Corners Diary (Part One)

Serbian version below ↓

1. Puglia (Corners Xpedition)

I want to go home!
I feel sad. I have had enough.
We are in the middle of our trip.
Corners people are good, some of them I like a lot,
I am even attracted to some Corners’ girls.
And I don’t want to do stupid things, but I do have temptations when I get drunk… Don’t want that!
Want to kiss Marija and Dren (my son).

Dinners, wine, stories… I look into faces of girls and… It seems I will never get bored with that.
But I want a pretty face that I can kiss – Marija’s face!
 

 
Work in the group: chance to meet, to face my “sealed” ego.
C’mon, you can do it?
Zen, Miloš, zen!
It is not only YOU and YOUR emotions that are the most important,
C’mon, jump, you little poo poo!

We’re eating like kings. I’m completely spoiled.
I enjoy, but it is utterly uninspiring for work.

This morning I woke up at 7 AM. Walk with Julie – a goofy, good-hearted Englishwoman. Edges of the city, meadows and orchards… She started to cry when I asked her what she would really like to do… Something with her 11-year-old daughter.

I tamed a small lizard and did a clumsy headstand. Bojan taught me how to do it.

Coffee in the sun. Clover is trembling in the wind. Distant voices of Corners’ friends… Ah, it is so good here!

Simon, my roommate in Taranto, kindhearted Rasta nuthead, dresses hilariously!
In shabby – aristocratic impossible combinations: his specialty are short knitted, often female, cardigans with hanging, long wool threads, which make his sleeves longer. Those “tentacles” could easily fall into a soup or warm dish when king Simon stretches over the table. He deserved a footboy to support these “noodles”

Huh, what’s wrong with me? The moment I stepped in the part of the airport with flights to Belgrade, faces that I saw there and South-Serbian accent… I immediately felt depressed.
I would love to have one lonely day after this trip, to get myself together, before I jump into family chaos… Of course, that’s impossible.

I am picking someone’s hairs that rolled around the button of my jacket?

 

2. Newbiggin-by-the-Sea

Day 5
I sleep badly and have nightmares… but precious things are happening during the day.
I saw the Sea!
Grey, northern, but still the sea.

I got addicted to coffee, I admit.
Cups here are huge, cups of coffee with milk… Too huge for me, small baby.
 


An exhibition that I liked a lot: “Sunday painters” in the Coal Mining Museum.
 

Day 6
First crisis: I can’t stand constant conversations with people.

Last night, Karaoke evening: a lot of 50+ year-olds singing and dancing.. I felt that smell of oldness and thought how I am closer to them (even by the smell) than to the couple of teenage girls that mingled around.

Our group officially split in two. Maria and I are figuring out a new idea: blind cinema and working with blind people.

I want to kick enormous drums.
I feel fragile… Fuck Corners and all these travels if my house in Belgrade collapses!
 

 

3. Newcastle

England again.
Metro is getting filled by massive, loud, poorly dressed girls.
My nose is dripping, but my paper napkins turned into a form of bruises.
Surrounded by gang of blowzy girls.

Corners arty-parachuters are jumping and falling into local areas. Locals are shooting at them and warmly embracing their dead bodies.
(An idea for Corners promo animation)

Legendary Friday night in Newcastle.
Half of the city will be drunk and half-naked on the streets.
I admit I am attracted to those massive, terrifying, sexy, huge loud girls… At the same time, honestly, I am a little bit afraid of rough drunk male crowd when I pass through it, sober and timid.

Last one and God knows which one, coffee in England.
I seem old to myself.
I’d like to dive into Marija.
(unless stated otherwise, Marija means Marija my wife)

Finally, we came to the idea to establish a tour agency for rediscovering everyday and local, neglected curiosities in each town we visit. Office facing the street, a lot of exploring, meeting new people, workshops and tours.

This combination is working… Although, sometimes, I get annoyed by too theoretical (Maria’s) or too slow (Isabella’s) way of talking.
But, still, they are bright, talented and sensitive… It will be all right.

Imprints of the city details in plasticine.

 

4. Belgrade

Safari girls got stomach ache, ended up in hospital.
I, torn between my obligations and family (in Belgrade, I am at home), being late everywhere… But, c’mon, warm your fingers and be effective:
In the tour, I see myself as a pedant inspector who keeps very precise notes about chosen, neglected phenomena:

Imagine:
– Me being a bookkeeper of a local beggar: meticulously writing down how much, when and from whom he got some pennies.
– I am measuring all penises scribbled on the district walls and put them in pocket book, ordered by size – from the smallest to the biggest one, including a detailed map with instructions on how to find them.
 


 
Basecamp is over. Maria is gone, Isabella is still wandering through the city… I am glad that I don’t have to ring hundred numbers daily, rush and organize things anymore… I am going back to my films.

 

5. Zagreb (Digital lab workshop)

We wake up early, before the trip, Mare and I fucked. I was running to take backpack from my aunt’s flat, I bought biscuits, rushed back home on a scooter, but in a rush I forgot to take the plastic bag with socks and underwear.
So, what now?

Herons, falcons and huge puddles over meadows by the Belgrade-Zagreb highway. Trees are cut. Bus driver is telling how, back in the good old times, clothes used to be ironed and even starched! That there is a theory that Earth rotates faster than before – therefore, time runs faster and nobody is doing things out of love today but only for one’s benefit.

Zagreb: Walking and eating. Communicating. Hotel. Shower. Jerking off. Framed drawing on the hotel room wall.
I wish to open it and add some lines on that drawing.

I am tired and I don’t feel like talking in English anymore.
I want to have a beer and melt myself in music.

 

6. Blyth

Soft, clean bed. Long hot shower. Cutely decorated room… It’s much more like “Enchanting April” than some underground. Deadly tired and full of food, I’m the first one from the “Safari Here” group to go to bed.

Meeting with a company of noisy, spry grannies.
One of them, the blind one, shined the most.
Since I was the only man in the room, I was honored by compliments.

Than I walked alone for a long time. Lighthouse. Park. Beach: enormous, sandy, deserted. Fish and chips.
Vacuuming our agency floor.
Workshop with young actors, they laughed a lot at a short movie that I showed them.
Dinner at luxurious ex cinema from the 30s.
And one more beer with Lucia in the pub with “open mic”.
A fulfilled day.
 

 

I am gourmandizing in the ex cinema.
A murmur of people and food. Lemon-beer just arrived:
Long live Marija! Pretty woman, I miss you.
If only this trip would end up in, ideally, 3 days but… There are 8 more.
I am not sure if I saw a girl that I barely like here.
Bodies are sometimes frighteningly drunk.
Expressions on their faces are angry or indifferent. Faces with too much make-up but still ordinary. Or flashy.
Older women and grannies are the cutest female creatures that I encounter here.

 

A proposal for a local postcard
 

Sunday…
Everything is finally over, and I stayed the last (cheap flight was the reason).
I helped with packing, cleaning… It is quiet and somehow sad.
Everyone is just too tired. I took a bag full of food remains from communal fridge and made worker’s-style snack for Corners organizers.
But yesterday, before I came back to depressive Blyth
I had such a Zen experience among the stones by the sea.
Eyes closed, full of sun, with miniature pebbles (each one is different!) glued to my palm.

The other night, I heard music from “Salvation Army Club” and quietly snuck inside. Tidy ballroom with wooden signs and carpeting on the floor. Silver and golden trumpets playing.
I was listening for a long time before they noticed me.

 


 
 

Korners dnevnik (prvi dio)

Miloš Tomić

1.Pulja: (Korners ekspedicija)

Hoću kući!
Tužan sam, dovoljno mi je.
Danas je pola puta.
Ma, ljudi su dobri, neki mi se baš sviđaju, neke devojke me i privlače.
Ne želim da se glupiram a imam iskušenja kad se napijem… neću!
Hoću da se ljubim sa Marijom i Drenom (sinom).

Večere i vino i priče i zagledavam se u lica devojaka i kao da mi to nikad ne dosadi.
Želim lepo lice koje mogu da ljubim, Mariju.
 

 
Rad u grupi – prilika da se sretnem, suočim sa svojim zapečenim egom.
Hajde, možeš ti to?
Zen, zen, Miloše, nisu ni ti ni tvoja (moja) osećanja najvažnija, hajde, govance – skoči!

Kraljevski ručkovi, sasvim sam se razmazio.
Uživanje je, ali u isto vreme sasvim neinspirativno za rad.

Ustao sam u 7 i sa Julijom, šašavom, duša od žene Engleskinjom, šetao po ivicama grada, pored polja i voćnjaka i pričali smo o svemu… zaplakala se kad sam je pitao šta bi najviše volela da radi. Nešto sa svojom 11-godišnjom ćerkom.

Pripitomio sam guštera i dubio neuko na glavi. Bojan mi je pokazao kako se to radi.

Pijem kaficu na suncu, od vetra treperi detelina, čujem glasove drugara… Ma, baš je prijatno!

Sajmon, moj cimer u Tarantu, rasta dobroćudni čudak, oblačio se nemoguće odrpano i kraljevski. Specijalnost su mu kratki štrikani džemperi sa čijih rukava vise froncle i ućebani končići koji dodiruju i mogu da upadnu u hranu na stolu kada se kralj Sajmon pruži da nešto uzme. Skoro da mu je potreban paž da pridržava te visuljke.

Uh, šta mi je, kako sam došao u deo aerodroma za let za Beograd lica koja sam video i južnosrbijanski akcenat… uhvatila me neka depresija.
Voleo bih da u Beogradu imam jedan usamljenički dan, da malo dođem sebi… to, naravno, nema šanse.

Čupkam dlake nečije kose koje su se nahvatale oko dugmeta moje jakne?

2. Newbiggin-by-the-Sea:

5. dan:
Loše spavam i ružno sanjam… ali se dragocene stvari dešavaju danju.

Video sam more!
Sivo, severno, ali ipak.
Navukao sam se na kafu, priznajem. Ovde su velike šolje, kafe s mlekom. Bebica.
 


Izložba koja mi se mnogo svidjela: “Nedeljni slikari” u Rudarskom muzeju
 
6. dan:
Prva kriza, nervira me neprestano pričanje sa ljudima.

Sinoć je na karaoke večeri igralo i pevalo puno ljudi od oko 50-ak i više godina. Osetio sam taj miris i pomislio kako sam bliže njima po godinama (a možda i po mirisu) nego paru tinejdžerki koje su se tu promuvale.

Grupa se oficijalno podelila na dve. Sad Marija i ja smišljamo slepi bioskop i rad sa slepima.

Želim da udaram u ogromne bubnjeve.
Osećam se lomljivo. Jebeš Korners i sva ta putovanja ako se u Beogradu sruši kuća!

 

 

3. Njukastl

Ponovo Engleska.
Metro se puni krupnim, bučnim, slabo obučenim devojkama.
Curi mi nos, a salvete su mi se skupile u “bubotke”.
Okolo banda bucmastih devojaka.

Korners padobranci iskaču i padaju u lokalne sredine. Lokalci pucaju na njih i mrtve ih dočekuju u zagrljaj (ideja za Korners promo animaciju).

Petak veče.
Pola grada će biti pijano i golišavo na ulicama.
Iako me privlače te masivne, zastrašujuće, seksi krupne bučne devojke… Iskreno, malo me plaše pijani, neotesani momci ako trezan i bojažljiv prolazim kroz njih.

Poslednja, ko zna koja, kafa u Engleskoj.
Izgledam sebi star.
Hoću da se zagnjurim u Mariju
(ako nije posebno naznačeno, misli se uglavnom na moju ženu Mariju).

Na kraju smo došli do ideje za uspostavljanje turističke agencije za ponovno otkrivanje svakodnevice i lokalnih, zanemarenih kurioziteta u svakom gradu u koji dođemo. Kancelarija na ulici, puno istraživanja, upoznavanja sa ljudima, radionica i tura.

Ovaj spoj radi iako me ponekad malo nerviraju teoretski (Marijini) ili usporeni (Isabellini) načini priče mojih devojaka iz grupe.
Ali su bistre i talentovane, osetljive… Biće dobro.

Otisci detalja grada u plastelinu.

4. Beograd

Devojke pokvarile stomake, ja rastrzan između svojih obaveza i porodice i kasnim sve… Al’ hajde, zagrej prste i konkretno: vidim sebe u turi baš kao inspektora picajzlu koji iz svog zapisnika vadi niz vrlo preciznih podataka, tabela, zapisa, mapi… vezanih za te male, zapostavljene akcije i stvari.

Na primer:
– Budem knjigovođa lokalnog prosjaka: zapisujem kada je i koliko isprosio, sabiram, da ima uvid.
– Merim naškrabane kite po zidovima jednog kvarta i pravim mali vodič, knjižicu, gde ih poređam po veličini i objasnim kako da se nađu, ako neko želi da ih sve vidi…
 


 
Završio se radni kamp. Marija je otišla, Isabela još malo lunja po gradu… Drago mi je da više ne moram da vrtim 100 brojeva dnevno i jurim i organizujem. Vraćam se svojim filmovima.

5. Zagreb (Digilab radionica)

Probudili smo se rano pred put, mazili Mare i ja, tucali.
Pojurio sam po ranac kod Rade (tetke), kupio keks, trotinetom brzo kući i u žurbi zaboravio vrećicu s gaćama i čarapama. I šta sad?

Čaplje, sokoli i velike bare po njivama pored puta. Posečeno drveće. Vozač priča kako su se ranije peglale i štirkale stvari (odeća), da ima teorija da se Zemlja danas brže okreće – dakle, vreme brže prolazi i da se više ništa ne radi iz ljubavi već iz interesa.

Zagreb: Hodanje i klopa. Druženje. Hotel. Tuš. Drkanje. Crtež na zidu u sobi.
Razmišljam da ga otvorim (odramim) i docrtam nešto.

Umoran sam i ne priča mi se više s ljudima na engleskom.
Popio bih pivo i rastopio se u muzici.

6. Blajt

Mekan, čist krevet. Dug vruć tuš. Slatko dekorisana soba pored mora… Ovo je pre “Čarobni april” nego neki andergraund. Mrtav umoran i nabokan idem prvi iz “safari” grupe na spavanje.

Susret s društvom bučnih, živahnih bakica.
Jedna slepa, naročito je sijala.
Budući jedini muškarac u sobi, podobijao sam komplimente.

Onda dugo lutao sam. Svetionik, park, plaža: ogromna, peščana, pusta. Fiš and čips restoran.
Usisavanje poda naše agencije.
Radionica s mladim glumcima, mnogo se smejali na “Glas života” (kratki film koji sam im puštao).
Večera u raskošnom nekadašnjem bioskopu iz 30-ih i s Lucijom još jedno pivce u pabu uz “Open majk”.
Pun dan.
 

 

Manđam u bivšem bioskopu.
Žamor okolo. Stiglo limunadno pivo:
živela Marija! Lepa ženo, nedostaješ mi.
I kad bi ovo (putovanje) trajalo još samo 3 dana, idealno, ali… ima još 8.
Ne znam da li sam ovde još video devojku koja mi se svidela.
Uglavnom masivna, ponekad pijano zastrašujuća tela i ljuta ili nezainteresovana, nelepa lica. Prešminkana, a obična. Starije žene i bakice su najsimpatičnija ženska bića koja sam upoznao.
 

Predlog za lokalnu razglednicu.
 

Nedelja…
Sve se završilo i ostao sam poslednji (zbog jeftinog aviona sutra) i pomogao pri pakovanju, čišćenju… Tiho je i nekako tužno.
Svi su preumorni. Iz zajedničkog frižidera poneo sam kesu punu ostataka hrane i od njih napravio radničku užinu za Korners organizatore.
A juče, pre odlaska u depresivni Blajt, doživeo sam totalni zen među kamenjem pored mora. Zatvorenih očiju punih sunca i s minijaturnim kamenčićima (svaki je drugačiji!) zalepljenim za dlan.

Drugo neko veče čuo sam muziku iz “Vojske spasa” i tiho se uvukao u čistu salu s drvenim grbovima i itisonom na podu… Tu su svirale zlatne i srebrne trube… Slušao sam ih a da me dugo nisu primetili.

 

 

See more works from Miloš Tomić on his website and Vimeo.