The Solstice passed yesterday. Getting down to brass tacks its only about math. Earth is in the perihelion of its orbit and that's that. But I can't rid myself of a nagging sense its all wrong somehow. The calendar always seemed terribly off to me. We should be celebrating midsummer, not the beginning of the season. The method of measurement and division of them are just wrong. Now everything has summer written all over the place officially. So what? I can't help but think that today will be shorter than yesterday. Tomorrow shorter still. And so on. Until winter closes its grip once more. Such is essentially an irrational way to view things, because many a long day await this summer. And many a long year (hopefully). Yet still.
Along with roughly 14 thousand other people I attended the so called "Kupala Night" held on the banks of Warta yesterday. The main event was the simultaneous launch of over 6 thousand sky lanterns. To break some or other standing record, why else? It was a grand, awe-inspiring sight to behold.
I'm not even going to go into how Chinese Kuoming lanterns relate to Slavic tradition because that would be totally moot with the tendency to pick and choose any rites, beliefs, traditions, myths and stories one sees fit from anywhere in the world and combine them into a private amalgam. I mean, why restrain oneself to one pond when one can have the seven seas.
The point is, despite the throngs of people swarming the bridge and adjacent riverbanks a sense of alienation and displacement from everyone overcame me. There was of course a sense of unity. Everyone was united in participation. At some primal level however, I felt no such unity in experiencing. To that respect I found prior celebrations of this day, even last year, when I was coming back from such a get together with friends held at the campus on the east bank and saw a few solitary lanterns floating up the sky. What I felt was far more intense and signifying in some ineffable, spiritual sense, than the multitude of onlookers and lanterns yesterday. Such things should be experienced in solitude, or closely knit groups. Not in the bowels of the crowd-beast effectively desensitizing everything into banality and stripping away any semblance of magic, if there even is such a thing. Only to leave behind shat out crumpled lanterns, cigarette stubs and broken bottles littering the grassland on the banks. Such things simply can't be explained.
When it was over we decided to hoof it, as the chance of catching a tram home (stuck in the crowds pouring back into the city) was about as high as catching a ride on a flying saucer. Having stopped at some junkfood place we were soon joined by 3 of my past yearmates. Then came the confirmation. A flood of platitudes - fantastic, wonderful, phenomenal, magical, etc. Words are such crude tools indeed. Communication is not and never will be communion.
Along with roughly 14 thousand other people I attended the so called "Kupala Night" held on the banks of Warta yesterday. The main event was the simultaneous launch of over 6 thousand sky lanterns. To break some or other standing record, why else? It was a grand, awe-inspiring sight to behold.
I'm not even going to go into how Chinese Kuoming lanterns relate to Slavic tradition because that would be totally moot with the tendency to pick and choose any rites, beliefs, traditions, myths and stories one sees fit from anywhere in the world and combine them into a private amalgam. I mean, why restrain oneself to one pond when one can have the seven seas.
The point is, despite the throngs of people swarming the bridge and adjacent riverbanks a sense of alienation and displacement from everyone overcame me. There was of course a sense of unity. Everyone was united in participation. At some primal level however, I felt no such unity in experiencing. To that respect I found prior celebrations of this day, even last year, when I was coming back from such a get together with friends held at the campus on the east bank and saw a few solitary lanterns floating up the sky. What I felt was far more intense and signifying in some ineffable, spiritual sense, than the multitude of onlookers and lanterns yesterday. Such things should be experienced in solitude, or closely knit groups. Not in the bowels of the crowd-beast effectively desensitizing everything into banality and stripping away any semblance of magic, if there even is such a thing. Only to leave behind shat out crumpled lanterns, cigarette stubs and broken bottles littering the grassland on the banks. Such things simply can't be explained.
When it was over we decided to hoof it, as the chance of catching a tram home (stuck in the crowds pouring back into the city) was about as high as catching a ride on a flying saucer. Having stopped at some junkfood place we were soon joined by 3 of my past yearmates. Then came the confirmation. A flood of platitudes - fantastic, wonderful, phenomenal, magical, etc. Words are such crude tools indeed. Communication is not and never will be communion.
Zgadzam sie.
ReplyDeleteTeraz co do kolorystyki bloga: jest śliczna, ale nadto kontrastowa, próba czytania bloga po pracy skończyła się łzawieniem ócz, a nawet wyspane oko coś mi latać zaczyna, jak czytam.
Tak tylko mówię :)
Nieco rozjaśniłem tło, może nie będzie się już tak odcinać od tekstu, daj znać, czy lepiej, czy jeszcze trzeba.
ReplyDeletePoprzednia kolorystyka sprawiła, że wcale nie próbowałem tutaj czytać, tylko od razu wrzuciłem na instapaper. Teraz z kolei masz chyba skopane logowanie, coś mam problemy z zostawieniem komentarza - musiałem zalogować się przez http://blogspot.com, tutaj się nie dało.
ReplyDeleteZ logowaniem to chyba kwestia gugla, swego czasu usiłując pozostawić komentarz u Mari spędziłem 15 minut udowadniając, że nie jestem robotem (captcha się była zacięła)
ReplyDeleteFajnie byłoby być w Pozku, żeby porobić takie zdjątka. Z innej beczki, bez względu na to jak komercyjne to "święto" się staje... fajnie, że ktoś organizuje taką imprezę. Coś się dzieje.
ReplyDeleteNota bene ciekaw jestem, czy w dawnych czasach, mieszkańcy sioła Poznań po kilku latach też stwierdzali: "Patrzojcie no sąsiad, dwie wiosny temu ogniki były magiczne, a tera to tylko pochodnie by palili i dziweki w krzokach dupczyli."
:D
@W. - Z innej beczki - jasne, że fajnie, że coś się dzieje.
ReplyDeleteZ tym, że wiesz, w dawnych czasach tego typu święta miały charakter wieziotwórczy, cementowały całą społeczność (a przynajmniej, w tym wypadku, chędożący, opętany burzą hormonalną jej odsetek) a dziś to jest po prostu kolejna nowalijka. Tak jak festiwal kina śmakiego, albo kultury owakiej, na którą można się wybrać, bo ciekawe i żarcie/wino dają za darmo. Wot, pretekst do wypitki. ;)
Nie twierdzę, że powinno się znaleźć sobie miejsce w krzakach, coby mistycznie pomedytować nad naturą cyklu rocznego i przemijalnością rzeczy, a potem pochlać i podupczyć w imię uświęconej tradycji, tylko irytuje mnie to spłycenie pewnych rzeczy, bezrefleksyjna konsumpcja kultury. Ale widać takie czasy.
Niniejszym potwierdzam: obecna kolorystyka mniej meczy oczy :)
ReplyDeleteA co do tego, czy jestes robotem, czy nie- nikogo nie przekonales tak czy inaczej :D My WIEMY 8-)