Emigration etc.

After months of negotiations and public relations campaigns' pros and
cons Lithuanian government gave green light for the establishment of
Guggenheim museum in the capital Vilnius. This will be a joint project
between Lithuania, the Guggenheim and the State Hermitage Museum in
Russia. The most prominent supporter and the locomotive of the project
the former mayor of the capital Arturas Zuokas hopes that the project
will put Lithuania on the cultural map of Europe and draw a different
kind of tourist crowd (which at the moment mainly consists of
stag-partying Brits and Irish, along with hordes of Poles paying
pilgrimage to Adam Mickiewicz).

While the project adds up to a total of 80 million euro, it is
believed that over 400,000 people would visit the museum and in the
next 7 years state and private coffers would start experiencing the
benefits of this gargantuan once-in-a-lifetime project.

Even before the government's blessing some steps have already been
done, although until last week it wasn't clear whether the government
would back up the project and chip in – at least partially. The main
threat for Guggenheim came from the institution that was previously
run by the projects keenest flagman and fomer mayor Zuokas. During his
term he introduced many initiatives in the Lithuanian capital and was
awarded The Outstanding Young Person of the World 2002 title by the
Junior Chamber International.

Yet despite the facelift the capital experienced during his term, he
couldn't avoid harsh critique for some of his ideas, an example of one
being the free public bike system borrowed from Copenhagen. Naïve
folly! The bikes disappeared from the cobbled streets of the Old Town
in less than a week.

The opponents of Guggenheim blame former mayor that the museum will
turn out to be another way of laundering money – an accusation Zuokas
has been facing from his first day in the office. Moreover, current
vice mayor of Vilnius has publicly accused Guggenheim with financial
intrigues and blamed it for colonizing third world countries. Along
came critique from a group of Lithuanian artists and architects
complaining that the government should give priority to the national
art and artists.

Guggenheim as an institution faces various critiques. A prominent
French art critic has dubbed it "a Coca Cola factory with branches
everywhere around the world", other museums point out that it has
metamorphosed into a franchise, while some of the exhibitions were
criticized for the subject matter, i.e. Georgio Armani dresses and BMW
motorcycles. Yet nothing of such a scale has ever happened in
Lithuania yet. It was the first time a number of renowned architects
were competing for the right to erect Guggenheim structure in Vilnius
– among them Daniel Libeskind and Massimiliano Fuksas. Eventually it
was awarded to Zaha Hadid's futuristic design.

It might have earned the name of a franchise for a reason, yet to
stubbornly oppose Guggenheim with wooden crosses, post communist
paraphernalia and local art celebrities would mean to deny the idea of
art as a way of bringing cultures together. Moreover, it would condemn
the country for decades or possibly centuries of terra incognita
status in the eyes of the world. In a recent survey in the UK
Lithuania was voted as the least known European destination.

When in the late 1990s Guggenheim was built in a poverty stricken
Bilbao in the Basque region of Northern Spain, some were suggesting to
use the money to build factories. Today many of the opponents have
become museum's keen supporters with more than a million visitors a
year. Moreover, the museum has contributed more than 1.75 billion euro
to Spain's GDP and helped to maintain 4,500 jobs a year.

Guggenheim might not be the only way to draw more people to Lithuania.
Pubs with smoked sausages, cheap beer and girls will obviously draw
more crowds than avant garde art or Litvak centre that should be
included in the new Guggenheim. I say should. Because after dozens of
disappointing decisions my country has made, I finally have hope in it
again. I don't think we'll be as prosperous as Ireland as soon as our
politicians hope to become, but if Dublin draws tourists for Guinness,
Vilnius could find its own way. And I keep my fingers crossed.

Written for "Metro Eireann"

Hi, I'm looking for a like-minded lady to accompany me in taking part in Spencer Tunick's Dublin installation at the IFSC on June 21st www.spencertunickireland.ie. I'm a little wary about doing it on my own. Please help! Alan (36 tall, dark and handsome)

Would you like me to hold you by the hand and warm your pink buttocks up as I whisper some encouraging thoughts on the way to IFSC? Sorry, mate, I think you have registered for a wrong photocall.

I am blown away! It is not a parking lot, not yet another supermarket, Pennys or offices. It is a brand new four-screen Light House cinema on Market Square in Smithfield, built after the old Light House Cinema on Abbey St. was shut down in 1996. The brand new cinema is aiming to focus on independent and world cinema and I have to say that their current screenings prove that.

Moreover, the halls have wooden floor! Something very scarce in Ireland. And nobody was eating pop corn during the screening of XXY which we watched yesterday! There are four relatively small screens, with a total capacity of 614. And LOTS AND LOTS OF SPACE!

God, I soooooo would like to exhibit my large format photographs of shut down cinemas of Dublin, which I did for NCAD there. Do you think it would be easy to find sponsorship? I'd need about 300 Euro for paper, darkroom and framing. Should I contact them?

Get naked in Dublin and become a piece of art!

I've never done anything like that, but hey, we only live once, so if you feel like revealing your private bits in front of the camera with a couple of hundred and possibly thousand of other exhibitionists or aficionados of all things naked, go to this website and register to pose for Spencer Tunick's installation in Dublin or Cork! Long live art!

Spencer Tunick's photograph of Mexico City

I think I have a fetish for vintage gadgets. The other day, as I was passing "Oxfam" in Dundrum on the way to the bank, I couldn't believe when I saw it on the window display. On the very bottom shelf, besides jewellery. Looking so classy and almost new. All azure, with black keyboard. Not quite as vintage as the one in "Naked Lunch", but still - a typewriter. You don't come across them often nowadays. I needed one as a prop for a photoshoot. Well, the photoshoot became an excuse later on, at first I was just admiring the fact of it in the window and for only 20 Euro, even though I'm trying not to surround myself with too many things. And it was before Tom Hanks confessed his passion for them to Jonathan Ross.

Every time I was walking to the bank I was admiring the view of it on that Oxfam window. And then it was gone. That's when I realised I could use it as a prop, but farewell... it was no more. I went to a few other charity shops afterwards feeling like an dinosaur or an alien. Do you ever get typewriters? I was searching for time lost or remembering time lost. Like the other time, when I was doing a social documentary project for NCAD Course and photographing closed cinemas of Dublin. I think, I've calculated about 9, there are probably more.



Carlton on O'Connell Street. Rephotographed black and white handprint.



Stella in Rathmines. Rephotographed black and white handprint



Classic on Harold's Cross. Rephotographed black and white handprint

Last week I embarked on another mission, looking for 120 color slide film for my new Holga. The fact that I bought it for 35 Euro on ebay (shipping included), while the last time I saw them in "Urban Outfitters" they cost about 90 Euro is another story. The fact that apart from this funky shop nobody else seems to be selling them in Dublin, is another, yet even sadder story. Anyway. As some of you might know, a few years ago Agfa discontinued production of all their 120 films, thus the only way some manage to make shots like these is if they were stockpiling them in the attic previously. Therefore if you are looking for colour slide in Dublin, you are left with either Fuji or Kodak. After going to John Gunn, Camera Exchange and a few more decent camera shops in Dublin which seem to be resisting the evolution of photography into point-and-shoot-everybody-is-a-photographer-can-I-see-the-picture digitalisation, I had to sadly face the fact that getting such hazy bluish colours might not be possible while I am in Dublin. In John Gunn (by far the best film photography shop in Dublin with the most-knowledgeable staff) I was told Kodak slides are a bit OTT, while when I popped into a camera shop on Grafton street stupidly hoping that perhaps they might have a few slides secretly concealed on some God-forgotten shelf, I couldn't see anything film there - just memory sticks, basic point and shoot digital cameras and batteries. The fridge with slides was hidden in the staff room. Well, good things mostly are not sold on the high streets, aren't they? Film cameras are not in fashion anymore any way. Or are they?

You don't have to look too far. Go to flickr and enter 'film' or 'plastic camera' or go to my recent discovery Film is not dead, it just smells funny, or the largest pinhole gallery or Lomography... You get the idea. Many of the best film photography works are not even scanable, like these ones by my first (and best so far) photography teacher Jurgita Remeikyte. Some of photography works are not even recordable, like this one on BBC's Genius of Photography - watch minutes 4-6.

Of course, digital photography is cheaper, more accessible, easier and more 'sharable'. You just have to upload it to flickr and voila! Everybody is a photographer. You manipulate the pictures till they become sickly plastic and you hear 'wow'.

12 years ago Julian Stallabrass in his remarkable book "Gargantua. Manufactured Mass Culture" said that around 60 billion photographs are taken every year and with the arrival of domestic computer manipulation 'every sunset will be perfect'. There was much truth in his words, wasn't there? And that was before digital cameras cost a few hundred euros and almost all mobile phones had one integrated. Digital made photography a kind of a quickie. Point. Shoot. Upload. Print. In fact how many photographs are not even uploaded, just looked at on the back screen of our better or worse digital cameras.

At present, between three and five million photographs are uploaded to flickr.com every day. And then there is stock photography, blogs, etc... Recent cover story in "Monocle" convinced me that I'm not some nostalgic freak. Did you know that in Japan - the pioneer of digital photography - mainstream media oftentimes still uses film? And that one of the best photographers ever and one of my favourite ones - Hiroshi Sugimoto - it is being said, stockpiles rolls of film in a freezer. After some research and doubt I discovered that it is possible.

Of course, film per se doesn't attribute a photograph as a work of art. Just like digital does not make it less. It's just sad to see film disappearing so quickly. The first digital cameras for mass consumer were introduced less than 15 years ago and now almost everybody has one. We all have become photographers. When I took a picture of my 6-year-old nephew with my N65, he instantly said 'let me see the picture'. Now he knows his auntie is a bit of a freak, fiddling with plastic cameras and searching for what is no more in Dublin camera shops. Well, I got a slide film finally. Fujifilm Astia, Velvia and Provia are still quite widely available. Yet when cross-processed they can be a bit too indigo or too ruby. At least so far. Yet this is what I love about film, slide and cross-processing. No matter, what is the level of your control, it always comes a bit as a surprise. Although I still have digital (for quickies....) it is this bit of organic magic that makes me stick to film. And pay tributes to time lost. In the meantime - say cheese.



My first slide roll of Holga. Raheny. Dublin

All photos©Lina Zigelyte

This February Jameson Dublin International Film Festival gives a rare opportunityto watch a retrospective of avant-garde filmmmaker's Jonas Mekas' work. Although in his homeland Lithuania 85-year-old Mekas is better known as a poet and many still are unfamiliar with his experimental films, for some Lithuanians Mekas is what James Joyce or U2 are to the Irish - a reason to be proud and celebrate their identity.

Mekas is widely regarded as one of the leading figures of American avant-garde filmmaking or the “New American Cinema,” with the likes of John Lennon, Yoko Ono, Andy Warhol and Salvador Dali appearing in the innumerable hours of his film diaries reflecting on his life in New York, where he has been working for the past 60 years. As one of the filmmakers' fans has observed, before there was internet, "Reality TV" or YouTube, there were the films of Jonas Mekas. Quite a life for somebody who nearly became a baker in Chicago.

Mekas was born in a small village in Lithuania and in 1944 with his brother Adolfas he was taken by the Nazis and imprisoned in a forced labor camp in Nazi Germany. After the War, he studied philosophy at the University of Mainz and in 1949 with his brother he emigrated to the U.S. Initially they were heading to Chicago, where Mekas was supposed to become a baker, but two weeks after the arrival he borrowed the money to buy his first Bolex camera and began to film his life. Moreover, Mekas became a keen supporter of experimental cinema and also one of the founders of Anthology Film Archives in New York - one of the world's largest and most important repositories of avant-garde films. His efforts in promoting underground cinema have been recognized worldwide.

The filmmaker calls his films a celebration of life. Faces of celebrities merge with memories of Lithuania, episodes from trips to Europe are followed by conversations with his friends on philosophy in his New York loft. His handheld camera produces frames which are not knit together by a script, but by the act of filming. His frames flick, pause, suddenly are interrupted by Lithuanian folk singing, continue and flick again. Hours of film diaries turn into a spectacle of cinematic vision.
Dublin International Film Festival, in association with Solus - an independent film collective promoting Irish and international short and avant-garde films, will present five of Mekas' movies: As I Was Moving Ahead, Occasionally I Saw Brief Glimpses of Beauty, The Brig, Notes on a Circus, Reminiscences of a Journey to Lithuania and A Letter from Greenpoint. The filmmaker himself will arrive to Dublin as well, so if you happen to stumble across the man with his signature hat and a video camera, you might be included in one of his films.

While The New York Times suggests that the length of some of his movies may call for coffee and blankets - one of them is nearly five hours long - Mekas claims that in fact all of his film work is one long film which is still continuing. “I don't really make films: I only keep filming. I am a filmer", he remarks.

Written for "Metro Eireann"

Apologies for delay in updating the blog. Few amazing things happened in the meantime:

- I am starting a Photography and Digital Imaging Course at the Centre for Continuing Education in Art and Design in the National College of Art and Design. They've got my money and the birth certificate (which came as a big surprise for me - the passport is not not good! I was even tempted not to translate the certificate (which is in Lithuanian and Russian). A look at the certificate has reminded me that I was born in Lithuanian Soviet Socialist Republic. But if they need it...)

- "Guardian Abroad" has listed my blog in "Global diatribes and politics" category. It took about a month of waiting after applying, meanwhile I was trying to update my rantings regularly. I can take some time off now:) Joking. The pressure is high to remain in the category.

By the way, exactly 6 days ago my Lithuanian blog celebrated it's first birthday. A virtual friend of mine Aunty Sigita has compared blogger's mission to that of actor's described by Stanislavsky as public loneliness. As time goes by and more people discover my musings in cyberspace I have to admit I start to feel more public than lonely. Here's to my ego :) And here's to you who read and comment and keep the ego thriving!

Now back to to-do-list which was scribbled before I left for holidays in Lithuania or Lusitania as a young charming Irish fella working with me calls my home country. I can tick all segments and if I could choose two best they would be:

- Three days here:

Sand dunes in the Curronian Spit

and here


The Hill of Witches in Juodkrante, Curronian Spit

and here


More sand dunes in the Curronian Spit


- The Opening Concert of Lithuanian State Symphony Orchestra's Season. Violinist Liana Isakadze performed D. Shostakovich’s Violin Concerto No1. while piano virtuoso Konstantin Scherbakov (he's much hotter live than in his website) was my favorite of the night and played P. Tchaikovky’s Piano Concerto No1. Lots of fireworks (perhaps not as many as in Lang Lang's perfomance), as one should expect from Tchaikovky, but the dialogue between the pianist and the orchestra was magnificent. Whenever I hear a symphony orchestra playing, it always sends shivers down my spine. Although I would have preferred something different to Tchaikovky... My sister calls him a storm in a cup of tea. By the way, speaking of Lang Lang, he's coming to Dublin, yet alas for no particular reason I am unable to book tickets (5 months beforehand!) on National Concert Hall's website. Have emailed them about the problem. I know Lang Lang is quite "fireworky" and different to the likes of Andrius Zlabys whom by luck I managed to meet and hear while living in Philly (listen to the recordings he has on the website or watch him here if you want). No fireworks, I should say. Yet Andrius (who also comes from Lithuania) is not coming to Dublin, but Lang Lang is and after hearing him in the "Painted Veil" I loved the Chinese melodies he was performing.

Sorry for being carried away with the last passage...

Anyhow. I'm back from Lusitania and without two pennies to rub together (payday is in a week). After all Lithuania nowadays is not that different to Ireland - everybody talks about property and building sites are mushrooming everywhere. Although there are things my fellow citizens could learn from the Irish:

* Manners. When you shop in "Dunnes Stores" you say sorry if you bump into somebody. If you shop in Lithuanian supermarkets you say nothing, you bump again. And again. Until the person you're bumping into realizes he or she has to move. After he or she does you say nothing and carry on shopping. Similar manners in public transport (although it arrives on time unlike in Ireland and the timetables announce the time of the arrival to a particular stop rather than the time when the bus leaves the first stop).

* Customer service. I was surprised when after complaining that the wine I got served in a glass was corked the waitress replaced it. On the other hand, the owner was present in the cafe at that time. When my friend accidentally broke an empty pint glass the waitress asked her to pay for it. When an elderly woman walked into a boutique shoe shop after saving for a decent pair of shoes for a good while, the security guard asked her to leave pointing to her that she would not afford a pair of shoes there. Besides being bitchy shop assistants tend to be very pretentious. And waiters in most cases are way too slow. I'd love to see them working in Dublin restaurants the way they do in Lithuania. They wouldn't be able to keep up with the pace.

* Music in public places. Supermarkets are blasting Tina Turner... Come on! Although I have criticized Irish radio, at least there's no Tina in the supermarkets...

* Too many old cars on the roads. I know they are cheaper, but thinking of he future the government could do something in order to make the society more aware of sustainability and environment. I.e. in Sweden the government is offering a 1000 Euro refund when purchasing an environmental friendly car. Although some producers have increased the cost of such cars by exactly 1000 Euro. Bugger...

* Lunch breaks! Especially if you do a 12 hour shift. A receptionist of a fancy hairdresser has no lunch break (this is as witnessed to me in person). Outrageous!

*Go organic and go small! Although Lithuanian vegetables, berries, fruits and mushrooms smell of what they are and are not polished in order to look more presentable, I miss small organic produce shops. The country is devoured by supermarkets possessing imposing names: AKROPOLIS (after the Greek Acropolis), BIG, MEGA, etc. And although we are an agronomical country, because of these supermarkets we might face a similar future like Ireland when you won't be able to get local tomatoes or potatoes.

*More varieties of beer and wine, please! If you're a fan of Aussie Shiraz, you're screwed. Likewise if you admire Belgian beer. And although Ireland has the highest excise duty in the EU (2.10 Euro for each bottle of wine), I can't understand why wine in Lithuania costs the same as in Ireland. And it is boring in most cases!

*Engaging in reading while using public transport. Although busses in Lithuania (especially in the mornings) are more packed than in Dublin (because they take as many people as fit and by fitting I mean fitting - like cornichons in a jar), even those who manage to get a seat still rarely engage in reading morning paper or a book. Whereas in Dublin, even in a packed Luas or Dart majority of the passengers seem to read. Reading is good for brain exercise! And for learing new things.

* Security staff is for security purposes, not for scaring people off. They are scary in Lithuania, believe me. Like freaking Gestapo.

For those who changed their mind and don't want to visit Lithuania ever, please look up at the photos posted above :)

On Thursday evening I am taking off to Lithuania for 12 days. Really looking forward. I'm scribbling a list of to-do things. The list in no particular order looks as follows:

* Dentist
* Hairdresser
* Blood test (anaemia to blame)
* Grandma
* A night out with mom (and dad if he is willing)
* Meeting my friends with whom I took a photography course. That's us by the way:

Pinhole photo © Mad

* Exhibition "Among us" in the Contemporary Arts Centre. Give it up for my photography teacher Jurgita Remeikyte who is taking part.

* Classical music concert. This is one of those things I miss most in Ireland. Dublin is great for a pint, but good classical music concerts are scarce. I am not talking just about exploiting National Concert Hall. There are so many churches, why not use them as venues? I remember when I was working next to Curtis Institute of Music in Philadephia (PA) the students were giving free recitals every week. Bear in mind - this is one of the most prestigious conservatories in the world. If these students can do it why those enrolled in studies in Royal Irish Academy of Music can't? Unless they're secret. But if they are at least half decent they shouldn't be!

On the other hand, if there is a good concert coming up, especially with a foreign orchestra, the tickets are expensive beyond belief or they are quite often given away to participants of corporate support before I even manage to hear about the show. By the way, some time ago I was flipping through the pages of "Guardian" and what struck me was the ad of a concert in, I believe, Albert Hall or some other great stage in London where tickets started at 5 or 10 pound sterling. Moreover, a friend of mine went to a premiere in Vienna State Opera House in April for ... a mere 5 Euro. That's Vienna, ladies and gentlemen!

Although... there's an exceptionally good band from some Central European country playing on Grafton St now and again. That's how I try to satisfy my longing for classical music sometimes.

* Three days in the Curonian Spit - a long and narrow sand peninsula spreading between the Baltic Sea and the Curonian lagoon with unique sand waves in the rolling dunes, pine-tree groves and rare flora of the amber coast. As of 2000, the Curonian Spit is on the Unesco World Heritage List.

* Meeting friends in Vilnius' cafes, wine bars and pubs. I have a feeling there won't be that many of them left - distance does affect the intimacy of relationships, I noticed that when I was in Lithuania last time - over a year and a half ago. But then again I can simply enjoy Vilnius' Old Town, read books by new Lithuanian authors and sip masala in my favorite tea shop. Whenever I return to Vilnius I feel a bit like Duris in L'Auberge espagnole when he comes back home.

Last week I received an email from my previous boss in Lithuania saying perhaps I might be convinced to return. If I do I started scribbling the list of things-I'd-miss-if-I-leave-Dublin. To be continued in the next post... Although... in terms of returning - not yet, there are things I would like to do before coming back.


Vilnius | Cathedral Square| photo©Lina Zigelyte

Congolese
Japanese
Malaysian
Argentinean
Filipino
Ghanian
Indian
Peruvian
Lebanese
Venezuelan
Lithuanian

Take a guess what's common among these? And how come Lithuania made it to the list of such exotic countries? The answer - during Dun Laoghaire Festival of World Cultures cooking workshops will take place in Cooks Academy. 15 Euro each.

Give it up for those who perform! Boo to those who should be promoting our culture but scratch their crotches instead.

A few trustworthy Lithuanian historians whom I admire keep emphasizing that our cuisine is a concoction of all cultures who happened to cross our soil (Slavic, German), hence none of the dishes could be called Lithuanian. Nonetheless some, like saltibarsciai, pictured bellow, strike tourists dumb (Americans only dare to photograph them). Something in between gazpacho and borsch. Very refreshing during summertime. Well, it wouldn't be popular in Ireland, would it? :)



Bon Appétit!

It's a tranquil afternoon in Dun Laoghaire. The sea is about two hundred yards away and the tide never seems to be present here. Delightful. In front of me - a slightly too watery latte (made by a Polish guy who seems to be new in the cafe, ah well, I'll just give him time). It looks like something went terribly wrong with the air conditioning - judging by the reaction at the table next to me I am not the only one thinking the smell is somewhat reminiscent of pooh.

I have to admit Primal Sneeze is right. I am suffocating in frustration. Especially for the past couple of months. I guess the fact that I got a chance to travel this year more than ever (thus the balance in my credit card is zero) had influenced my feelings as well. I know, it is not Cambodia or Argentina (yet), just Krakow, Seville, Italy (Interrailing from Valle d'Aosta to Palermo and back up North) and Denmark (Odense & Copenhagen). Hope you have enjoyed the pictures.

In other words I have been busy exploring the continent and whenever I come back to Éire I have to face the bitter fact that Dublin is a part of an island. Not only just geographically. Despite the fact Dublin makes it to majority of various polls in Europe estimating the possibilities for job seekers and the quantity of happy people living here (and most of the time it's in the top 10 at least) there are still many things to be improved.

As I was reading the list of 20 most liveable cities in the world announced in the last issue of Monocle at work (during those lazy afternoon hours), many customers expectantly were asking if Dublin had made it to the list. I had to disappoint them. The criteria for selecting the cities(sustainability, medical care, public transport, local media, access to international media, environmental initiatives among others) were exactly the ones where Dublin needs a huge push forward.

Bellow are the cities in declining order that, according to Monocle, are the most liveable in the world:

Munich
Copenhagen
Zurich
Tokyo
Vienna
Helsinki
Sydney
Stockholm
Honolulu
Madrid
Melbourne
Montreal
Barcelona
Kyoto
Vancouver
Auckland
Singapore
Hamburg
Paris
Geneva

Despite the fact that almost all of them belong to countries that have high GDP per capita and wages far greater than the ones in Lithuania, it looks like economic factors were not the most essential ones for Monocle. And I take my hat off for that.

By the way, does anybody remember the 178-nation "Happy Planet Index" which reveals the the south Pacific island of Vanuatu with a population of 209 000 is the happiest nation on the planet, while the UK is ranked 108th? The index is based on consumption levels, life expectancy and happiness, rather than national economic wealth measurements such as GDP.

However let's come back to Dublin. I believe everybody could sketch a must-do list which could improve living here. On the other hand a temporary infatuation with a country were you've spent a mere week and living in it most of the time turn out to be two totally different stories. Conclusion - Dublin is great yet it has the potential to become greater and on a vast scale it all will depend on the generation to come. I hope this generation stops scratching the balls (a sight seen on the streets of Dublin more often than in any other city I have been to) and starts using the hands to build a better country. Their parents gave them the Celtic Tiger. What are they going to give to their own children apart passion for Guinness and GAA?

Now don't get me wrong. I deliberately posted this beforehand. Yet I have to assert that constant state of happiness for me is unfamiliar. Therefore (some might say driven by frustration) recently I did the following:

* A couple of weeks ago I applied for a Photography and Digital Imaging course in the National College of Art and Design. As always is the case in Dublin the 24-week-long course should cost what each year of full-time BA studies in photography costs in the Netherlands. One doesn't have to be Susan Sontag to distinguish the level of photography over there and here, in the Emerald Island. The course, after researching the works of the graduates of the college, seems to be one of the best in Dublin and without the promises to teach you to make pretty shots. Fingers crossed...

* Applied for volunteering in Dun Laoghaire Festival of World Cultures. Last year I was over the moon as I watched buskers banging congos, a violinist Oleg Ponomarev in leather trousers, who brought the house down playing Russian//Gyspy music and Congolese guitar wizard Niwel Tsumbu. Many visitors of the festival said they did not expect such a cultural fiesta in an island. This year should be just as good, although what a shame, Lithuanians do not participate again on a larger scale and I don't know whom to blame anymore - our embassy or the lack of initiative in our Ministry of culture or artists themselves... As for me I am getting an M size T-shirt and a badge "Volunteer". Hopefully the boss will be happy enough to give me a weekend off...

There are a few more things but I will keep them undisclosed for a while.

So I guess frustration is THE driving force for me.

Blessed are those who are busy from 8 am till 5 pm and drunk afterwards, for they shall have no time to ask wrong questions.

Blessed are those who fall asleep without wondering what they might dream about for they shall fall asleep immediately.

Blessed are those who fall in love with those who are imperfect and don't attempt to change them for they shall have less grey hair to pluck.

Blessed are those who are not frustrated for they shall live in contentment.

PS
I promise - no more mentioning of frustration :)

Emigration/Immigration is like the army. You start off as a private x and if you happen to get into the right circumstances, if you have balls to take advantage of them and if Ms Success becomes your best friend, you can even advance to becoming a general. Even the president of Lithuania Mr Valdas Adamkus started off in the USA as a blue collar worker in a Chicago factory of car parts.

Once you emigrate life starts evolving in certain phases:

* Workaholism
* Wanking
* Musing (in other words meditations on either to come back home or find a "real" job)
* Rebellion (when you knock on every door possible desperate to get that "real" job)
* Desperation (when you realize nobody is going to welcome you with hands wide open)
* Stubborness (when you persist and finally decide to go to study despite the fact you think you already know everything, but you realize this is to become your major trump card in a competitive labour market)
* etc,
* etc,
* etc,
until a possible "happy end".

Some of us get stuck in the phase of workaholism, others progress in wanking, only some of us reach the critical point of rebellion and only a handful make it through the phase of desperation. Obviously if nappies get in your way life takes a U turn. And the phase of musing is destined to repeat now and again.

There is a relatively new website in Lithuania that calls itself Lithuanian journalists' website (despite the fact it omits the largest online news magazine in the country in its links). A recent debate on the website was brought to my attention by a good virtual friend of mine who is also the author of one of the best Lithuanian blogs (and I am really looking forward to an English one - damn our ancient language).

Anyway. The point of the debate was whether journalists who have emigrated and possibly are picking strawberries in UK farms should still be called journalists or not.

You see, in my country journalists are playing gods since people stopped believing in the state, government or Parliament. The most recent Eurobarometer polls reflect that 79 percent of Lithuanians don't trust the Parliament (as opposed to the average of 43 percent in the EU), 67 percent don't trust the Government (as opposed to the average of 53 in the EU). On the other hand the level of trust in the mass media is way larger than that of the average EU citizen.

As a result a tag "journalist" is highly influential. Many get the taste of domination and manipulation with public opinion while still in their 20s. Some are not 30 yet but they've already tried pretty much every single kind of media in the country, they've worked in all major newspapers, TV stations and radio (the joys of young democracy - diversity, or perhaps as the saying goes we're jacks of all trades yet masters of none). And in a country where the main language is a language spoken by a mere 3 mln people this can become an issue if you aspire to be more than a jack of all trades. Thus some pack their suitcases and leave. Of course if we were an English speaking country (like UK, the USA or Ireland) hordes of us would be flooding the BBC, the Guardian, Sky News and the likes. But alas, it is not easy to become a journalist in a foreign country. What's left is strawberry fields, wine shops and white table cloths. And once you start in that stage it is up to you if you want to move up the ladder. But that is the advantage of Western countries - an opportunity to start everything all over again.

Perhaps I am young and dumb, but I admire the so called "American dream" stories. After all even the father of American press journalism Joseph Pulitzer came to the USA without much English and spend many hours in the library in front of the dictionary before revolutionising The New York World.

"Why do Irish people drink? Because sober people write whiny letters while they're on holidays. And skinny people never get their round in. And Hans Christian Andersen wrote rubbish stories. And Carlsberg tastes like donkey wee. And mind the saloon doors don't smack you on your skinny little bottom as you leave."

Al C O'Holic

Despite the fact that Dublin's daily "Metro" (distributed for free) encourages readers to include their full name in the emails sent to the editor, the author of the above email is anonymous.

The outrage is an answer to a Danish guy Christian who after arriving to Ireland after 10 years came to conclusion that the only difference he notices is the fact that there are more men with beer bellies and women with spare tires. This slapping of a Celtic tiger did not stay unnoticed.

"One must be blind not to notice the level of binge drinking in this
country: girls crawling from pubs on their knees and men taking a leak
wherever possible. Have you ever tried to walk in Temple Bar on a
Sunday morning? The place stinks of every excrement possible."

This was part of my response to Al C O'Holic which I had emailed to "Metro". In case he/she doesn't know that every fifth person in this country is obese (and these are the figures of 2000). Or in case he/she is not aware of the fact that Ireland has the highest level in EU in terms of binge drinking. It is not shamrocks or leprechauns in Ireland anymore. It is broken pint glasses on Grafton street and the smell of puke and piss in the city centre 24/7. Celtic tiger is getting wasted. Slainte.

By the way, for the likes of Al C O'Holic I highly suggest visiting Denmark. For pure educational purpose.