Marnova – of and from a wandering mind…

Marnova's musings on life, media and Mongolia

[Chip off the old blog] Fragments

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6AM Bleedin’ Nora! My life just carries on doing its own thing. Two days ago I sensed change approaching fast. Lots has happened since and to top it all off, I am freaking out because I just got this e-mail from a Mongolian friend:

“I am on my way to UK, i arrive tomorrow. I am sorry i just got cheap flight, and was hurry to set up some stuff. If it’s alright then i will head to Bristol on Monday or Tuesday. Seya soon!”

Bloomin’ heck, I know I said (in my new year message) that it was open house, but a day’s notice…almost as bad as the time my friend from Moscow called me and said “Hey, it’s Manu!” “Hey Manu, how the hell are you?!” “Good, good. I’m in Bristol train station…I’ve come to see you” ‘Whaaattt!…which one?’ “I don’t know…” Have been to an awful night of garage and mc-ing…so bad it was funny (“Let’s big it up for Brrrisstooollll”). Never to be forgotten. Damn, the sun’s rising. Need sleeeeppp bad.

Marie [noun]:
A master of storytelling

‘How will you be defined in the dictionary?’ at

LATER PM Was so psyched after getting that mail, I couldn’t sleep! Have been waiting for Gans to come to the UK for five years now. Never thought it would actually happen. Though his e-mail shocked me, I know it absolutely cuts both ways – I can rock on up to his doorstep anytime. And that got me thinking…

A story.  Once, a Dutch friend was having a very hard time and felt alone. Somehow, caught wind of this and got straight on a coach, then ferry, then coach and train to see him at his parents place in the middle-of-nowhere (Heerhugowaard), Holland. But he was nowhere to be found. I took the two hour train back to Amsterdam, where I managed to get hold of him on the phone and went straight back out again. We just had a coffee and then I went home, but it changed things for him. He’s fine now. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.

But that’s considered weird behaviour these days. We don’t do this anymore – what happened to calling round your friend’s place to see whether they’re in or can ‘come out to play’? We’ve built our barriers so high – we guard our privacy, our fortresses, our santuaries…seeking sanctuary from what? Our own world? Our own friends? Is it really so rude to just drop by and see your mate? Relationships should be live connections, not ones kept at bay by caller ID and inbox filters. What is it about our lives, that time can really become too precious to spend it with the people we consider to share our lives? We live in separate boxes (well, they might as well be), and yet simultaneously physically we live in closer and closer proximity to each other, the communication web weaving ever tighter. Is this a spiralling Catch 22? Remote communication overload, yet the more we distance ourselves, the more we need to be in touch and the more aggressive the technology has to be to penetrate our protective barriers? Cities seem to be places where relationships struggle to compete alongside our everyday endeavours, relationships start and end with text messages and we’re strangers to our family and neighbours. And yet, it seems to me, cities play host to opportunity in multitude. Chance encounter and serendipity lie round every corner. Myriad possibilities. But we cocoon ourselves. Close ourselves off. Our lives are so compartmentalised, fragmented these days. It’s a dangerous condition.

Personally, my barricades generally tower strong and high, but if you look closely, there’s a small door and the path behind leads straight to the citadel – it’s like the eye in the Hebrew needle.  My friends have the key – and others, well they can always try their luck.  If you press an ear to the door, you may even hear a party going on;  today, I reached out of my little box (by SMS or course, I couldn’t actually speak to them) and contacted all my friends in town – we have to show this Mongolian boy a good time!

For what it’s worth…I prefer letters to e-mails, I prefer telephone calls to SMS, I prefer seeing a person to speaking to them on the phone. But, whaddddevvva, time is precious.  Anything is better than nothing.  If I have the choice, I choose immediacy and reality. I think I suffer from verbal diarrhoea.

Addendum to the addendum:
EVEN LATER PM To add to all this, Gans’ impending visit to Bristol reminded me to call a friend (ex-pat living in Mongolia) as he was meant to be in the country sometime soon.  Turns out that, at the moment that I called, he was literally shipping up into my hometown no less…we keep having spooky coincidences like that.  I don’t think I’ll expect anything less from now on.  Seems that Bristol is the gateway to the world this weekend!

This doodle is about a British condition…

“I know its coming there’s gonna be violence
I’ve taken as much as I’m willing to take
Why do you see we should suffer in silence?
My heart is broken there’s nothing to break”


Angel Cards. What on earth (or in heaven) are they about? This morning I selected/was given one. Everyone else had angels that would help them with specific things in their lives. I had the Archangel Raphael. He said that I was already a healer, like him. That has been said to me once before. And yet, I have just this moment killed a clothes moth with mine bare hands…will someone tell me just what or who am I meant to be healing?

You may or may not have noticed, that my humour can be dry. Forgive me – it’s in my blood, the Bristolian species are amongst the most sarcastic in the world. My tongue can often be found firmly wedged in my cheek. However, this much is true – open house in Bristol. More than a day’s notice, much appreciated.

Currently listening :
By Stevie Wonder
Release date: 21 March, 2000

Written by marnova

February 11, 2006 at 5:58 am

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