Dalai Lama and Angus and Julia Stone

One of the benefits of living in New York is getting closer to the 'stage'. And what I mean here is a metaphorical stage of happening... be it a speaking event, a concert, a training.
Listening to Ludovico Einaudi, The XX, Angus and Julia Stone in the Reykjavik twilights, reading Brene Brown or Pema Chodron on those rare moments when I would open a book, or liking the posts of my friends in India about Dalai Lama's lectures, I have never dreamt of seeing any of it live. There was such a huge gap between my apartment in Iceland and everything else in the world, that I took it for granted that I would be watching these storytellers not from the floor of the performance hall, but from the comfort of my chair by flipping through pages of other people's experiences.
And since it was perfectly fine, I haven't embraced the opportunity of narrowing that gap right away, when moving to New York. But in this past week I have bridged it twice.

Here is how it happened. I was running in Brooklyn last Saturday, a nice fun run organized by Nike Club. It took me around the borough and made me realize how beautiful this part of New York City was. We run through parks, markets, streets filled with old colorful houses (reminded me of New Orleans somehow), all touched with sun and seasoned with kind autumn in the air. So I decided to get back later that evening. Jaime mentioned Brooklyn Bazaar and couple of eateries, so I started googling things to do in Brooklyn to make for a few hours of exploration. That's how I stumbled on Angus and Julia's concert on Music Hall of Williamsburg happening the following week. I jumped with excitement, as it was one of my favorite bands, and then I jumped again with disappointment, as I realized the tickets were sold out. I went to Brooklyn that afternoon and forgot about Angus and Julia for a while.

The next day I went to a yoga class down at Union Square. Amidst the shoulder stands and totally unaccessible (for me) upside down postures, the teacher mentioned she will be away next week attending Dalai Lama's lectures. I lost my already shaky balance and spent the rest of the class in savasana contemplating the chances of me ever seeing Dalai Lama in person.

I got home that night and turned to google to help locate the upcoming lectures. And there it was, in NYC, just a day before I head back to Iceland. I naturally clicked on 'Buy' button, before even checking the price. And of course the tickets were sold out. Bammer! That made me think of Angus and Julia again. So I refined my search and went to re-seller sites and ended up securing the tickets for both, cursing the people I was buying it from as being smart (and greedy) they have secured more tickets than they ever needed in advanced and selling it to poor last-minute souls like me at exorbitant prices...

I've enjoyed the concert on Monday and am looking forward to becoming enlightened next week :).

I also can't believe how many people that I look up to I've shuffled the floor with so far - Arianna Huffington, Brene Brown, Eve Ensler, Kris Carr, I am definitely grateful for these encounters and totally incredulous to the fascinating opportunities New Yorkers have for getting close to the stage.

From Reykjavik to New York

Wow, what an encounter; can only happen in New York! That thought has visited me about a dozen times now, since I moved here. Last time, just yesterday, after I finished my 3-hour-long Spanish class. I was savoring a new book by Elizabeth Gilbert (freshly fetched in the New York Public Library) in a Japanese cake house tucked in the lapels of my favorite place in New York - Bryant Park. The book was wonderful, not the content, mind you, as I haven’t started to fully comprehend what it was about yet, but the pages, the cover, the format – so much beauty in one simple object.  Suddenly, I’ve got distracted by a notion that someone was standing over my table…

Well, not going to tell you the rest of the story, but this happens here a lot. You meet people, who you were secretly hoping to meet.  You get insight or advice delivered by strangers and it leads you ways you weren’t sure how to hop on to begin with. You make meaningful connections in the city, where millions of people are carving their journey, and you know what, people are friendly and often helpful here.

So, what else Lyuba, besides meeting strangers, you’d ask?

Well, it’s still summer here, if you asked me. True, the leaves are turning yellow and some have gracefully fallen on the asphalt. I notice more and more of them every day dancing with the wind when I am out running. So, technically, it’s autumn, but for us, Icelanders, it’s just the hay day of summer. It’s +15 for the argument’s sake!

Then, there is endless choice of food and endless choice of cool places. It’s draining on your wallet, I must admit, and, possibly, on your digestive system too, but, what the fork, you only live in New York once (and generally live for that matter). So I’ve been exploring and educating my gastro-esthetical senses (hence the Japanese cake house).  To shush the alarm, my most-visited are vegetarian and vegan places still, so I am not devouring funky animals just yet.

My favorite discovery though is enormous assets of the New York Public Library that I have a free access to (except for when I overdue books, which happens often). I always loved reading, or rather the thought of doing it, as I never had time really. I even have started a book club back in Iceland, but was struggling to finish something in a month. Now, I have time and I have all the books I want, I even have a reading sofa and gazillion cafes, where reading is appropriate, so I do that a lot. I can almost feel how I am becoming smarter by the day, don’t you? (joking J). Anyway, it’s a real gift to catch up on reads that I was piling into my to do list all these years.

And, you know what, I’ve also realized that you don’t have to move to New York to have any of these. You just have to pause and notice what’s around and give yourself a permission to admire it. Give yourself permission to un-busy yourself and start living, instead of doing life, because a place is just a metaphor, and life is happening right now.

Camera rolling, action, cut!

And so it is... done. My first short has been screened today along with other 13 shorts. I walked out of the school with a certificate of a film maker into the possibility of becoming a Woody Allen.
It was fun... stressful, but fun. I laughed hard, broke rules, was screamed at, shed tears, screamed back, probably got some grey hair, made friends, made enemies and everything in between along the way. I ate bad, skipped running, had coffee, stayed up late, woke too early, read too little, cared too much... I forgot where is the mirror, did my nails in the metro, brushed my hair while walking and plucked my legs while having picnic by the Louvre - I multitasked and cut corners on everything I could... I didn't blog, didn't speak to my family, didn't have much time for friends... I walked the same streets in Paris, trying to steal the beauty here and there when it was on the way... I pushed for resources, for time and for vision... They yelled, I yelled back... And that's how I finished my first short. 

Daydreaming

I haven't been running for, what it seems like, ever. My obsession became my course and the new shoes, have totally screwed up my plan of arriving at the finish line of the Reykjavik marathon before the clock hit 3:15. I know I could do, it seems I won't... 

It saves up loads of time not running - I sleep longer and have some space between the things planned for the day, but I till have no time to keep my blog up to date... Is it always a choice to live life or to write about one? We should have asked Tolstoy, he should have known. 

Well, one benefit of not running, and not blogging, if we are on it, is that you could mono task and actually do something good. My recent friend Federico, could focus for a while and produce an amazing pasta only italians can cook (you better not distract him in the process). So I got into working on my script and a, soon to become, oscar-winning movie (even though my Russian friend who calls Federico - Fedya (she adds 'zanuda' most of the time) says that the Palm d'Or is better. 

My shoot was today in fact... have to wait till the editing is done to see if I can run for Oscar's. 

Becoming a Woody Allen

As I am rushing out for a second day of the workshop, I am leaving just a small logline of yesterday here: the filmmaking course has started with me being late (of course), the chairs being strangely uncomfortable (uh, strange they haven't figured it out yet), the classmates interesting (nice!), the teachers clever (for a change) and the whole thing quite exciting! 

I guess I've made a millimeter of a step towards becoming a Woody Allen (in a skirt), and so I don't blame him anymore for getting by with only one movie a year (which I am on a lookout for, and every time regret seeing it right away when it comes out, as the wait for the next one is the whole year!) - those bloody scripts take time to  develop! 

Cherries, music and a sunburn

Alors, my morning started extremely early... it was about 5 when I first opened one eye to check what the faithful clock on the sleeping next to me iPhone had to say. French people like to talk, I had no idea they liked it this much - those voices from unfinished since evening conversations kept bouncing of the walls of my tiny apartment, entering through the open window. Should I go for a run?... nah, another chance at sleeping, worked out fine. Ended up sleeping too long though and the planned 28K run  had to shrink to 8K only, as there were other adventures waiting...
Marche de Bastille was the first I picked on the way. It felt like everyone came here this morning, crowds of people trying and buying or yelling and selling. For an icelander (well, someone who lives there anyway) this all felt like a museum, the choice was intriguing. I spend an hour choosing bread and cheese, fruit and some greens, and just didn't want to leave, as it felt like being in a boiling with life pot.
I ended up joining a picnic with the people I have never met before. It was fun. And within the first 5 minutes I got a comment that made me laugh - I am so 'structured' - you could apparently see it from the way I cut the bread and arranged the cheese. Heh, hard to hide the core character traits, and you always take yourself with you, even to a picnic.
Hours later, I left the fun and set by the Seine with a book, reading, pondering about life and people. I felt a bit like a spectator in the cinema (as I shy away from speaking French which shovels me into background - cinema seat) with everyone around perfectly playing their roles, all those people I came across today - the runners, the Google intern, the Kickstarter entrepreneur, the others, who ate my cheese :), the tourists in Notre Dame, the cello player on the bridge (she looked marvelous in a white dress, I am not sure if that instrument she was playing was cello at all (or rather I am sure it wasn't), just had to call it something)...
I am finishing my last batch of cherries from the market earlier today - I still haven't figured out why some are twice as expensive as others - they taste the same as I've tried both.  My skin is itching from all that unfamiliar sun and I am happy I wouldn't be befriending a toilet (as I tend to do in a warmer climates) after spending the whole day out. Cheers to that!

Paris, je t'aime

It's been ages since I've posted here, I almost forgot how it works... But I am back for a while to document my life in Paris.
It's my first day and I absolutely love it! My window is wide open letting in the night air and some street noise - car sound and people's voices intertwined...
'I have to make it to the market!' that's the thought that kept running through my brain while I was making uncountable circles around the park. I pushed myself out this morning from the comfort of my lair into the Martin Luther King's park, which is just across from the building I now reside, for a dutiful exercise. I am training for a marathon, and, to be honest I have too few weeks to be lazy, but I still am once in a while, so today I wasn't... There were a few runners already there, the park was nice and thoughtfully planted - the trees would give a needed shadow for a sunny hot morning. I run listening to an audiobook, but more often than not my attention was with the people in the park - ladies lazily sunbathing and smoking slim cigarets, families settling under trees for a picnic, little children running, laughing the way it makes you laugh too, couples playing ping pong, skateboarders doing their tricks...
Circles later, new runners came in, a few left... I kept my drill for a while, but then I had to make it to the market, so I left too. A quick shower and I am back on the streets... The market is just around the corner, but it's covered, so I would have missed it if it wasn't for the warm smell of something baked. I entered to the view of stalls full of vegetables and fruit, nuts and sweets, cheese and olives - full of wonderful odor and color. That's the experience I was craving for. I did my shopping and went back to taste my purchases over a briskly made lunch. Next on the schedule was to passively socialize with a book I've started on advice of my sister. It kept me up all night and I was determined to finish it today in a cafe or a park. I chose a park - Parc Monceau - as a fellow couch surfer was offering his company for a shared reading experience. I didn't meet the guy, but I've made it to the park and made wonderful discoveries on the way - boulangerie, patisserie, a lot of nice little restaurants (I hope I remembered the streets so I can trace my way back and actually dine there at some point), delis, bookstores, cheese and wine stores, all casually planted in the vicinity of my hose... It would take me about a month to explore all those properly...
Le Parc Monceau happened to be a beautiful oasis full of trees, flowers, a lake and plenty of green to lay about. It was packed with people, so I got my share of socializing just by being around. I did some people watching laying on a picnic blanket under a tree, but I was mostly immersed in the book I brought with... I had to pull down my sunglasses a few times when my eyes were tearing over unfair life situations the characters were going through and I had push myself back home a few hours later.
My training wasn't finished for the day, so I took another running session when the evening brought some cool to the air.
A quick dinner by the open into Paris window, another reading session and voila the day is over...