Kõik keerlemas - All in a whirl.

The last week has been one of the most work-intense stretches of time I've had in a while. Placing this in past tense is, of course, an overstatement.. it's closing in on mid-Friday, though given one special weekly media survey/translating project I have occupying part of this very night and tomorrow morning, not to mention semi-volunteer activities co-managing a creative space in Vanalinn (Old Town) and everything that entails on weekends, well, I think I might have a day entirely free of adult responsibilities sometime next month. I'm not complaining, mind you. Alright, I am complaining. Lightly. Like a soft bird-song in spring. Of a bird that is bitching about stress and wanting to travel and have a few moments of total unwind.

I've been somewhat bewildered (yes, I wildered be) by how rapidly the days pass when you are chained to an electronic device giving your fingers mad exercise sessions. The sky is now light until about 21:30, which definitely inspires and just ratchets up my giddiness for the unending eves of the coming months. Mornings are also quite bright.. that one took me about a week to get used to again; startling multiple times and checking the time on my mobile to make sure I hadn't overslept.. only to slip back into timeless semi-consciousness and repeat the action several times. It's interesting how we adapt to this.. and I ask, what adapts? Is it the eyes getting used to more light or the consciousness getting used to ignoring it?

In any case, the shifting seasons are doing exactly that, and I feel a lack of full, rightful participation in the process. As much as you say, "Damn, that week went by really fast because of all the work" in a positive sense, it still is just a celebration of the fleeting. Yes, fantastic that all of that work was completed and now the weekend (alternate work) is here. The speed of passage isn't that important, though, as more is on its way. Waves and waves of it. Again, not complaining. I'm absolutely mystified and certainly reminiscent (though admittedly glorifying a bit, as one does) of the times in Uni when I had that majestic feeling of time. Of course, working 30-40 hours per week during most of the time I was in Uni and the growing will to research certain topics on my 'own time' did set semi-permeable bounds on this sense of the rolling minutes. At the same time, it was such a comforting feeling in its own right - the ability to manage the things you wanted/needed to accomplish within a wider set of sun-revolvements. My life at the moment is defined by deadlines - half-hour, hour, by-the-next-morning, what have you.. in all, transforming my sense of time into something a bit overly tangible. I have this sense that in Uni, the concept of time and its elapsing varied depending upon various transient events. A long paper was due or an exam on its way, things became less fluid and a bit more scheduled; though after the completion of this event, the particles scattered back into a wider and less minute picture. Work, of course, was something still very bounded; however it was together with people I enjoyed (coworkers and customers alike, for the most part, with some horrid exceptions) and doing something which really translated into active meditation for me.

Cue warmer conditions and unfurling opportunity. The sea ice has broken up and breeze is becoming less chilling; some paddling for hours or, when employment allows, days, be on its way..s. I'm also trying to locate a cheap, older frame so I can Frankenstein Laika (my bike) into a form of full capacity; whatever roads and trails and turns appear will follow. I don't suppose that what characterized my sense of time in Uni is something which is faded or must be pushed back until I'm collecting pension. It's nothing lost; just untapped. There has to be a way to get into that rhythm (yes) more frequently, really, somehow daily. As difficult as it is for me to turn down or shed off more time-constraining activities, it's something that I must allow for in the future.. I'm used to packing the schedule to the brim and then building up shorelines above that. Balance is always key. Time for the eyes to adjust.

As Benny Benassi says: "Time. Time is what you need." Cue bass.

Edasi, вперёд..

Külmatuule.

Noh, nii. It's been a bit since any last bits of incoherencies have scattered themselves across these pages. It's been a shorter bit since the official mark of the sünnipäev (birthday) has occurred. What would logically follow in streaming text form would either be an update or a long and theoretically endless reflection on one or many things. I'll go for neither. Or bits of both. Or some cake and beer. Most likely the latterish.

The shifting of light is fantastic, though odd, on the way back toward the summertime dominance of daylight. I very often feel like I accomplish too little, that my list of 'tehtud asjad' (done things) that can be sorted from the day is often even lacking the title. True, it probably is shorter and less detailed than it could be. It's also much easier right now to at least temporarily blame it all on the extension of hours during which printed text is somewhat visible for more than a pair of hours. In that thinking, when it was dark and I was able to scratch out at least one identifiable area of 'progress' from the mid-section of the day, the quick approach of evening pushed things ahead and I felt as though the workable, productive part of the day was brushed up. With further edging in of daylight from both sides and the approach of much, much more, I suddenly feel like the one or two things actually knuckled into place is met with mitu veel tundi (so many more hours) of .. whatever seems to fill that space. I'll soon either become comfortable with the fact that I have, and allow myself to enjoy, 'free time', or I'll dive into increased levels of caffeine and actually implement the active part of the word 'motivation'. Developing a balance of both would also probably be fulfilling. Not very different from the sense of satisfaction that may be derived from cake and beer.

Here's the part where I drone on about the oddities and uneasy feelings rippling through everywhere (including here) as a result of the majanduse kriisi (economic crisis). Well, fair enough. It's my form of expressing the minimalism which may be appreciated, especially in such times. Sobib.

Kas meri peegeldab taevase värvi, või ongi teistpidi?

Does the sea reflect the colour of the sky, or vice versa?

Las, et see küsimus lihtsalt riiputab..

Edasi, вперёд..