Wednesday, December 17, 2014

Cobblestones in Pilsen: text.city

Město se skládá z písmen. Písmena tvoří slova a věty. Věty vytváří odstavce, kapitoly. Kapitoly romány. Romány světy. Svět země a města. Vstávám za úsvitu; z očí si setřu praštěnou včerejší noc. Dlouhá, horká sprcha, káva a po ní jogurt. Takhle už jsem celé měsíce. Ráno je součástí dne, kdy můžu zapomenout na svoji cizí příslušnost, můžu být vlastně kdekoliv...

Cobblestones in Pilsen vol. 12: Drain cover

Any road we’re walking on will eventually lead us to a drain cover. This is like law. The drain cover lets us leave behind the cobblestones we’ve walked past, it may even let us forget about them for a moment. Then new cobblestones will come, but they will be nothing like the old ones. When we think back, these drain covers will be the only things we can put names to. I...

Cobblestones in Pilsen vol. 11: Compassion

The angel second from the right is desperate for a cuddle. She doesn’t care, if her hair is messy, even though she spent hours in front of the mirror to make sure it looks as blowsy as you can get whilst surfing. When they strike her hair, she half closes her eyes and shivers. But this only happens if someone feels jealous about the other one mollycoddled. Our first WRITER-IN-RESIDENCE...

Tuesday, December 9, 2014

Cobblestones in Pilsen: Přijď zítra

Přijď zítra Kávovar kýchá. Pořád, nezastaví se ani na minutu. Ten zvuk připomíná chrápání ledního medvěda, který nemá manželku, co by do něj strčila, zmáčkla mu nos nebo mu jen jemně pohladila hruď. Snažím se to neposlouchat. Vybavuji si, že včera večer na tom místě jsem pil poslední rundy piva, byl tam večírek. Jen přítelkyně dýdžeje se osamoceně kroutila...

Monday, December 8, 2014

Cobblestones in Pilsen vol. 10: The sky

If it wasn’t for the only sudden sunlight in three weeks sieving through the clouds, I would tend to think the skies are eternally grey here. But it isn’t the kind of cold grey, it’s a rather calm, self-conscious, conservative greyness. Steadiness stops time, paused time allows you to take advantage of it. The brochures depicting the city were all made in the summer. That...

Cobblestones in Pilsen vol. 9: In through the out door

I want to pierce a hole on the city. Destroy its walls, tear its skin to get to the heart of it. And then I will be watching from the inside what is going on in the outskirts of the city. But I am yet to get inside, I'm like a cat, who's been shut out into the cold, scraping the door to be allowed back in.​ Our first WRITER-IN-RESIDENCE Mihály Etlinger (*1990) is a...

Thursday, December 4, 2014

Cobblestones in Pilsen vol. 8: Tea for one

When I look at the ground I see myself in full. Like pigeons snatching up breadcrumbs from the road with ravenous apathy. Then I make a tea, scroll through the news on the net to see all the bad things that happened today. I rather don't look down. It's not good to be visible. On the contrary, going home and making a tea is good. Like a football match ending in a draw. Our...

Tuesday, December 2, 2014

Cobblestones in Pilsen vol. 7: Mirror

A mirror is there to show you the face you never had and never will have. Its distortion gives you the chance to regard yourself vainly. To look at a non-existing portrait. Our first WRITER-IN-RESIDENCE Mihály Etlinger (*1990) is a very talented young Hungarian writer who came here for one month thanks to our partner Pécs Writers' Program. He is going to share his thoughts...

Monday, December 1, 2014

Mihály Etlinger: Spisovatel v zrcadle

Spisovatel se střídavě díval do mapy a na město. Nemyslel na to, kde asi je, ale bál se dívat do mapy a v těch vteřinách nevidět město, které měl vidět. Jako když turisté všechno vidí jen přes hledáček svého foťáku. Bylo mu trapně. Zastrčil si mapu do zadní kapsy, típl cigaretu a podíval se na kostelní hodiny. Bylo tam vždycky poledne nebo půlnoc, ale pokaždé se musel podívat....

Cobblestones in Pilsen vol. 6: Consolation

There is something weirdly satisfying in coming across this picture in the town where Karel Gott was born. It looks like the cow cries out of sadness. He should play Lady Carneval to cheer himself up. He'd be smiling at the part where the song goes "salala" and he'd be laughing by the end. It surely is boring but why change if it has worked before? What he would really want...