and is mostly written in the “stream of consciousness” style mostly used or you can say even invented by James Joyce. Basically, the book doesn’t tell a linear story but describes the dissolution of an aristocratic southern family through four narrators.

The book is divided in four parts, each narrated by a different member of the family (3 brothers), except the last part which is narrated by a third person omniscient point of view.

The first part is written by Benjy, a retarded autistic son in the family, writing which is characterized by short and simple sentences. His part happenes in one day but what is especially hard to follow and confusing is that the story goes back to three parts of his life, all the time shifting swiftly from when he was a little child to the present when he is in his thirties and then when he was a teenager.

The second part is written by his brother called Quentin, a young man studying at Harvard who commits suicide at the end. He is the hope of the family, obsessed with the dignity and chastity of his beloved sister who ends up pregnant, left by the man and running away and marrying someone else. His inner struggle leads him up to drowning in to a river. His part is also hard to follow as he jumps back and forth between events from the past and the present day.

The third part is written by Jason, Benjy’s and Quentin’s brother, a hard working, “in your face”, greedy and cynical man. He is the only son which their hypochondriac mom loves and who takes care of the family after his sister runs away and his brother commits suicide. As part of the family we also see Quentina, the child that his sister Caddy has left and who now is a seventeen year old girl. Jason misuses and steals the money that Caddy is sending for her daughter thus profiting from her predicament.

The fourth and the last part is focusing mainly on Dilsey, a black woman among the servants, responsible for running the household. Her grandson Luster looks after Benjy, the retarded son. In the end of the story, we see Quentina finding all the checks that her mom has sent, stealing them from her uncle Jason’s room and running away with a guy from the traveling circus.

What makes this book so complex and good is Faulkner’s mastery to get behind a character and portray it so authentically. All four narrations happen in four single and separate days. Benjy’s, Jason’s and Dilsey’s parts happen in 3 consequent days in 1928 and Quentin’s part happenes in 1910. Through 4 days and a lot of going back and forth Faulkner is wonderfully weaving a story in a way in which only few writers have been able to do. That is probably why this book has been studied and analyzed so much by scholars and is one very fine piece of literature.

The Invisible

2011-09-01T20:02:00.000+01:00

Midnight had come and gone to the city crouching around a sprawling lake. The moon had tiptoed behind the mountain's back and spilled a bucket of light down the length of its spine. The summer night exhaled through open windows and onto people comfortably stretched out in their beds, painting the scene with sound. The garbage truck groaned into being from around the corner, ponderous and slow, like some huge, panting animal. It grew steadily louder until it reached the dumpsters huddled together near the five-story apartment building. It invited a carnival of noises. Its engine growled in a rasping voice, the dumpsters, brimming with garbage complained against being dragged so roughly, clanged on metal with metal as they were fastened on hooks, rattled with glass bottles as they regurgitated their insides into the truck. The hydraulics hissed in an urgent exhalation. No human voices were heard. The garbage men had either spent their words for the day, or else the night shift had robbed them of any desire to make conversation, projecting themselves already in bed, fast asleep like the people behind the windows. The entire scene was over as soon as it had begun. This nocturnal parade of sounds lasted no more than two minutes. The dumpsters were emptied and put back in their places. The bits of garbage that had fallen out on the street were carefully collected and fed to the ever-hungry maw of the truck, and with a loud snarl it lumbered towards the adjacent alley. Silence reclined over the landscape again, as if into an old, familiar hammock. The moon kept shining, unflinchingly, onto the spine of the mountain. The people, oblivious, slept on in their comfy beds. One thing however, clung to the air. The insults that P., his mind engulfed in alcoholic vapours, had flung into his wife's face like a slap in front of their two small children. His threats of leaving her, that it's only a matter of time, that he cannot stand her and that he's an idiot for putting up with her. This stain went unnoticed by the garbage men. And even if it had, they could never wash it clean.

Excellent translation by Ivan Petrovski

Def(y)ine normal

2011-08-24T14:12:00.003+01:00

“Hey, you should come down there later!” we are shouting and laughing as we drive. “I will, I will come for her” shouts back the guy beside the road that’s selling stuff. We laugh again. The sun is burning. People are walking in the middle of the street. “I will park the car here in this little shade”. Huh, it’s so hot. The huge trash nearby is burning. Nothing new. “Alek! Alek!” Kids are approaching me, jumping through the dry and thorny grass. Can’t see them clearly from the scorching sun. Hugs, shouts, loud. “Watch out for the thorns!” “Whatever happened to the water pump? We have no water. If we would, we could take the hose and just sprinkle all around the playground”. We hear the sound of the tall dry grass burning still far from us. Taller than us. One of the kids is riding a horse. Actually it’s a human horse. Every now and then there are small explosions in the burning trash. What can that be? Some kind of bottles under pressure? “Hey, who wants water?” The smell is getting worst and the wind is blowing dark clouds our way smelling of burning plastic. “If you don’t give him the ball I’ll take it away!” “Don’t you think we should call the fire brigade? What’s their number?” “I know” a confident little voice says. 192!” “No, that’s the police!” A bit later a truck comes and they start putting down the fire. “Come on guys, let’s go, it just smells too bad”. We are on the way. The wind is blowing. Suddenly it’s 3 trucks. Suddenly the fire is going wild just 2 or 3 meters from our playground. Not the playground! Thousands of shiny drops are attacking the flames. The battle of the elements. I hope the water wins this time. Little bit later the bottle of water is moving among the thirsty firemen. Phew! That was close. Back in to the car, my clothes reek of smoke but I’m happy. “Honey, guess what happened today?” “What? A normal day in Shutka?” “Depends how you define normal”.

Невидливото

2011-08-10T12:47:00.000+01:00

Беше некаде после полноќ во градот крај големото езеро. Месечината веќе одамна се имаше искраднато од зад грбот на планината и сега го осветлуваше нејзиниот срт по целата должина. Здивот на летната ноќ влегуваше низ отворените прозорци зад кои повеќето луѓе удобно беа сместени во нивните кревети па сцената се одвиваше во областа на слухот. Ѓубреџискиот камион најпрво се слушна додека вртеше зад аголот, тежок и бавен како забревтано животно. Потоа стануваше се погласен сè дури не застана покрај контејнерите пред петокатницата. Тука почна карневал од звуци. Грубото брчење на моторот, влечењето на полните контејнери, звукот на удар на метал со метал додека ги закачуваа на куките, ѕвецкањето на шишиња додека содржината се истураше во утробата на камионот, шиштењето на компресијата што ја издишуваше истиот. Човечки гласови не се слушаа. Ѓубреџиите или веќе си имаа кажано се што имаше да се каже за тој ден, или ноќната смена им ја крадеше желбата за разговор и си замислуваа како се во нивните кревети и мирно спијат како луѓето зад прозорците. Целата сцена, целата ноќна парада од звуци не траеше повеќе од две минути. Контејнерите беа испразнети и вратени на место. Ситното ѓубре што се имаше претурено беше грижливо изметено и сместено во секогаш гладната уста на камионот кој повторно гласно за’ржа и бавно се придвижи кон соседната уличка. Тишината повторно се спушти како во удобна лежалка и се олабави. Месечината и понатаму го осветлуваше грбот на планината додека луѓето и понатаму лежеа во своите кревети. Само едно нешто остана да виси во воздухот. Навредите што претходно истиот ден, на истото место, П. поднапиен и ги плесна в лице на својата жена пред нивните две мали деца. Дека е само прашање на време кога ќе ја остави, дека не може да ја поднесе и е глуп што ја трпи. Тоа ѓубреџиите не го видоа, а и да го видоа не ќе можеа да го исчистат.

Norway: A surprising reaction

2011-07-26T14:44:00.008+01:00

A tragedy happened in Norway few days ago when a 32 year old Norwegian put a bomb in front of the government in Oslo that killed 7 people and then went to a small island 30 km from Oslo and killed around 70 young people gathered for a camp. This kind of attacks happen all around the world but somehow it's stronger when you have friends in a place that has been attacked in this kind of way.

I don't want to go through the reasons why that guy did the attack but say something about what really surprised me and that was the reaction of the norwegian people. Watching CNN just an hour or two after the attack and hearing the mayor of Oslo talking about how people should stay together, don't panic and surround themselves with good friends was really something different, a tone in his voice which was rather calm and sober.

And yesterday 150.000 people gathered in Oslo for the rose ceremony to mourn and grieve the death of the people that were killed in the attacks. Everyone held flowers sending the message that Norway will continue to be a free and open country, believing in democracy and refusing to react with hate. I don't know about you but I find that surprising.

This is what a german newspaper said: "Even in their deepest sorrow the Norwegians don't get hysterical. They resist the hate. It is amazing to see how politicians and the whole country reacts. They are sad to the deepest thread of their souls. They cry in...dignity. But nobody swears to take revenge. Instead they want even more humanity and democracy. That is one of the most remarkable strengths of that little country".

And there is just one more thing that came to my mind after the attacks. There is no perfect country on earth. No country where you earn a lot of money, live a peaceful life and enjoy perfect safety.

Amy Winehouse: A Star and a Victim

2011-07-24T10:04:00.004+01:00

Amy Winehouse was found dead yesterday. Probably from overdose and that doesn't come as a surprise to anyone. About her talent, her exquisite voice, her great songs there is no need to talk. The word that best describes all this is, "Sad".

Everyone is responsible for their behavior and choices and she had hers. She didn't drink or take drugs cause someone forced her to do that, that's clear. She wanted to sing and as she said she didn't ask to be famous. But when you are famous, when people like you and when you make lots of money from it, you kind of get hooked to it.

I remember thinking many times about her situation and feeling sorry for her. Sorry because she was a victim. Victim of the music industry, of the age of consumerism, where music can't be enjoyed simply for what it is but must be connected to money, profit, contracts, touring...How can you not feel sorry when she comes out on the stage and can hardly stand on her feet but the band is playing, she must sing, "the show must go on", as Freddie Mercury sang. Why nobody in the band and the people around her said "we are not going to continue to do this until you fix yourself?"

People would go to someones concerts to get what they want (enjoyment, high) and would not give a damn for the musician as a person. That's what we are like. And that's sad also.

Seeds of the future

2011-07-10T21:02:00.002+01:00

Reading "Jesus and the nonviolent revolution" by Andre Trocme, I was really amazed by this short paragraph that explains the essence of Jesus' mission in a beautiful way.

"Jesus overcomes the world not by condemning it, but by saving it. He does not offer us an abstract kingdom of ideas, but redemptive actions of healing and liberation. Jesus came from God and returned to God, but only after having planted the seeds of the future: the kingdom on this earth. And Jesus the Messiah will return, because his final aim is to save the entire cosmos. There will be redemption, not just for individuals, but for the whole world. His kingdom will come fully to the earth, just as it is in heaven".

Не можеш да ја украдеш месечината

2011-07-01T22:24:00.005+01:00

Рјокан, зенистички учител, живеел наједноставен живот во мала колиба на подножјето на планината. Една вечер во колибата влегол еден крадец, само за да се увери дека во неа нема ништо што би можело да се украде.

Рјокан се вратил и го фатил на дело. "Сигурно долго си патувал за да дојдеш кај мене", му рекол на својот непоканет гостин, "затоа не би било добро да си заминеш со празни раце. Те молам, дозволи ми барем да ти ги подарам своите алишта".

Крадецот се зачудил. Ги зграпчил алиштата и избегал.

Рјокан седел гол гледајќи ја месечината. "Кутриот човек", помислил во себе, "о, да можев, ќе му ја подарев оваа прекрасна месечина".

(Преземено од "101 зен приказна")

"Осло" + "Ибица"

2011-06-24T23:52:00.004+01:00

Инспириран од расказот "Осло" на Тони Попов, седнав и го напишав расказот "Ибица" што одамна се токмев да го напишам. Намерно ги ставам еден по друг затоа што расказот го пишував како некаква паралелна верзија на расказот на Тони.

Осло (Тони Попов)

На улицата Кирке Гате во Осло ноќе има проститутки од целиот свет. Бели, црни, жолти, стари, млади, грди, убави. Може сешто да се види. На таа улица, 6 години по ред, услужува клиенти дваесет и седум годишната Маријама Дарбо од Гамбија. За ова време додека е на улица, запознала стотици луѓе. Некои од нив се навистина фини, како на пример, адвокатот Бјорн Колбир. Некои се грозни, како оној Грис кој грофта како свиња кога лежи врз неа и многу се поти. Или човекот со лузна на кого не му го знае името, кој постојано ја пцуе. Најчуден меѓу нив е Тангбранд, пасторот на една малечка црква во близина. Тој и плаќа само за да зборува со неа и секогаш и носи топол чај во термос. Само тој од сите тие луѓе знае дека таа е од селото Кер Аулди, дека има болни татко и мајка, три помали сестри и едно братче, на кои Маријама им испраќа пари. И само тој (иако таа тоа не го знае) секогаш кога му се моли на Господ за неа, плаче.

Ибица (Алек Маџаровски)

Веќе три години проповедникот Брајан Хисли и неговото семејство живееја на островот Ибица. “Господ ни даде посебно место во срцата за овој остров”, велеше тој кога ќе го прашаа зошто одлучија да се преселат токму таму. Но, неговиот пристап беше поинаков. Наместо да проповеда во некоја црква, тој ноќите ги минуваше по улиците на Сан Антонио обидувајќи се да им помогне на пијаните млади туристи да си го најдат хотелот или сместувањето, разговарајќи за животот и за верата со секој што беше расположен за тоа. Речиси секогаш имаше неколку доброволци што беа дојдени на Ибица да му помогнат во неговата работа. Со неговата жена Стејси одеа на смени. Една ноќ тој остануваше дома со децата додека жена му и тимот одеа низ улиците, додека другата ноќ дома остануваше таа. На улиците преполни со пијани Англичани и млади од целиот свет, дојдени на островот желни за разврат и забава, каде се мешаа звуците од ноќните клубови и баровите, тие се среќаваа со разни луѓе. На пример, таму го запознаа Мајкл од Глостер, Англија, чија девојка го остави само после два дена поминати на островот и кој не можејќи да стои на нозе со пиво во раката им раскажуваше како неговиот живот нема повеќе смисла и дека размислувал за самоубиство. Таму го запознаа и Карл од Јамајка, кој работеше во еден бар а и растураше дрога, не можејќи да се врати дома. Или пак Карен од Ирска што не можеше да престане да плаче не знаејќи да објасни зошто и која подоцна им го исповрати целото задно седиште на колата.

Таа вечер тимот отиде на една од плажите каде што работеа африканските проститутки. Плажата беше настрана од другите плажи во центарот на градот, како и меѓу проститутките да имаше расна поделба, нешто што всушност беше точно. Монифа, беше дваесет и седум годишна девојка од Нигерија што веќе цела година работеше на Ибица давајќи услуги на таа изолирана плажа. Додека стоеја заедно со Оморосе, уште една девојка од Нигерија, забележаа како им се приближува еден бел средновечен маж. Во раката држеше грст бели рози. Кога им се приближи на неколку чекори погледите им се сретнаа. Во очите на Монифа немаше ниту флерт, ниту одглумена страст, туку само тажна празнина. Веќе ги делеше помалку од еден метар кога човекот неспретно зема една од розите и ја подаде на Монифа и со несигурен глас и рече, “Убава и скапоцена си во Божјите очи”. За момент сè беше тивко. Само малите бранчиња тивко удираа по брегот а месечината како нем сведок висеше на летното небо. Месечината беше таа што ги осветли солзите, солзите што се тркалаа по лицето на Монифа и солзите што се тркалаа по лицето на Брајан.

Државата го уби или не?

2011-06-08T07:49:00.004+01:00

Се уште е актуелен случајот со убиеното момче кое во неделата вечер, додека траеше прославата на политичката партија што победи на изборите, беше претепано до смрт на самиот плоштад од страна на вработен во МВР. Уште следниот ден почнаа протести на улиците против бруталноста на полицијата и за откривање на сторителот. Разгледувајќи ја целата ситуација не можам а да не ги споменам следниве работи:

1. Зошто МВР цели 24 часа и повеќе одрекуваше дека станува збор за убиство и се обидуваше да го прикрие случајот? Кога рекоа дека било пријавено мртво момче беше речено дека кај него немало траги на насилство (каква иронија). Зарем е можно МВР да не знае за што станало збор а таму имало очевидци што го виделе целиот настан? Дури потоа, кога се изврши медиумски притисок и кога почнаа протестите и кога се пријавил сторителот рекоа дека ќе бидат преземени соодветни мерки. Она што ме интересира е следново: Дали ако не се извршеше притисок ќе се прикриеше целата работа?

2. Дали државата го уби детето или не? Од една страна, државата секако дека не го уби детето, зашто се работи за поединец (вработен во МВР) што убил некого како изолиран случај. Но од друга страна, јас ли го вработив тој човек или државата? Така што, држвата и МВР да поминат без апсолутно никаква одговорност би било нонсенс. Работодавецот на тој човек мора да сноси морална одговорност.

3. Она што мислам дека предизвика да се вжешти атмосферата меѓу младите е фактот што вакви случаи (секако не толку екстремни што завршиле со смрт) се имаат случувано многу пати кога припадниците на алфите се имаат однесувано "несоодветно" па така тоа незадоволство се таложи веќе неколку години. Свесни сме за профилот на тие луѓе и за нивното однесување па кога се случи последново реакцијата беше, "До кога?!! Што е следно?!" Да не зборуваме и за стравот од полицијата наследен од времето на социјализмот.

4. Колку заслепен треба да си од политичките фактори во земјава за веднаш после почнувањето на протестите да кажеш дека имаат политичка позадина? Младо момче било ноншалантно претепано и убиено од припадник на полицијата. Дали треба да сум член на партија за да се разгневам и протестирам?

Три минијатури

2011-05-26T22:32:00.000+01:00

Никој ниту да праша

Имаше две грицкалки за нокти, една пена за бричење, едно кутивче неотворени жилети, три ролни селотејп, два шпила карти во пластична кутија, една тубичка суперлепак и две батерии од еден и пол волт врз картонската кутија зад која на земја седеше брадосан стар човек и гледаше неодредено во луѓето што минуваа. Но никој ниту да застане, никој ниту да праша.

Однатре

Велат дека тоа што поларната мечка ќе го улови и ќе го изеде за време на пролетта, треба да и трае сè до следната пролет. И јас како неа, ова априлско утро, ги отворам сите сетила и лакомо ја впивам пролетта во себе, со надеж дека на зима ќе раззеленам...однатре.

Изговор

“Ќе одам да го фрлам ѓубрето” реков, како изговор да излезам и да ја помирисам расцутената праска.

Am I the brother of the lost son?

2011-05-23T21:20:00.006+01:00

Yesterday I preached about the story of the prodigal son from Luke 15. Two days ago when I wrote on facebook that I will speak about that someone said (I think my finish friend Laura) that I should post it on my blog so others can enjoy it.

A short version of what I said would go something like this...

Almost everyone that reads the Bible or has read it at least ones knows the story of the Prodigal Son. How a father has two sons and the younger one asks for his part of the inheritance, he gets it and then goes and spends it. After some time he is hungry, lonely and devastated and decides to go back to his fathers house. He comes back wanting to be just a slave but the father receives him as his son and puts on him new clothes, he gives him a ring which means that he restores his sonship and throws a big party (with lots of meat).

The older son, who has been working on the field, coming back home hears the joyful sounds and is confused. He is informed that his father is throwing a party because his brother is back. Then he gets angry and doesn't want to join the party. His father comes to him and asks him what's the matter. The older son says that he is working like crazy all the time and he never got a treatment like this. Then the father says something very important, which is crucial to our story. He says, "My son, you are together with me all the time and everything I have is yours".

First, the older brother thought that the father was not fair. That he was not treating them equally. But if we think little bit deeper and if we compare the father with the Father God (something which is obvious in this story), then we will come to the conclusion that God's grace is not fair, that God's love is not fair cause it gives us generously something that we don't deserve. So if we have been given grace and love we shouldn't be angry when that same love and grace are extended to other people. Something which is not easy cause I felt for the older brother many times when I would read the story. :)

Second, he said that he is working like crazy and that he never did anything wrong towards his father. We have a picture of a obedient, hard-working, respectful, good guy. And that is ok. It's great to be someone like that. But his problem was his picture of his father. He lived in the same house with his dad but he still saw him as a slave master. (But his dad was definitely not a slave master and a controlling person cause when the younger son asked for his inheritance he didn't say no which speaks something about him).

My point is this. The way we see God will determine the way we will live. If we see him as a slave master we will always unconsciously try to work hard to please him. We will think that we suffer and work hard for him, never asking for a "party", trying to be nice people, always positive and ready to help. We can do all those things and still not be happy and fulfilled. When we understand that God takes pleasure in us even before we do anything for him then we are free to enjoy God and enjoy life. (Even before Jesus did a single miracle the Lord said, "This is my beloved Son and I really like him"). I think that in that "everything I have is yours" there is not only a material provision but a quality of life, a life of freedom and joyous participation.

One question that we can all ask ourselves is this, "Do I enjoy life? Am I excited for being alive and serving God?"

I hope that this makes sense and I pray that everyone of us will understand that "all I have is yours". Amen.

p.s. While looking for some photos to put with the post I found this wonderful poem called The Second Prodigal.

He was lost too,

although he could not see it,

for he had stayed at home, was

loyal, hard working,

steady...

but lost.

Trying all the time

to prove himsel,

he put in long hours,

denied himself

all pleasures,

lost himself in toil

and busyness.

He was lost,

but somehow he didn't know

that he had

cut himself off .

Our relationship suffered.

I longed for him

to be home.

He was as lost as his brother

a second prodigal,

upright and clean living,

but lost,

so consumed with doing,

that he forgot

how to be

my son.

...and I am still waiting

for him to come home....

is this you??

Someone to hate

2011-05-02T22:46:00.002+01:00

Today, the whole world is echoing with the news that Osama bin Laden is dead. And there are thousands americans celebrating on the streets. I'm not interested in politics and I don't want to be pro or against but that makes me think.

When 9/11 happened there were few thousand people killed in the attack and that is sad. It's sad when anybody dies. And then we all know that the war against terrorism began and so on. It was such a big thing. It was said that Osama was the guy responsible for that which is probably true. It's good for the people to have someone that they can blame, someone that they can hate, right?

But my question is this. Do you know how many kids will die in Africa today because of starvation and lack of medicine and nobody makes a big deal out of it? Do you know how many kids were abducted and turned into killers in Uganda and other african countries and nobody cares? Do you know how many kids are forced to child labour and nobody gives a damn about it? And we can do something about this. But we don't want to.

Human lives are human lives. We are all equal and there are no first class world citizens and second class world citizens. In the eyes of God we are all the same. So seeing people celebrating the death of the "bad guy" who is a threat to their comfortable life and rich provision of oil makes me sick.

Без душа (Томас Бернхард)

2011-05-01T19:54:00.004+01:00

Се додека лекарите во болницата се интересираат само за телата, а не за душата за која очигледно не знаат ама баш ништо, болниците ќе мораме да ги нарекуваме не само институции на јавното право, туку и институции на јавното убиство, а лекарите и нивни соучесници. Кога телото на некој самостоен научник од Отнанг кај Хаусбрук, кој бил упатен во болница поради некоја таканаречена необичност, му било целосно прегледано, тој, како што напишал во писмото до стручното медицинско списание Лекар, прашал: "а душата?", на што лекарот, кој го прегледувал телото му одговорил: "бидете мирен!"

We have a Father

2011-04-25T20:47:00.003+01:00

I write this mainly for my friends from Glasnost but anyone is welcomed to read it. I think that it is both relevant and important at this time. I took the text from a book called "The Healing Path: Overcoming The Wounds Of Slavery And Orphanhood" by Robin Pasley. Probably it will be followed up by few more texts from the same book.

"Orphanhood entered our lives in two ways in the Garden of Eden. No only was the enemy hoping to bring a physical and spiritual separation from the Father through Eve's sin of disobedience, but he also intended to plant the seeds of doubt about the character and nature of God into the mind of all human kind to come. When we ask, "does God have a place for me?", we unearth this doubt of God's character.

Think about it. We all struggle at one level or another to believe that God is really good to us and that he really approves of us, don't we? We also struggle to really believe we have a Father who loves us unconditionally - that is, regardless of our failures. If we have ever attended a church service we've probably heard that God loves us, and most of us would say we like the idea, but we still have trouble living like he loves us. This struggle can pursue us even after we have decided to follow Jesus and receive his love for us. Even as believers we still act as though we may have to go out and scratch and fight and kick our way to a place of accomplishment in order to be noticed and have any secure place in this world. This is the orphan spirit at work inside of us.

When we have not lived into the truth that we are loved and accepted unconditionally, we will reach out for other kinds of acceptance. This deep cry for a place in the world transforms itself into an external need to be received and embraced by others in order to feel like somebody. This need, when allowed to flourish in us, becomes what we call the "fear of man".

The fear of man is in contrast to the fear of the Lord. When we say "fear" we are not talking about terror, we are talking about respect. We respect the edge of a high building not because the edge of the building is terrifying, but because if we walk past the edge we will be terrified at the consequences. The fear of God is like this. We don't fear him because he is terrifying - in fact, we know him as pure Love - but we do fear him because of the consequences of living past the edge of his pleasure and approval".

I belong to the world

2011-04-02T22:24:00.006+01:00

The other day, on National Geographic, I somehow stumbled upon a show called "Long way down" where Ewan McGregor and another guy travel on bikes from Scotland all the way down to Cape Town, South Africa. I must say that I was captivated by the show. Now I'm in the middle of watching the six episodes and I enjoy it so much. Just to be able to travel and explore, learn, meet people, experience life firsthand I think it's amazing. The landscapes, the history, the people, the nature, the adventure...

All that is great, but there is one thing in particular that is very interesting to me. Driving through Sudan, I think, they met this english guy riding a bicycle through the wilderness/dessert who said that he left England 13 years ago and has crossed the Atlantic with a paddleboat, crossed America on rollerblades and now is cycling through Africa. Later they met another couple who have been on the road for 9 years, been almost all around the world. Later still, they met this young british guy who is traveling alone from Cape Town all the way through Africa. Last summer in Ohrid we met an austrian guy who cycled from Austria and was on his way to Greece. He told me that on the road he met with two more guys. One of them was traveling from England to Istanbul and the other guy from Portugal to Vietnam, a trip that should take him 3 years.

Now, we can say that these people are crazy and maybe irresponsible, that instead of building a career they are just playing games. Some people will admire them and say that's great but it's not for them. Some might say that you have to be an adventurist by nature and that they are just pursuing their passions, which is great.

First of all, something deep in me admires these people. There is no doubt that they are adventurists but I think that there is something more to that. At least that is what I think. What if this people revolt and rebel by traveling. What if they have sensed deep inside that they are created for something more than just an urban existence, living in concrete jungles, consumed by consumerism, shallow relationships and pretending. They don't have to have that all figured out but they are still doing it.

And there is also the urge to get to know and experience the world. To observe and to experience the creation. I'm thinking a lot about that lately and I can say that that is not vanity, that is nothing sinful, provided that you have your life centered on the Divine Center.

That is why I'm not ashamed to say that I belong to the world. The world that the Creator didn't despise and will one day redeem. I belong to the human race for whom He gave the best he had.

madzar32@hotmail.com (a short story)

2011-03-18T19:35:00.005+01:00

More than ten years ago, I think it was the winter of '98, when the global network was still into its childhood years, and far from the 'peeping tom' years that followed, I opened an e-mail address. Actually, my friend M. that worked in an internet-cafe opened it for me. "Try with madzar" I told him, "because of the surname". "It's busy" answered M. after checking on the computer. "Is madzar32 ok?" he said. "It's all right" I told him without even thinking.

Now, all that would have been long forgotten and the e-mail address would have drown into the sea of zeros and ones if I deleted it, but I didn't. And now, especially now, something is intriguing me. The number 32. You ask why. How can a two digit number upset me. What is so threatening in that number? Actually there is. Because as I write this, there are just two hours left till my 32 birthday and that little detail, that worthless number doesn't give me peace. All kinds of scenarios are running through my head. Is there any meaning to the number? Can it be that my friend M. was led by an unseen force, a whisper in his ears to choose that number? Is something bad going to happen, an accident perhaps?

* * *

The night is cold and the sky sprinkles light snowflakes that hesitantly fall to the ground before they are gone forever. (Maybe they hesitate and fall sadly cause there is no one to watch them, no one to be amazed by them). The clock on my lap-top shows 00:41. That means that it's already my 33rd birthday and I'm still alive. Now I can peacefully write the last sentence of this short story, close my lap-top and go to bed.

sleeping.little.face.

2011-03-16T22:59:00.004+01:00

Meditating on life while watching the face of your sleeping child. So comforting...so hopeful...

Dancing with the Bible in her hands

2011-03-10T23:35:00.003+01:00

It takes just few seconds of the hip-hop and R'nB beats and the bodies start to move. Immediately the rhythm that flows through these kids veins starts to pump and express itself in movements. And there, among everyone, is this tiny dark-skinned girl, almost half the size of everyone else. Dressed in a cute violet Nike outfit she is moving like a professional break-dancer stealing our attention and smiles. She is shining, all carefree and alive. When we watch her dance we become alive too. Someone gave her a Bible with pictures. And she is dancing with the Bible in her hands. What is this girl made of? Dancing like this. The night is cold and the night is dark. The future is much like the night. But she is dancing. With the Bible in her hands.

No matter what they do, your kids will always be your kids. You will always love them. So make space, my heart, make space for many kids! Spread your wings and receive them. Don't complain of the smelly kids, don't complain of the loud and wild kids. Don't look down on them, don't get proud my heart. And let mercy and love flow like a river. Let them flow like a great flood from our hearts. Let the love of our Perfect Parent come among us. Cause we are dirty, and we are wild, and we are smelly, but he loves us. Let the love and the kingdom of our Daddy come! And we will dance, right here, in the trash, we will dance, with Bibles in our hands...

September 8, 1960. Nativity of Blessed Virgin

2011-03-07T09:37:00.003+01:00

Importance of being able to rethink thoughts that were fundamental to men of other ages, or are fundamental to men in other countries. For me, especially - contemporary Latin America - Greek Patristic period - Mt. Athos - Confucian China - T'ang dynasty - Pre-Socratic Greece.

Despair of ever beginning truly to know and understand, to communicate with these parts and these distances, yet sense of obligation to do so, to live them and combine them in myself, to absorb, to digest, to "remember". Memoria. Have not yet begun. How will I ever begin to appreciate their problems, reformulate the questions they tried to answer? Is it even necessary? Is it sane? For me it is an expression of love for man and for God. An expression without which my contemplative life would be senseless.

To share this with my own contemporaries.

Thomas Merton wrote these words in his diary 50 years ago but it's like describing my heart today.

Good world/Bad world

2011-01-15T19:04:00.004+01:00

More or less, everyone wants a better world. I think that even the Christians (at least I’m qualified to talk about them) who most of them believe in going to a better place one day and to a certain degree despise this world, still, maybe even unconsciously, crave for a better world here and now. A world where things are as they should be, with meaningful relationships, with peace and harmony, where beauty surrounds us and we enjoy it to the full. But faced with the reality of the world, it takes just few minutes to get disillusioned and discouraged. You immediately want to give up on it. Even if I have to, how can I change so messed up a world? I’m fighting to survive and doing my best not to hate the people around me, people (victims) stuck in the system of injustice and not very different than me. Not to hate the dark side of human existence (can I call it sin?)

Most of us won’t be presidents of countries and in a position to decide about huge issues of environment, ecology, economics, war and things like that. But the question is, do only those kind of people decide where the world is going? Do I have a part to play in changing the world? When I was a kid, I remember watching those coca-cola commercials with their “the whole world” feeling, with all kinds of faces and people, and I felt for the world, I had a vision that the world can be changed, honestly. Maybe it sounds foolish, but that’s how I felt.
I think that everyone, no matter how small he or she feels, has a part in changing the world. Now, I don’t think I can explain well why I think like that, but that’s what I think. My conviction is that every little attempt to do something good, to change the world for good is not going unnoticed by God who created that world. Every smile and kind word to an old lady, every little gift given with love to someone, every tree planted, every poem written (about your beloved, or about someone who fought for justice), every hug given to an orphaned child, every tap on the shoulder to a discouraged friend…they simply can’t go unnoticed. Maybe they will go unnoticed by the people around you, but not by God.

Having this in mind, I decide to go for it. I’m going to believe that I glorify God when I treat his creation (the earth, the people) with respect. I’m going to continue to do small things in spite of what those around me say. If that means collecting my coins for the Roma kids in the “Little Friends” preschool so they can go to the zoo or have a cake for their Christmas party, or give some money for kids and people in a small mountain village in Uganda so they can have blankets or go to school, then I will start there. And the opportunities are many. The point is just not to stay passive knowing that it matters to God.

thinking.talking.writing.

2011-01-11T22:05:00.002+01:00

Probably a week ago I started reading Thomas Merton’s diary, or a selection of his best entries called “The Intimate Merton” (thanks to my finish friend Laura). I must say that he inspires me. He says some things about writing and journaling, which really helped me.

I’m 32 and I want to write. I want to write but I’m fighting a feeling, or a thought, that there is no point in that. In our time, in these years filled with so many voices and thoughts, expressed in all kinds of mediums, who cares about what I have to say. There are smarter people than me in any area of interest. And it's not only that but many times I wonder if it's smarter to remain quiet and just say few but chosen words.

If I try to search myself and find out the real reason why I want to write, it’s not hard to find that I want to write for people to read what I write. Do I want to write so I can get some self-validation from the opinions of others? Sure. I have no false humility about that. But the motives are definitely mixed and can’t be discerned so easily like black and white. Of course there is also a desire to inspire someone, to encourage or challenge someone, to change something with the writing, so not all is egotistic.

There is something else. I feel like I’m good in different things but I’m not a specialist in one. That is a frustrating place to be cause you don’t feel competent in one specific area and that affects your picture about yourself. Even in theology, an area that I love and I’m familiar with, I don’t have a degree or any paper that says I’m a specialist in that. But on second thought I’m not sure if I dislike that position. Maybe if I’m a specialist in only one area that would make life little bit more boring, who knows?

But I’m in my thirties, the melting pot of desires, visions, ideas, motivations, and hopefully the refinement of all those things is successful and I enjoy life in fullness. Not that I’m not enjoying my life now, but I expect a lot of the present frustration to leave as things and motives are refined.

This makes me think of the present moment and living life in the “now” which is another subject and I will write about that in another post.

Masters of war

2011-01-03T22:49:00.001+01:00

This is what Bob Dylan sang in 1963.

Come you masters of war
You that build the big guns
You that build the death planes
You that build all the bombs
You that hide behind walls
You that hide behind desks
I just want you to know
I can see through your masks.

You that never done nothin'
But build to destroy
You play with my world
Like it's your little toy
You put a gun in my hand
And you hide from my eyes
And you turn and run farther
When the fast bullets fly.

Like Judas of old
You lie and deceive
A world war can be won
You want me to believe
But I see through your eyes
And I see through your brain
Like I see through the water
That runs down my drain.

You fasten all the triggers
For the others to fire
Then you set back and watch
When the death count gets higher
You hide in your mansion'
As young people's blood
Flows out of their bodies
And is buried in the mud.

You've thrown the worst fear
That can ever be hurled
Fear to bring children
Into the world
For threatening my baby
Unborn and unnamed
You ain't worth the blood
That runs in your veins.

How much do I know
To talk out of turn
You might say that I'm young
You might say I'm unlearned
But there's one thing I know
Though I'm younger than you
That even Jesus would never
Forgive what you do.

Let me ask you one question
Is your money that good
Will it buy you forgiveness
Do you think that it could
I think you will find
When your death takes its toll
All the money you made
Will never buy back your soul.

And I hope that you die
And your death'll come soon
I will follow your casket
In the pale afternoon
And I'll watch while you're lowered
Down to your deathbed
And I'll stand over your grave

Crossing the line of uncertainty

2010-12-25T21:32:00.003+01:00

As we count the days until this year is over and the next one begins, adding a different number to its end, it brings to surface interesting feelings. At least in me. It's time of holidays, of cozy nights at home with good music and food (for the lucky ones), of family and friends and it's great. But there is this funny feeling that makes me want to stay in this year, like some kind of uncertainty and fear from the future in the face of the next year. Like things will be very different from the morning of the 1st of January, like I will feel alone and insecure. I wonder why is that cause I'm not a person who wants to dwell in the past, but wants to see what the future holds. And not just in a human existentialist manner, but because I know who holds my future and I feel confident in him, namely God. I wonder if it's familiarity, feeling confident in the things that we know, the places, the faces, the voices, the streets, the smells, that makes us feel afraid and threatened by the future. I'm just guessing. I know that this is in the area of feelings and not of fundamental beliefs, but there are so many people that don't look up to the future, that can't see any possible good happening and for them I just offer a humble and small prayer, that the hope will be born in their hearts, Jesus Christ, my Lord and my love.

p.s. Few years ago someone connected my blog to facebook and made it that every post goes directly to facebook as a note and now I don't know how to change it. The point is that my blog is almost like my diary and not everyone would want to read it. But be patient, I will find a way. Peace.

Hope for Dignity

2010-11-25T23:32:00.004+01:00

God gave man dignity by giving him free will, freedom of choice. Through that, He gave him honor and respect. God didn't create humans as numbers, as machines who can think. Humans are not cosmic accidents. He created them with honor. He gave them respect. He gave them to be like him.

The rest of the story we all know. We all know it too well, I would say. We know it by looking at the world we live in. We know it by looking at the faces of the people around us. Those tired eyes, those empty looks. The sadness and despair, the pain of a hope killed. Signs that something went wrong long ago. Perhaps, we know it by looking in the mirror.

And in the attempt to win back their dignity, to gain back their real, their lost self, people fight against each other. They fight physically and they fight mentally. Those who are stronger control the ones that are weaker, thinking that through that they become something special, that they have their dignity. Those who are smarter manipulate the ones that are simpler, not knowing that they are in the same boat. The boat that floats on the river called hopelessness.

But the road to dignity is not the road of achievement. Is not the road of success or people saying good things about you or applauding you. It's the road of honesty. Being honest that you don't have it all together. That you need help. Honest to yourself and honest to God. Then he will start a process, then he will do what he knows how to do best. There is hope for dignity.

"Heaven on Earth, we need it now, I'm sick of all this hangin' around" (U2)

2010-11-15T23:15:00.004+01:00

To hope for a better future in this world - for the poor, the sick, the lonely and depressed, for the slaves, the refugees, the hungry and homeless, for the abused, the paranoid, the downtrodden and despairing, and in fact for the whole wide, wonderful and wounded world - is not something else, something extra, something tacked on to the gospel as an afterthought. And to work for that intermediate hope, the surprising hope that comes forward from God's ultimate future into God's urgent present, is not a distraction from the task of mission and evangelism in the present. It is a central, essential, vital, and life-giving part of it. Mostly, Jesus himself got a hearing from his contemporaries because of what He was doing. They saw him saving people from sickness and death, and they heard Him talking about a salvation, the message for which they had longed, that would go beyond the immediate into the ultimate future. But the two were not unrelated, the present one a mere visual aid of the future, one or a trick to gain peoples attention. The whole point of what Jesus was up to was that he was doing, close up, in the present, what He was promising - long term, in the future. And what He was promising for the future, and doing in that present, was not saving souls for a disembodied eternity but rescuing people from the corruption and decay of the way the world presently is so they could enjoy, already in the present that renewal of creation which is God's ultimate purpose - and so they could thus become colleagues and partners in that large project. (Taken from "Surprised by Hope" by N.T.Wright)

From the desk of the Urban Mystic

2010-11-01T00:05:00.003+01:00

These are just few random things that go through my mind lately. Maybe someone finds something inspiring.

When babies are born they are cool. But as they start growing they steal your heart and you end up loving them more and more. The other night I was putting Nathan to bed and praying for him and asking God for dreams from him when I stopped and wondered. "Who knows what kind of dreams the Lord gives to little children?" Immediately I started thinking, trying to find a theological answer or explanation, but then I thought that I shouldn't, cause only God know that, and whatever it is, it must be beautiful. Why should I try to limit by logic the limitless, colorful and spacious spirit of imagination that flows wherever he wishes.

These are the last days of us being three people family. In a little while (it can be even tonight) another member of our family will arrive. We don't know what's he going to look like, we don't know much about him (almost nothing), but he is welcomed. He is part of the family. Just recently I started walking with Nathan by my side, holding him by the hand, and the feeling is amazing. Or I would rather say quietly fulfilling. And walking with two sons, one at each side...I can't wait.

For a long time I want to write an article about the love that produces new life being the highest love that humans can know and I think I will soon. People might disagree on that one but that is my conviction.

Intentional growth. Organic and spontaneous growth is ok, but there is an element of intentional growth that people need. You can grow by spending time with God, or listening to sermons, or reading the Bible, but you also need other people that will challenge you, that will impart to you. So if you want to change and grow, put some intention to it, find someone, be teachable, be ready to receive, ask questions, be humble, be hungry to learn. And if you think that you know it...I feel sorry for you.

The other day I saw an artistic movie called "Baraka" which portrays the world we live in, and the people in it, without words, just with picture and music. After that I just felt a confirmation that I want to spend the rest of my life helping people to be free and find their lost dignity in God through Jesus Christ. That is my passion, that is my life.

Џејмс Вилијам Хакет за хаику

2010-10-28T19:57:00.004+01:00

Животот е извор на хаику доживувањето. Затоа согледај го овој, сегашниов миг.

Запомни дека хаику е поезија на секојдневието, и дека секојдневието е неговото подрачје.

Внимателно набљудувај ги нештата од природата...ќе ти се откријат невидени чуда.

Идентификувај се (толкувај се преку) со својот субјект, што и да е тоа: Тоа си ти – “Тат твам аси”.

Размислувај во самотија и во спокој за своите белешки за природата.

Не издавај го Качеството на нештата- природата треба да биде предадена токму онаква каква што е.

Изрази го своето чувство преку синтакса природна за англискиот јазик. Не пишувај се во јапонскиот 5, 7, 5 облик, оти тоа на англиски честопати предизвикува подметнување и вештачко дотерување.

Настојувај да пишуваш во три стиха, со приближно седумнаесет слога.

Употребувај само обичен јазик.

Сугерирај, ама погрижи се на читателот да му дадеш доволно, оти хаику што заматува е промашено.

Кога-годе можеш спомени го годишното време, оти тоа додава димензии. Запомни дека годишното време може да биде одредено со предмет или со знаци на песната.

Никогаш не употребувај нејасни алузии – хаику се интуитивни, не се интелектуални.

Не превидувај го хуморот, ама избегнувај обична шега.

Римата и другите поетски средства никогаш не треба да бидат толку очигледни што ќе го засенуваат градивото.

Живодарноста, не убавината, тоа е вистинското својство на хаику.

Никогаш не жртвувај си ја јаснотијата на твојата интуиција за извештаченост: изборот на зборови треба да биде насочуван од значењето.

Читај ја секоја песна на глас, оти незабележаното вештачко дотерување секогаш ќе се чуе.

Имај го на ум советот на Торо – “Поедностави! Поедностави! Поедностави!”

Остани при секоја песна додека не го задоволи она што сакаш да го изразиш.

Запомни го предупредувањето на Р.Х.Блајт дека е хаику прст што покажува кон месечнината, и ако е дланката украсена со скапоцености, веќе не го гледаме она што го покажува прстот.

From "Son of Thunder" to...

2010-10-17T22:55:00.004+01:00

The following is a story about St. John, taken from the church history of Eusebius, and it really touched me when I read it for the first time. It might look long but it's definitely worth reading. The man on the picture is Polycarp, a disciple of St. John and possibly the guy from the story. Read it and tell me what you think.

Listen to a story that is not a story but a true account of John the Apostle preserved in memory. After the tyrant's death (the emperor), he returned from the island of Patmos to Ephesus and used to go, when asked, to the neighboring Gentile districts to appoint bishops, reconcile churches, or ordain someone designated by the Spirit. Arriving at a city near by (Smyrna), he settled disputes among the brethren and then, noticing a spirited youth of superior physique and handsome appearance, commended him to the appointed bishop with the words, "I leave this young man in your keeping, with Christ as my witness".

When John returned to Ephesus, the churchman brought home the youth entrusted to his care, raised him, and finally baptized him. After this he relaxed his oversight, having put the seal of the Lord on him as the perfect safeguard. But some idle and dissolute youths corrupted him with lavish entertainment and then took him with them when they went out at night to commit robbery or worse crimes. Soon he joined them and, like a stallion taking the bit in mouth, he dashed off the straight road and down the precipice. Renouncing God's salvation, he went from petty offenses to major crimes and formed the young renegades into a gang of bandits with himself as chief, surpassing them all in violence and bloody cruelty.

Time passed, and John paid another visit. When he had finished his mission, John said, "Come now, Bishop, return the deposit that Christ and I left in your keeping with the church as witness". At first the bishop was dumbfounded, thinking that he was being dunned for funds he had never received. But John said, "I am asking for the young man and his soul".

"He is dead", groaned the old man, in tears.
"How did he die?"
"He is dead to God. He turned out vile and debauched: an outlaw. Now he is in the mountains, not the church, with an armed gang of men like himself".

The apostle tore his clothing, beat his head, and groaned, "A fine guardian I left for our brother's soul! But get me a horse and someone to show me the way". He rode off from the church, just as he was. When he arrived at the hideout and was seized by the outlaws' sentries, he shouted, "This is what I have come for: take me to your leader!" When John approached and the young leader recognized him, he turned and fled in shame. But John ran after him as hard as he could, forgetting his age, and calling out, "Why are you running away from me, child - from your own father, unarmed and old? Pity me, child, don't fear me! I will give account to Christ for you and, if necessary, gladly suffer death and give my life for yours as the Lord suffered death for us. Stop! Believe! Christ sent me".

The young man stopped, stared at the ground, threw down his weapons, and wept bitterly. Flinging his arms around the old man, he begged forgiveness, baptized a second time with his own tears, but keeping his right hand hidden* (*As unworthy of forgiveness for all the bloodshed it had caused). John, however, assured him that he had found forgiveness for him from the Savior. He prayed, knelt down, and kissed that right hand as being cleansed through repentance. Then he led him back and did not leave him until - through prayer, fasting, and instruction - he had restored him to the church: a great example of true repentance and regeneration, the trophy of a visible ressurection.

O Brother, where is thine prayer?

2010-10-08T10:24:00.002+01:00

(The following material is classified "spiritual" and may disturb the ones that don't believe in God.) :)

Many people pray and many people pray for stupid things. Why? Cause they don't know the One they are praying to? In prayer, the key thing is to know who do you pray to. Your picture of the One you pray to will define how you pray and what you ask in your prayers. My theory is this. You pray for what is important to you. Those things that you ask for, in prayer, expose what is important for you and what you value in life. Many prayers are selfish. Does that mean that we are selfish? Oh, yes, we are.

Prayer is important. Or better said, prayer is essential. Prayer is not a technicality, prayer is a breath. Prayer is not a duty, it's not an obligation, it's not something that you have to do. Prayer should be something you want to do. Prayer is a safe place, a hiding place when you are afraid, but prayer is also a place of passion, of tears, of pain, of loud cries, of expectation and strong desire...

So let's get to know the One that we pray to more, let's allow him to change our hearts which will change our prayers. And then...let's pray.

Edinburgh Part 2 ("Jesus")

2010-10-02T21:52:00.002+01:00

Thessaloniki (the view, the friends, the burgers at Cosmos) was great, Guildford (staying with our dear friends Scot and Misty) was great, London ("I like the market in Camden Town!") was great, Edinburgh was great. I guess it should be expected that I write about Edinburgh and Scotland and that is cool. Probably I should, cause it's a beautiful city and I really loved it. But if I have to choose one thing, one significant thing, then I will have to write about the ending of the Magnify gathering, when Pete Greig shared a message about where 24-7Prayer has been and where it is going. This is how the message began and this is all I have to say for now...

"Let’s be absolutely clear about this, 10 years on, we are here to change the world. We are that naïve, we are that idealistic and the reason that we want to change the world it’s the same reason why we started. The vision is Jesus. And until he is the most loved, most listened to, most respected person on earth, until heaven comes to earth, until we are living in the very dream for which he created us, we gonna keep fighting. We gonna keep praying, we gonna keep serving, we gonna keep binding up our broken bones, and mopping up our tears, and caring for people. The vision is Jesus, 10 years on. I’m so thrilled that that hasn’t changed. There could be no greater vision, there could be no one else on whom to spend your life, there could be no one else worth your life than Jesus Christ who laid his life down for us. So, if you can find a greater cause, go follow it, but if you can not, I urge you, don’t waist your life just playing games but give your life to the greatest cause of all, who is the greatest name of all, Jesus Christ. So if you are with me, let’s change the world for his glory. That’s what it’s about".

Edinburgh Part 1 ("Hot Chocolate")

2010-09-24T22:23:00.004+01:00

The candle-lit table that we have it's just few meters from the sea. The weather is perfect on this September night and across the bay are the shimmering lights of Thessaloniki. Probably bustling with people, cars and sounds. But we don't hear them. All we hear at the moment is Johnny Cash singing U2's "One" from the radio in the bar behind. The hot chocolate (orange&cinnamon flavor) tastes great, but it tastes even better with friends. Much better. You won't be sorry if this moment lasts just for a while. Actually, it's not about how long it will last. The moment is made by the people that are with you, they are the "soul" of the moment. You know you can be at the same place, having the same drink, looking at the same view, smelling the same aromas, sitting there alone and it won't be the same. No, it won't be the same. It is then you say that it's not about the money you have or how much you know but about the people. Not that Nick Cave was wrong when he sang, "People they ain't no good" but you know that you are also one of them. And the Teacher said that we please him when we love people.

Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn (1918-2008)

2010-09-06T20:43:00.004+01:00

I heard the name of Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn few years ago but I never had the chance (or maybe the interest) to read some of his works. After an increased interest to learn more about the Soviet regime and Stalinism, I couldn't ask for better teacher than him. First I read his book called "In The First Circle" which is a book that talks about the life in one of the labor camps, or better, in one of the institutions where the prisoners are scientists and intellectuals and they work in the field of science while serving their sentence.

My point is not to comment about the book (which is great) or retell it, but about the way he writes about such a serious and painful subject. What struck me is that there is not a judging and condemning tone in his writing. No, he is writing with a hidden irony and sarcasm that you don't see and on the surface he just describes the lives and the backgrounds of the prisoners, but inside there is something happening in you when you read that. You are hit by the reality that they serve their 10 or 25 years (mostly for offenses they "intended" to commit) knowing that at any moment they could get 10 or 25 more and spend their whole life in prison. I guess that's the mastery of his writing which I really admire.

After that I read his first novel which first drew the attention of the public called "One Day In The Life Of Ivan Denisovich" which is much shorter and not so complex. And again, when I read the book I felt that there is nothing special about it but when I finished it, it hit me. The reality of the life in the labor camps. Here are the closing lines of that book.

He covered his head with the skimpy, grubby blanket and stopped listening to the zeks from the other half crowding in between the bunks to be counted.

Shukhov felt pleased with life as he went to sleep. A lot of good things had happened that day. He hadn't been thrown in the hole. The gang hadn't been dragged off to Sotsgorodok. He'd swiped the extra gruel at dinnertime. The foreman had got a good rate for the job. He'd enjoyed working on the wall. He hadn't been caught with the blade at the search point. He'd earned a bit from Tsezar that evening. And he'd bought his tobacco.

The end of an unclouded day. Almost a happy one. Just one of the 3,653 days of his sentence, from bell to bell.

The extra three were for leap years.

Ole! (Can I have a steak please?)

2010-08-27T20:22:00.005+01:00

The other day I saw couple of photos of a korida and the bull bleeding and then afterwards being dragged out of the arena dead. I'm not someone who is very loud about animal rights and stuff but seeing this is kind of upsetting. All the people around watching and the poor animal being killed. I heard some time ago that before they let the bull go out into the arena they stab him so he starts bleeding and as the fight progresses he becomes weaker and weaker and in the end he can be killed easier. But that is not a fair fight. (Some time ago I saw on the news a bull jumping in the crowd and hurting a bunch of people. I know it's wrong but something in me said "Yes! Do it!") So, I join all those who are against this kind of entertainment.

But as I walked on the street few days ago a thought came to me. How different this is from killing the same kind of animal in the factory and then eat it as a hamburger or a steak? I will not give an answer, I'm just asking.

Is God a banker?

2010-07-20T20:23:00.003+01:00

We read in the Old Testament that God created a nation that was supposed to be different from other nations and be his representative on the Earth. Part of the plan for that nation was to give them laws and regulations through which they should live and there is nothing unusual in that, every nation had laws. What is interesting and unusual is the countercultural nature of those laws.

For example, God told them that every seventh year they should cancel the debts of the debtors, let the captives go free, not glean the fruits of the harvest so the poor can eat and so on. Basically God wanted everyone to be provided for. Not the rich to get richer and the poor to get poorer. If that was ever worked out practically it's another question.

Also, all through the Bible God speaks against usury, taking financial advantage of those who are in bad situation and need to borrow money, meaning giving them money that needs to be payed back with interest.

But what about the banks in our modern society? What about the way they work and the foundations they are built upon? They are such a normal part of our urban life that we fail to see on which foundations they are built. Their basic function is to lend people money and take it back with interest.

Christians would say that some jobs are not suited for those who follow Jesus. Let's say that christians should not work in sex-shops, casinos, strip-clubs, and that's ok. But what about banks? When we hear that someone works in a bank do we see him as an achieving person, a person with a good job, or a person who serves the spirit of money and greed? I'm not giving any conclusions here, I'm just asking.

On creativity: David Eugene Vs. Francis of Asissi

2010-07-08T19:32:00.005+01:00

Listening to David Eugene's band Wovenhand and his previous band 16 Horsepower, you can not but notice that they are pretty unique (in my opinion), if we can talk about something being possibly unique under the sun. I think they managed to find their sound and be recognized among the critics and the fans as one of the founders of the gothic americana style. My impression is he doesn't try to make music just to please those who listen to it, but create something that comes out deep from his soul. His faith in God is definitely an inspiration and influence.

Recently, during an international gathering I attended, one canadian guy commented something about St. Francis of Assisi. He said that when people tried to judge his works they couldn't trace them to any previous source of inspiration like artists or writers that worked before him. He was unique in his own way. He was also considered as the forerunner of the Renaissance, which is no small thing. About his inspiration being found in God there is no need to talk.

Of course we are all influenced by the things around us and it's hard to say that someone is completely unique and that creates something which no one has seen before. That's not the point. I think that there is something when you just want to create to glorify God and you are free from the pressure to impress people. It's like the creativity (that comes from the Creator himself) can easily flow through you. I think it's a real challenge to spend time with God and let him be the primary source of our inspiration and not the opinions of others. True creativity is found in your real self, your real self that only God can reveal to you.

President Obama in "Kill Bill 3"

2010-03-22T21:49:00.006+01:00

I am for doing good to the poor, but I differ in opinion of the means. I think the best way of doing good to the poor, is not making them easy in poverty, but leading or driving them out of it. In my youth I traveled much, and I observed in different countries, that the more public provisions were made for the poor, the less they provided for themselves, and of course became poorer. And, on the contrary, the less was done for them, the more they did for themselves, and became richer" - Benjamin Franklin

The text that you are about to read are the author's personal thoughts and opinions so don't get upset if you don't like it.

Yesterday the Health Care Reform Bill that the president Obama pushed very sternly was passed in the US House of Representatives and now it is a big deal in the US about this. Some are happy and supporting this act and some are protesting and are very much against it. Now, I'm not a very political person, and I'm not American, so I don't care so much about Democrats or Republicans or things like that, but I must comment about one thing that bothers me.

As I understand, very simply, one of the main things is that the new healthcare system will cover extra 35 millions Americans with health insurance. That means that the taxes will go up and that the wealthy will have to pay bigger taxes. And suddenly a lot of people are going crazy and are protesting against this. And among this people are millions of middle/upper class Christians raising their voice against this reform.

But there is one thing that I don't understand. Why are people so upset if more people are covered with healthcare insurance? Is it because they feel that they have earned hard their own money and they don't want their taxes to go for people who don't work and live from the social help? Or is it maybe because most of those 35 million people will be black and hispanic? Just asking. Are their brains so washed by the merciless capitalistic mindset? Americans are paranoid when it comes to Socialism, a system they have never experienced, and think that Obama is trying to make USA a socialist country. Is that maybe a mindset inbuilt in their minds from the cold war? What is wrong with the western european countries who are also in some way socialist, especially Scandinavia? Are they aware that USA has one of the cruelest healthcare systems in the world? Just asking. Or is it just because it's Obama, and he is bad cause he is a democrat?

And in Benjamin Franklin's statement, however good it sounds for human ears, I just don't see the God that I follow.

Шехерезад, прости ни за нашето лицемерие

2010-03-10T23:26:00.005+01:00

Пред две недели бев во "Канела" да купам торта и додека се распрашував за тоа какви торти имаат, во фрижидерот видов една со голема слика од Шехерезад. Се насмеав и дадов коментар дека сигурно имаат многу нарачки со нејзина слика. Девојката, сериозна, ми рече, "Па и да ти кажам, типка е!" Ме фати на препад. Не очекував дека ќе добијам толку сериозен одговор и морав да се согласам, "Да, типка е". Знаев дека луѓето ја сакаат серијата 1001 ноќ и барем таа си беше искрена.

А знам дека има многу луѓе кои не ја гледаат 1001 ноќ (а би ја гледале) затоа што се срамат од нивните пријатели и затоа што нема да бидат некакви си кул уметнички типови, затоа што таа серија е плитка и без везе и нема никаква уметничка вредност, но истите тие луѓе ќе одат на некаква уметничка изложба со уметност што не ја разбираат (ако воопшто може да се разбере) и ќе тупат околу тоа колку се сликите длабоки а всушност се жива глупост.

Од такви лицемери ми се гади.

Somewhere deep in us

2010-03-08T23:45:00.003+01:00

In moments like this I want to write. When everything is white outside and the snow keeps on falling through the night. Just looking through the window at the scene behind my building and sensing the quiet outside. The huge maple tree, my friend in all seasons, is surrounded by some pine trees and all are with branches bended from the heavy snow. And I can tell that it's still snowing just by the yellow street lights. The sky is beautiful, it's kind of orange-gray.

I feel I want to freeze the moment. I wanted to go to bed but I want to do something. I can't just leave this moment go by unnoticed. I want to write a haiku, but I don't dare. I don't want to describe details, no, I want to paint the whole scene. But I'm afraid I can't, or maybe I just don't dare thinking I would destroy it. I'm no able to describe such beauty.

And that leads me to the question why I want to make this scene eternal by putting it on paper. What is it that makes us want to freeze some moments, through words, through paintings, through photos, through music? Do we want to have something to hold on to? Something that will give us a moment of eternity? Maybe something of heaven here on earth? Or maybe that is just a sign of a longing for a place we don't see but it exists somewhere deep in us? Somewhere deep in us...

Инвестирај во Македонија

2010-02-23T23:51:00.005+01:00

Неодамна нашата влада беше многу гласна за тоа дека прави се за да охрабри странски компании, потенцијални инвеститори, да инвестираат во Македонија и ја започна огромната кампања наречена "Инвестирај во Македонија". Кога очигледно дека дојдоа далеку помалку инвестиции, ако воопшто ги имаше, тие ја обвинија светската економска криза, што до некаде и го разбирам.

Но денес разговарав со еден пријател-странец и ми рече дека пратил имејл на веб-страната на "Инвестирај во Македонија" и објаснил дека сака да отвори бизнис во земјава. Човекот воопшто не добил одговор. Во имејлот не кажал колку финансии би се вложиле, колку луѓе би се вработиле, затоа што, на пример, можат да бидат огромни суми. Но не, луѓето од владата не нашле за сходно да го удостојат со одговор. Или можеби блокиран им е мејлот.

Така ли се привлекуваат инвеститори драга владо на Република Македонија? Така ли се привлекуваат инвеститори вие приучени курсисти по маркетинг? Не! Секако дека не!

Исто така владата ни вели дека секој треба да има трето дете. Но јас само сакам да поставам едно прашање. Каде да го раѓа? На гинекологија? Кој бил таму, особено на приземје, знае за што зборувам. На гинекологија ли се пораѓаше сопругата на премиерот? Не! Се пораѓаше во приватна болница. Така што, тие приказни да му ги продавате на друг.

A serious end for "A serious man"

2010-02-05T22:42:00.002+01:00

Yesterday I saw the new Coen brothers movie called "A serious man" cause after seeing some of their movies like "O brother where art thou" or "No country for old man" I was really waiting to see what will they make next. And after my friend Shea told me that it's a weird movie I was even more eager to see it.

Well, I liked the movie, I think it's great, and I really admire how the brothers can create a certain mood that stays for the whole movie. I won't retell the movie now (you will have to see it for yourselves) but I must say that it has an amazing opening scene and few good great moments. I especially liked the guy in the synagogue ceremony lifting the heavy scrolls and going, "Jesus Christ!"

And the end of the movie. I mean what was that? Maybe even better that than the end of "No country for old man". We are so used to top-of-the-roof-happy-end-kissing-couple that gives you a good feeling for the moment. But this is an ending that at first disappoints you and makes you feel like it shouldn't end like that, but then it stays with you, and makes you ask questions. And I simply love that.

Well, to come to the ending you need to see the movie first.

Did God punish Haiti?

2010-01-15T12:56:00.004+01:00

Few days ago there was an disastrous earthquake in Haiti which most people heard about. Many people died and the estimates go up to 100.000 and the country is in chaos. The world reacted quick and a lot of help is coming to that island at the moment. I heard on the news that Haiti is the poorest country in the western hemisphere and now with this happening, it's totally devastated.

The well known evangelical Pat Robertson said in an interview that when the french used to rule Haiti, the local people made a pact with the devil so the french will leave and that after that they have been suffering badly. He made a comparison with the Dominican Republic which is on the same island and is a totally different story, attracting a lot of tourists and being in a totally different situation than Haiti. After that statement, everyone is reacting very strongly against Pat Robertson and what he said.

I don't know much about Pat Robertson and I don't really care much about him, but what provoked me was the reaction of the people. Now everyone says that his statement is nonsense and I understand that, is's logical. When people suffer and things like this happen nobody wants to judge and condemn anyone but wants to show compassion and love. Everyone wants to be humane. And that's ok.

But what if something like that really happened? What if they really made a pact with the devil? Is something, just because we don't like to hear it, automatically wrong? I'm not an expert in Haiti but I have at least few times heard that there is a lot of witchcraft, voo-doo and that it is a very dark place spiritually. Yes, God is merciful and he wants to save people but there are some principals that even He wouldn't break.

There is lot to be said about this, but I will keep it short. All I wanted to say is that we can't dismiss anything that we can't understand and that opposes our humanistic worldview. And plus there is a great movie on tv about a group of blind kids from Tibet that are climbing a summit very close to Everest and I really like to watch it.

We steal smiles

2009-12-11T21:28:00.003+01:00

These are the last days of autumn in Skopje but it feels like winter to me. They say that day after tomorrow it will go pretty cold, possibly bellow zero. As we walk through the center of town this evening, the fresh and chilly air we breathe is still autumn air, but it smells like winter to me. And somehow the sky reminds me of snow.

Little bit later we find ourselves in a mexican restaurant. It has the word amigo in it's name. Of course it's mexican. It's not full and the atmosphere is nice. The food is tasty. The waiters friendly. The menus cool. The cactuses on the tables interesting. The guy behind the bar shaking the coktails amusing.

And before long Nathan is already charming the young couple at the next table stealing smiles with his playful eyes. People come to him and make funny faces, they smile and talk to him. They tell him how cute he is. Later he gets a free tour of the restaurant by possibly the owner of the place and gets a little gift. A banana. And two small packets of sugar.

These days wherever I go with him we steal smiles. For a second we make people smile. Well, he does. And I just happen to be there enjoying the moment. Enjoying the little magic of a baby smiling. Enjoying the smile on peoples face. In the midst of a dark and distressed world, full with sad and misunderstood people we steal smiles. We have a little mission of stealing smiles. And when that happens it gives me hope somehow. It makes me feel that things can be better. That the world can be a better place. Through the smile of a baby.

p.s. You can see our "We steal smiles" gallery on facebook. take care.

Stitch 'n Bitch

2009-11-29T22:25:00.004+01:00

I just watched the photos that someone posted on facebook from the knitting club that Tina initiated. As I understand the whole idea is that girls come together (or maybe it's open for guys also) and knit and have fun and they donate the things they make to the kids in the gyspy preschool, or they sell the things and donate the money. I must say that I love the idea. It is so creative in my opinion. It's called "Се плете за дете" or translated "You knit for a kid". Misty told me that in the UK they have groups called Stitch 'n Bitch, a name which I absolutely love.

Anyway, maybe some years later someone will answer his child when asked where did you and mom met, "Well son, we met at Stitch 'n Bitch...actually just at Stitch!"

I'm back!

2009-11-26T16:54:00.000+01:00

I'm back!

Sakura

2008-04-12T19:53:00.003+01:00

Today Skopje celebrated the traditional japaneese holiday Sakura or The day of the cherry blossoms. Among the different martial arts presentations and caligraphy there was a haiku reading in which I took part with the music of a traditional japaneese flute played in the background.

In cherry blossom shade
there are even those
who hate this world (Isa)

Who's next?

2008-04-09T14:19:00.003+01:00

Haiku

2008-03-24T13:26:00.002+01:00

Не раззелени
врбата оваа пролет.
Умрела од жал.

No country for poor men

2008-03-13T12:08:00.002+01:00

To build on the picture from the last post I just want to say that I'm really glad Liverpool got through and is going to the 1/4 finals of the Champions League. I think this is the first time that 4 english teams will play in the 1/4. I hope we miss Man United and have Fenerbahce instead in the next round. We'll see...Recently Phil brought me a 84 Liverpool shirt. It's great.

Yesterday I finished reading Brothers Karamazov, more than 1000 pages, and I can say it's a masterpiece. It's considered as one of the finest pieces of literature.

Yesterday was the big "Day of the tree" and in our country 2 millions trees were planted. One for each person. We went to plant a tree and after an hour in the bus standing, when we got to the place we found out that the planting takes place 4 km away which is an hour walking. Well, that wouldn't be a problem but my mom was working that afternoon and we needed to go to Veles also, so we came back. I understand including all the people but so many people going to one place just makes a mess and it's not needed. Maybe in 20 years the organization will be better. But now, we were not surprised, this is our country!

The Greeks want us to change our name but it's not only the name but it's the identity. They don't want any Macedonians, they want citizens of New Macedonia, North Macedonia, everything but not Macedonians. They are afraid, cause if they admit that there are Macedonians that will mean that there are at least 500.000 of them living in the north of their country and many who were kicked out of the country during the civil wars who can claim the land that was taken from them. Our government needs to decide, if we want to join NATO we must make a compromise and change the name. Everyone is pressing, EU, USA... Dirty games by the civilized countries who want to teach us democracy cause we are just wild barbarians. But barbarians or not we are not changing the name. Who cares about NATO and EU.

Who would think so?

2008-02-20T15:54:00.001+01:00

Кобајаши Иса (втор дел)

2008-01-25T12:43:00.000+01:00

Во плитката река,
врз дланките што мијат садови –
пролетна месечина.

Не бркај го еленот
што дошол да ги посети
црешите во цут.

Еј, скакулче,
немој да ги изгазиш
блескавите бисери на росата!

Види го славејот!
И на благородниците
истата песна им ја пее.

Не се предавај
еј, мало жапче!
Иса е тука!

Пепруга во градината.
Детенцето ползи – таа одлетува.
Детенцето ползи – таа одлетува.

Не газете овде.
Синоќа беше преполно
со светулки.

Мачето, за миг,
го згазнува листот
носен од ветрот.

И мојот татко
ги гледаше овие планини…
Зимска осама.

Денес како и вчера…
Над бедната колипка
се шири магла

До секоја порта
пролетта стасува
со кал на наланите.

Есенски ветер.
Сенката на планината
трепери.

"Thou shalt always kill" by Dan le sac Vs Scroobius Pip

2008-01-03T12:04:00.000+01:00

Кобајаши Иса (1763-1827)

2007-12-25T14:36:00.000+01:00

Покрај Мацуо Башо еве уште еден од јапонските мајстори. Веројатно мојот омилен. Направив избор од неговото хаику и ќе го постирам во два дела. Ова е првиот.

Глеј, ене го пак,
до берачите на чај
стои еленот.

Во торбулево
малку ориз и малку
ливчиња од чај.

На богослужба
луѓето замолкнаа.
Пчелите ѕунат.

Месечино над ридот,
осветли го, те молам,
оној што краде цвеќе!

Тивок, сончев ден.
Монахот од планинскиот храм
ѕирка низ оградата.

Светот е полн со тага и бол
дури и кога црешата
ќе расцути.

Славејот си ги чисти
калливите ножиња
со сливин цвет.

Не заминувај!
Колку и да пееш лошо,
ти си мој славеј, мој!

И одлета пеперугата,
чиниш жали
што светот е таков.

Едно девојче
си го избриша носот
со цвет.

Дојди да си поиграме,
врапченце
без мајка и татко!

Црешовиот цвет
го натера и благородникот
да слезе од коњот

Check this out!

2007-12-18T13:57:00.000+01:00

GOTH-ROCK!

2007-12-12T13:49:00.000+01:00

The Winner fest is over. I must say that I really had a great time and the whole idea of making it as a small tour is great. You can hang out with the other bands, get to know each other, make plans for future gigs. We were not sure what to expect when it came to the organization and the logistics but we were positively surprised by the guys from Lithium records and their attitude and behavior towards the bands.
In the end we were second by the number of votes and in Skopje had a bunch of votes more than the other bands. But what made me happy is that we didn't have as many friends as we had votes which means that people gave their vote for us cause they liked our music, which is good. Also we had so much fun with DJ Rootboy from Struga. It was great! Well, I guess that's about it.

I just lost my operatic virginity

2007-11-21T13:05:00.000+01:00

Yes, it's true. I went to see an opera for the first time in my life just few days ago. I have always loved the philharmonic orchestra and been to a couple of concerts but never been to an opera. We saw Pietro Mascagni's "Cavalleria Rusticana" which I must say I really liked it. It was short (just a little bit over an hour), the story was simple, but the whole experience was great. Especially I liked the scenery. I think I might be hooked up on opera. :)

Summon the losers with fire in their eyes and instruments in their hands!

2007-11-09T12:14:00.000+01:00

Every year as part of the "Taksirat" festival there is a smaller festival for new bands funny or weird enough called "Loser Fest". This year the festival will be for the first time something like a mini-tour with the bands playing in Prilep (29th), Stip (30th) and in Skopje (1st of December). We applied with Vanity Fair and were very surprised and happy when we got chosen among the eight bands that will play this year. The band that has the most votes is the winner which is not a measure for the quality but it's going to be a great fun and important experience for us.

So everyone is invited because it's time for the show called...VANITY FAIR!!!

P.S. From now on the guys from Lithium Records decided to rename the festival into "Winner Fest".

Buenos noches Madrid!

2007-11-01T11:16:00.000+01:00

After six days in sunny Seville we arrived at the Madrid airport but we came a little bit late. Just one day late. Our plane already left so we needed to spend an extra day in Madrid. But I'm glad about that cause if we didn't stay I wouldn't write this song:

Есенска вечер
Уличен квартет ја свири
"Пролет" од Вивалди

Autumn evening
The street quartet plays
Vivaldi's "Spring"

P.S. The photo is the view from our hotel room. Nice!

Haiga

2007-10-08T10:07:00.000+01:00

This is the the first haiga I have made and sent to the contest of the World Haiku Association. It was edited for september and you can read the critique if you copy the following address www.worldhaiku.net/haiga_contest/48th/haiga48.htm. You can find some other works there and you will see what's the whole point in haiga. The photo was made by Diane Shipp. Enjoy!

Korab 2007

2007-09-14T11:35:00.000+01:00

Even though it was raining the day before, the morning of 8th of September was sunny as we approached the starting point of our climb of Big Korab. Will the mountain let us climb it's summit this time? You can only approach such greatness with humility and respect. The climb was pretty demanding and at times the wind was so cold and strong that withouth gloves and winter cap you think you would freeze. After more than two hours into the climb suddenly we were welcomed by the magnificent view of the slopes of Korab covered in snow that fell just few days prior to the climb. But still the summit could not be seen until later. You could hear the sound of the small streams flowing by the side. Man can only marvel at that beauty. The last hour was mostly walking on snow and was pretty hard but the satisfaction that followed was worth it.

Tired I go back to
my warm home while she stayed
to talk to the clouds.

Soulmate by Natasha Bedingfield

2007-09-11T11:53:00.000+01:00

Planetary Hypocrisy

2007-08-06T18:14:00.000+01:00

Не, навистина светот нема да се уништи со страшен тресок. Како што познатиот поет Томас С. Елиот напиша во своето апокалиптично предвидување – тоа ќе се случи со цимолење, односно лелекање. Она во што ме убеди овој став е последниот пример на планетарно лицемерие – Live Earth 07, кој верувам многумина од вас го гледаа, со вклучена клима пријатно залежани на своите каучи. Вие и онака претерано не се секирате за глобалното затоплување. А богами ниту јас.

Не се дистанцирам од мојата неодговорност. Погледнав само неколку фини рекламни клипови на кои големите познати лицемери го учеа човештвото како ќе заштеди енергија доколку користи батерии кои се полнат, на кој начин ќе допринесат за намалување на глобалното затоплување ако не патуваат со авион, ако не користат најлонски кеси и што уште не.

Мислам дека ми е доволно од вакви планетарни хуманости, кои не претставуваат ништо освен добар политички маркетинг, организиран од несудениот американски претседател Ал Гор. Разликата помеѓу овој глобален настан и митинг на политичка партија е само во пораките. Наместо изборните се извикуваа еколошки пароли.

Верувам дека по 7.7.2007 човештвото живее побезбедно! Нема опасност од цунами, земјотреси, нуклеарни катастрофи, лизгање на земјиште, поплави, пожари, ултра-виолетово зрачење.

А, ако само се потсетам дека токму Америка – најголемиот индустриски загадувач не ја потпиша резолуцијата во Кјото против емисијата на штетни гасови во атмосферата. Затоа сега нудат планетарна забава, на огромни бини, со одлично светло и звук (колку ли тие енергија трошат!!!) и со еден тон на ултра платени поп ѕвезди кои се возат во луксузни автомобили, летаат со приватни авиони, лапаат хамбургери во Мекдоналдс и не ги полнат своите батерии откако ќе им се потрошат. Па се разбира, тие си купуваат нови.

И ако се запраша некој, зар на човештвото му треба уште еден ваков настан? Па, се разбира дека му е потребен. На тој начин се потхранува духот на западниот човек, кој со ова ја потиснува својата еколошка фрустрација дека е одговорен што планетата оди во неповрат.

Live Earth е проверен метод на собирање на поени, доколку некој сака да добие титула сер. И почитуваниот Бог Гелдоф можеби со искрена намера го направи второто продолжение на Live 8 во 2006, со кој се обиде сиромаштијата да ја прати во историјата, но таа и те како остана во сегашноста. Африканците и понатаму гладуваат бедно заборавени по овој настан.

Се надевам дека со планетата нема да се случи истото. Ако и понатаму е така, посакувам Томас С. Елиот да погрешил. Како што сме настанале во космичка експлозија, можеби би било подобро така и да исчезнеме – во огромен божествн бум.

Напишано од Зоран Зафировски за Avantgarde Magazine бр. 4

Мајсторот Мацуо Башо (1644-1694)

2007-07-12T10:36:00.000+01:00

Талкам осамен.
Кукавицо, покрај тебе
сум уште поосамен.

Безимените ридови
пролетта денес ги покри
со превез од магла.

Колку би сакал да понесам
во своето ладало
малку ветер од Фуџијама.

Се разли реката
чапјите добија
пократки нозе.

Студена вода –
галебот врз неа
не може да почине.

Свенато цвеќе.
Се растураат, паѓаат семињата
како солзи.

Есенски полиња.
Шумот на ветерот се пробива
низ сувите тревки.

Не стана пеперутка
онаа гасеница,
а есента си оди.

Плови жолт лист.
Крај кој ли брег, штурче,
ненадејно ќе се разбудиш.

Свитканиот бор
додава ситни иглички
на водопадот.

Месечко, каде ли си сега?
Како потонето ѕвоно
скриен си на морското дно.

Пријателе не заборавај
на сливовиот цвет
скриен во шумата.

In Avantgarde Magazine

2007-07-05T11:40:00.000+01:00

Александар Прокопиев

2007-06-20T11:17:00.000+01:00

Овој пат ви го претставувам хаикуто на Александар Прокопиев. Ова е мој избор од неговата стихозбирка наречена Слика-тркало. Уште малку и ќе ви ги претставам големите јапонски мајстори. Уживајте и слободно коментирајте која песна најмногу ви се допаѓа.

Врапци по жици:
петтолиние со ноти
-темпо стакато.

Ќе нема пролет
за сувата гранка
ниту за збогум.

Збунето врапче:
врз бетонот зрнца студ
-измислени трошки.

Врапци во грм.
Кавгата ги открива
на мачката демнач.

Пред семафорот
осми сум на ред...и чудо!
Мирис на липа.

Гласна градска ноќ.
А липите цутат
за да ме смират.

Сам, на балконот,
пензионер игра шах.
Со ангелите.

Шетам крај река.
Стапот за чекор побрз,
водата за сто.

Над нас-врвови,
под нас-темни шуми.
Јуни, а студи.

„Магарешка„ реко,
горе, на изворот си
поила за срни.

Crazy movie

2007-06-12T14:14:00.001+01:00

And God messed their plans...

2007-06-05T10:36:00.000+01:00

I watch movies only occasionally but when I watch a movie I want it to be good. Well two days ago I saw a great movie called "Babel". One thing that I liked is that I think it was different than a usual hollywood movie these days. It reminded me more of a european film. (maybe I'm wrong). Talks about pain, injustice, disconnectedness (and still connection)...
I took the following from "The Rolling Stone".

The Bible says God was angry when man tried to reach heaven by building a tower (later named Babel); he stopped the work by devising different languages that made understanding impossible. Babel came to mean noise and miscommunication.

Some things never change. The gifted Mexican director Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu and his remarkable screenwriter Guillermo Arriaga - this film completes the brilliant trilogy they began with Amores Perros and 21 Grams - have applied the concept of Babel to the way we live now, in a world threatened by terrorism and divided by language, race, money and religion. Heavy going? Not if you want to see something extraordinary. In the year's richest, most complex and ultimately most heartbreaking film, Inarritu invites us to get past the babble of modern civilization and start listening to each other.

Владимир Мартиновски

2007-05-31T09:56:00.000+01:00

Здраво на сите. Имам работи што би можел да ги кажам но сега ќе продолжам во стилот на хаикуто - кратко. Хаикуто има огромна моќ да го долови моментот, на обичните моменти да им даде вечна димензија. Ми се допаѓа изразот дека хаикуто е како филмска камера.
Сега ве оставам да уживате во поезијата на Владимир Мартиновски, според мене еден од најдобрите хаику поети кај нас. Ова е мој избор од неговата стихозбирка „И вода и земја и оган и воздух“. И не заборавајте секоја песна се чита по два пати.

Прво будење
годинава - со звук од
лопата во мраз.

Две оси од зад
славината ја демнат
следната капка.

Наведнат бор го
милува морето со
една шишарка.

Лавовите од
фонтаната се на штрајк.
Денес не плукаат.

Врз срната од
мозаикот спие пес.
Што ли сонува?

Со игличките
борот по правта црта
кинески знаци.

Пливаме грбно -
ние во морето а
облакот на небо.

Капат стреите...
Капка по капка тонам
во соништата.

Солени капки
во воздухот - морето
е на прошетка.

Од криглата со
пиво бумбарот зема
пена за бричење.

Уште малку хаику

2007-05-07T11:38:00.000+01:00

Во последно време многу ме привлекува хаикуто како поетска форма и планирам да напишам нешто повеќе за хаикуто и мојата љубов кон него но сега ќе ве оставам да прочитате уште неколку од моите песни.

For the english speaking I will try to translate some of the haiku poetry I promise.

Времето сопре.
За момент посака да
гледа како спиеш.

Снежни врвови.
Се повеќе ми значат
дури стареам.

Низ зелен тунел
тикво си минувам. Ја
сакам пролетта.

Паѓаат ѕвезди
врз мене - дур во мракот
се пикам под ќебе.

И покрај одвод
за канализација -
багремот цвета.

Стотици лисја
шумно бијат битка со
сила невидна.

Хаику

2007-04-24T09:36:00.001+01:00

Ноќно небо. Ко
стаклена масичка со
трошки послана.

Жолт спачек на
трупчиња поткачен. А
под него дедо ми.

Долга колона.
Веќе ме заморува
визниот режим?

Низ трепетот на
лисјата за момент го
гледам крстот.

Техно забава?
Не. Во гаража дедо
ми заварува.

Никола Маџиров

2007-04-20T11:27:00.000+01:00

Стапната трева.
Се поткрева да види
кој ја гази.

Капка во вирот
и направи брчки на
месечината.

Првите снегулки
паѓаат врз колата.
Алармот молчи.

Блеснува молња.
Струјата трпери, се
плаши од звукот.

Ореви во џебот.
По градските улици
долго барам камен.

Трепкаат светла.
Светулки на патот?
Не. Патарина.

Надвор истура.
Не. Мајка ми в кујна
пржи компири.

Летен ветрец. Кон
шахтата се тркалаат
топченца од липа.

Излупено јаболко.
Оголено, од срам, бргу
менува боја.

Девојче мило,
од другите планети
те гледаат ко ѕвезда.

Welcome to the show called...

2007-03-28T13:31:00.000+01:00

Минатата недела свиревме на рок-фест. Победивме таа вечер иако победата многу многу не значи. Важно е дека сме задоволни од настапот, за наш беше важно да се скрши мразот.
Еве некои коментари што ги најдов на интернет.

"Заслужена победа! Таков контакт со публиката, такво искуство, таква професионалност… жално ќе беше ако останеше ненаградено. Ми оставија впечаток на многу посветен бенд, и ме пленеа со социјално-политичките теми што ги обработуваа во своите песни.
Музиката одлична. Македонија дефинитивно треба да се гордее со ваков бенд, без разлика на тоа кој од сите нас каков стил преферира. Само пофални зборови за нив, се радувам што ќе ги гледам наскоро во финале."

"Уф, зошто, ЗОШТО мораа да се волку професионални?!? Зошто ја немаа прекрасната наивност, одликата на секоја гитаријада? Зошто беа, бе, добри, без да можеш да им замериш за некакво гафче или испадче? Ме натераа да се потсетам на настапот на Астон Мартин (РокФест 2003), кои тогаш ме одушевија со цврстината на настапот. И, каде се сега Diverge? Единствено тие беа такви суверени владетели на сцената и зрачеа со харизма (како додека свиреа, така и за време на паузите)
како и овие момци од Vanity Fair. Нималку суетно, воопшто не бледо,
поздрав за политичката ангажираност. Дали навистина наслушнав “Kyrie Eleison” делче во текстот?"

Snow Patrol

2007-03-13T10:40:00.000+01:00

"There are swaggering bands, bands who are in your face. And then there are bands who get hold of you somewhere else. I think it’s a heart thing, an intimacy thing. Like you know them and they know you. I think we are one of those bands." So says Snow Patrol singer and chief songwriter Gary Lightbody.

"It’s been an amazing couple of years. But when it came to writing the new album we were quite monastic. It was a question of "We’ve had our fun. None of that counts now. Don’t look back admiringly at your own footprints. It’s all lost unless this next step is truly exceptional."

Snow Patrol is definitely a band worth checking. Not many bands make albums that have your attention from the beginning to the end and "Eyes Open" has some great melodies and like the singer says it touches somewhere deeper.

Се што сте сакале да знаете за сексот а не сте се осмелиле да прашате

2007-03-05T10:43:00.000+01:00

1. Кога имав шест или седум години ми го вадеа третиот крајник. Се враќам јас после 2-3 дена од болница кога моите ми купиле мини верзија на флипер. Онака баш пинбол со Химен на екранот. Радости!

2. Дедо ми беше шофер во градски и така се возам јас како мал, седнат напред до шофершајбна. Пред да се исклучи од линија 45ка и да го носи автобусот во гаража одиме на последна во Сингелиќ и купуваме по еден шејк. Боровница со сладолед од автомат. Само тогаш ние си го викавме шеик. Ќе пиеме по еден шеик? Може!

3. Кога имав 14 години го гледав за прв пат филмот Исус од Назарет. Тоа беше прв пат да го пуштат на телевизија за Велигден. Во третиот или четвртиот дел се трудев да не заплачам зашто мајка ми беше во соба а нели во Македонија е срамота да плачеш ако си машко. Откако го гледав филмот решив да го следам Исус Христос и тоа го правам и до ден денес.

4. Пред некои 4 години се враќав од далечен пат и бев во автобус што доаѓаше од Белград. Автобусот пристигна на скопските улици и беше некаде околу 12 п.м. кога застана спроти стара железничка. Срцето ми чукаше многу брзо. Таму ме чекаше една убава девојка. И мила...

5. Пред некоја вечер месечината стана црвена. Сигурно живееме во последните времиња.

Веќе помина доста време од ова со штафетата па така му ја предавам на секој што сака да напише 5 работи за себе.

These days...

2007-02-20T11:33:00.000+01:00

I finished a book called "The irresistable revolution" by a guy called Shane Clayborne. It's a fantastic book and you can visit Dejan's blog (you can find him in the links on the right side) and hear Shane speak on youtube so can have a taste of what he is talking about.

I'm translating a book called "Red Moon Rising" racing with the time to finish it in time. I enjoy doing that, cause it's a great book also and some ordinary radicals like Sonja are mentioned there. :)

I'm listening a lot to The Killers. Both albums are very good. Another band that I think is great is Kasabian. Also I'm enjoying the new Muse album "Black holes and revelations", new Foo Fighters album "Skin and bones" and new LCD Soundsystem album "Sound of Silver." And off course "Simple pleasure" by The Tindersticks.

I'm turning 29. Still in my twenties though. :) And I will always be young by my lovely wife who is 22.

Трамвајот што го спаси градот

2007-02-09T15:11:00.000+01:00

Зошто да се возиме во сосема нови автобуси произведени во Македонија?
Зошто да се вработат многу луѓе за изработката на тие автобуси?
Зошто да се изработат со материјал набавен од наши фабрики?
Зошто цените да бидат упола поефтини?
Зошто автобусите да бидат на плин и да не го загадуваат веќе загадениот град?
Зошто ни е сето тоа кога ние ќе се возиме со ...ТРАМВАЈ!

Веронаука. Царевото на царот, Божјото на Бог

2007-02-06T14:49:00.000+01:00

Штафетата на младоста не сум ја заборавил. Ќе напишам, нема гајле.Неколку мисли во однос на веронауката во училиштата. Ако државата по устав е секуларна а воедно и школство, тогаш нека биде така.Зашто не треба да ви зборувам за тоа што се случува кога црквата се меша во власта, или поточно кога се меша таму каде што не и е местото и за кое што не и е даден мандат. Христос не ги менува луѓето преку световните власти туку преку вера во него и промена на срцето. А потоа секој поединечно влијае таму каде што се наоѓа. На кратко кажано: христијани во властите, но не христијанска власт! Црквата и семејството се места каде што едно дете ќе добие верско образование, а не училиштето. И само да ве потсетам дека децата не се раѓаат како православни, муслимани или сл. Тие се раѓаат како луѓе.

Мислам дека во очите на власта во оваа земја постојат православни, католици и муслимани. Затоа логиката е следнава: «Ајде во школите да се осигураме нашите деца да си бидат поучени во православната вера и врз тоа да си го градат својот идентитет како Македонци, а муслиманите нека си учат за исламот како основа за нивниот идентитет како Албанци или Турци. (We don’t touch you so you don’t touch us.) А во целата таа голема слика сите што не се дел од овие големи верски заедници а «рамноправни» по закон се губат. Многу кратковидо од страна на власта. Би рекол вака: М.П.Ц. има и капацитет и моќ да ги привлече младите во црквите и да ги научи на Божјите патишта но не го прави тоа. (со мали исклучоци) Зошто? Затоа што е заглавена во времето. Некаде во 15 век, или порано. Ќе следува повеќе. Можеби.

He is back!

2007-01-30T11:52:00.000+01:00

The long awaited comeback of the master of tattooing in Macedonia has happened.

Worried

2007-01-23T11:04:00.000+01:00

Yesterday I saw a bunch of macedonian kids playing baseball. What is next? Cricket?

Lisboa-Dakar '07 (Respect)

2007-01-17T22:04:00.000+01:00

Молитвата на еден урбан мистик

2007-01-10T11:56:00.000+01:00

Боже, додека ја почнуваме оваа година те молам Твојата благодат и Твојот мир да бидат со нас постојано. Води не по Твојот пат и помогни ни да донесуваме одлуки инспирирани од Твојата пресвета мудрост. Помогни ни да застанеме за момент, да ја стишиме целата бучава и сите гласови што беснеат околу нас и да се смириме пред Тебе . Да уште еднаш го провериме темелот на кој што стоиме и да се пазиме од гордоста и суетното славољубие. Дај ни благодат да ја победиме себичноста и да се дадеме себе си за другите. Да ја избереме тесната порта, потесниот пат. Дај ни сила со срцето да се одлепиме од материјалното и тоа да не владее со нас и нашите одлуки. И најповеќе од се дај ни благодат да те познаваме и да стануваме едно со Тебе. Зашто ако те знаеме Тебе ќе знаеме што е вистински да се живее.

new things for new years

2006-12-29T12:27:00.000+01:00

Man! I almost lost my blog. But it's still alive. And you will still hear from me. I want to finish this year in a low-key contemplative way, considering what I can be grateful for, where I'm going, trying to know God more. OK, you have a great time for the holidays. Now I just want to post something that I have posted more than a year ago. It's probably my favourite post.

"We are driving so slow if you can call that driving. Moving with the jeep on this mountain road if you can call it a road. It is so lovely here, forest, green meadows...we stop and pick apples from the trees by the road. It is the eastern part of the country and we left the near by village to go and meet my wife's grandfather who lives in a small house in the mountain. You can get there only with a jeep, and in winter when the snow falls you just can not get there. He lives alone in a primitive house, he is 87 years old and has not seen my wife at least for few years. I was really excited and really longed to meet him and it was really an emotional meeting. We found him in the house with earthen floor and a stove...very old. He was really glad that we came...and immediately brought what he has to offer, fresh plums, pears...and some honey. He goes, "Take the spoon and eat! You are not eating!" I liked when he shared some old sayings and what I would call people wisdom and we had a great laugh. During the world war 2 he has been arrested by the germans and has spent 6 months in prison in Vienna. Basically has been through many things. We spent maybe an hour with him and it was time to go. He loaded our car with apples, pears, plums...macedonians, especially the ones that live in the country, they love to give. When we said good bye our hearts broke. Why? I dont know. Maybe because we might never see him again. Maybe because we felt sorry for him. Maybe because recently because of high blood pressure he faints...and he is alone there. We go back to our own world full of things, voices, duties, programmes, tv's, computers, clothes, cars, shops...and he stays there in his simple world. Alone. Waking up alone, going to bed alone. But perphaps we will never understand that he does not need our things and voices. He has something that we don't. It seems like your soul does not get so dirty in places like that...and you have less voices in your head. After we came back, every evening my wife asks me, "Do you think that grandpa sleeps now?" I think so...Sleep well grandpa. I hope one day you wake up in the light."

Respect

2006-12-25T14:59:00.001+01:00

I bought the dvd with Kaliopi's 30 year aniversary concert that she had in the end of November. I just wanted to say that she makes very good music creating her own style and not following the trends. The concert is great, she has a lovely voice and I respect her for that.

Conversations with Bono (Part 2) She travels outside of karma

2006-12-20T13:01:00.001+01:00

Speaking of bloody action movies, we were talking about South and Central America last time. The Jesuit priests arrived there with the gospel in one hand and a rifle in the other.

I know, I know. Religion can be the enemy of God. It’s often what happens when God, like Elvis, has left the building. (laughs) A list of instructions where there was once was conviction, dogma where once people just did it, a congregation led by a man where once they were led by the Holy Spirit. Discipline replacing discipleship.

As I told you, I think I am beginning to understand religion because I have started acting and thinking like a father. What do you make of that?

Yes, I think that’s normal. It’s a mind-blowing concept that God who created the Universe might be looking for company, a real relationship with people but the thing that keeps me on my knees is the difference between Grace and Karma.

I haven’t heard you talk about that.

I really believe we’ve moved out of the realm of Karma into one of Grace.

Well, that doesn’t make it clearer to me.

You see, at the center of all religions is the idea of Karma. You know, what you put out comes back to you: an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, or in physics-in physical laws-every action is met by an equal or an opposite one. It’s clear to me that Karma is at the very heart of the Universe. I’m absolutely sure of it. And yet, along comes this idea called Grace to upend all that “as you reap, so will you sow” stuff. Grace defies reason and logic. Love interrupts, if you like, the consequences of your actions, which in my case is very good news indeed, because I’ve done a lot of stupid things.

I’d be interested to hear that.

That’s between me and God. But I’d be in big trouble if Karma was going to finally be my judge. I’d be in deep shit. It doesn’t excuse my mistakes, but I’m holding out for Grace. I’m holding out that Jesus took my sins on the Cross, because I know who I am, and I hope I don’t have to depend on my own religiosity.

How come?

2006-12-19T14:04:00.000+01:00

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2006-12-13T21:24:00.000+01:00

When I think of the wisdom and scope of God's plan, I fall to my knees and pray to the Father, the Creator of everything in heaven and on earth. I pray that from his glorious, unlimited resources he will give you mighty inner strength through his Holy Spirit. And I pray that Christ will be more and more at home in your hearts as you trust in him. May your roots go down deep into the soil of God's marvelous love. And may you have the power to understand, as all God's people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love really is. May you experience the love of Christ, though it is so great you will never fully understand it. Then you will be filled with the fullness of life and power that comes from God! Apostle Paul

време

2006-12-05T12:05:00.000+01:00

Времево од ден на ден се постудено станува. А викаат имало глобално затоплување.

Conversations with Bono - Part 1

2006-11-30T18:35:00.000+01:00

These days I'm really enjoying reading a book called "Bono on Bono" which is not a typical biography but a series of conversations that he had with a friend of his who is a french journalist. I thought it would be interesting to post small bits of the book.

Correct. But you've also never seen a skeptic or an atheist smash himself to pieces in order to kill as many people as possible. I mean, atheists would organize concentration camps or would plan collective starvation, but this kind of terror we are dealing with now is of a spiritual nature. You can't hide from that.

It's true. Yeah, smashing other people to pieces doesn't need the same conviction. Most terrorist want to change the material world. Well, add eternity to that, and people can go a lot further to pursue their ends. It's a big prize, isn't it, eternity? It's not a two-term presidency. (laughs) But of course, this is always a corruption of some holy thesis, whether it's the Koran or the Bible. My understanding of the Scriptures has been made simple by the person of Christ. Christ teaches that God is love. What does that mean? What it means for me: a study of the life of Christ. Love here describes itself as a child born in straw poverty, the most vulnerable situation of all, without honor. I don't let my religious world get too complicated. I just kind of go: Well, I think I know who God is. God is love, and as much as I respond in allowing myself to be transformed by that love and acting in that love, that's my religion. Where things get complicated for me, is when I try to live this love. Now, that's not so easy.

What about the God of the Old Testament? He wasn't so "peace and love."

There's nothing hippie about my picture of Christ. The Gospels paint a picture of a very demanding, sometimes divisive love, but love it is. I accept the Old Testament as more of an action movie: blood, car chases, evacuations, a lot of special effects, seas dividing, mass murder, adultery. The children of God are running amok, wayward. Maybe that's why they're so relatable. But the way we would see it, those of us who are trying to figure out our Christian conundrum, is that the God of the Old Testament is like the journey from stern father to friend. When you're a child, you need clear directions and some strict rules. But with Christ, we have access in a one-to-one relationship, for as in the Old Testament, it was more one of worship and awe, a vertical relationship. The New Testament, on the other hand, we look across at a Jesus who looks familiar, horizontal. The combination is what makes the Cross.

This guy is preaching my heart

2006-11-23T12:17:00.000+01:00

I prefer to write myself on the blog and not take stuff from other sites but I thought this is worth listening to. I promise I will not bother you with too much youtube. The guy is Jason Upton.

The Arcade Fire

2006-11-21T13:10:00.000+01:00

Stay cool San Diego!

2006-11-20T14:17:00.000+01:00

Just to mention that from now on www.mcglasnost.blogspot.com will be regularly updated. Make sure you check that out. Also wendsday at 6 p.m. we see each other at the square for giving out free drinks (tea and hot chocolate! stay away you drunkards.) :)

Free Hugs

2006-11-20T13:29:00.000+01:00

This is a very cool

video

about a guy in Sydney giving free hugs. I think is worth seeing it. Also this is a

video

from the news report. Enjoy.

Dog City

2006-11-17T10:21:00.000+01:00

I dedicate this song to the mayor of Skopje and the mayors of all the municipalities in this Dog City.

Dogs in the school yards,
dogs by my building
dogs on the bus stops,
what a lovely feeling.

Dogs in the park,
dogs in the square,
dogs are lurking everywhere.

Dogs on the streets,
dogs in the mall
If I can I would k**l them all.

I don't have anything against the dogs. They are lovely animals. But this is too much. You can't even walk through the center of town and not be surrounded by dogs. There are thousands of them in Skopje. And we want to be EU. Nobody is doing anything about that. "There is no money about that. The city bank account is empty" they will say. Yes, but someone must have helped empty that account. And what do I care if you don't have money. Find them somewhere. People are more important than money.