Five: To the Rhythm of My Footsteps

The enigma of the unfamiliar is a warm amber whisper on a chilly spring breeze, and I am lost in Kaunas, lost in Vilnius, lost among a thousand trees. I discover with no purpose. I wander with no companion. I am alone–through forests I am; through cities I am; in every perfect, joyous way I am–carried by the cadence of my footsteps, a warm amber whisper.

Small Signs of Spring -or- In The Valley of Adam Mickiewicz

There is perhaps nothing more pleasing, nothing more valuable, than being alone with Nature. Here, every moment is yours and yours alone. Here, solitude is perfect and unbroken. Here, it is unimportant to be understood–all that is important is under your feet. The Romantics knew this. Adam Mickiewicz knew this.

You know this.

Girstupis, a tributary of the Nemunas River, winds through the
Adomo Mickevičiaus slėnis (the Adam Mickiewicz valley).
A fallen tree over Girstupis.


The ice, so long unmoved, is bursting now,
With superstitions that have dimmed the light.
Hail, Dawn of Liberty! Oh, Long live Thou!
Thou carriest the Redeeming Sun so bright.

From “Ode to Youth” by Adam Mickiewicz, 1820.
A bridge over Girstupis observes the vibrant birth of Spring.

On the Banks of the Vilnia -or- The Beautiful Guts of Broken Pianos

Vilnius is art. And to be there is to be created as art is created–as a painting, a poem, a street is created; as a river, a tree, a god is created. Vilnius sculpts you, recites you, assembles a salon and invites you to attend. It is not a place that can be appreciated by those sorry thinkers stuck in the concrete. It is an abstract city for abstract people, those who do not require meaning, who rejoice in ambiguity.

St. Anne’s Church as viewed from the other side of Maironio gatvė.
The Flamboyant Gothic façade of St. Anne’s Church.
The Church of St. Francis and St. Bernard peers out from between the towers of St. Anne’s.
A tower of St. Anne’s.
Adam Mickiewicz prays under the eyes of St. Anne, St. Francis, and St. Bernard

Everyone has the right to die, but this is not an obligation.

From the Constitution of the Republic of Užupis
Welcome to Užupis, a neighborhood of artists that declared itself an independent republic in 1997.
Woven art hangs from the main bridge into Užupis while The
UžupisMermaid suns herself.
Love locks on one of the many bridges of Užupis.

A cat is not obliged to love its owner, but must help in time of need.

From the Constitution of the Republic of Užupis
The symbol of Užupis.
The Constitution of the Republic of Užupis is displayed in numerous languages, mirrored, one might suppose, to reflect the reader in its words.
The Constitution in English.

Everyone has the right to appreciate their unimportance.

From the Constitution of the Republic of Užupis
The Angel ofUžupis.
In Užupis, art is on every wall, in every word, in every thought.

Everyone has the right to understand nothing.

From the Constitution of the Republic of Užupis
A piano on the banks of the Vilnia.

No one has the right to have a design on eternity.

From the Constitution of the Republic of Užupis
An old piano plays to the Cathedral of the Theotokos .
A piano sits under a spoon tree.

Everyone has the right to be lazy and to contemplate.

From the Constitution of the Republic of Užupis

Everyone has the right to be misunderstood.

From the Constitution of the Republic of Užupis
Advertisement

6 thoughts on “Five: To the Rhythm of My Footsteps

    1. Thanks for reading, Alexandra! The constitution has a few articles that address dogs and cats. I like that it counts animals as citizens. And I’m sorry to hear about the snow. I think we’re done with snow here, but who knows? The weather in Lithuania is unpredictable.

      Like

  1. I don’t know which is more beautiful, the writing or the pictures. It’s a close call–both are inspiring works of art. Thank you for your creativity.

    Like

    1. Thank you for allowing me to share my creativity! In doing this blog, I’ve discovered interests that I never really knew I had, and I’m lucky to have a platform to explore them.

      Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s