Go, Brina!

The part of Ljubljana where I used to live is called Brinje, meaning something like Juniper Grove. Her name evokes the city I left. Last August I first saw the exhibition of her mother’s puppets there, including of one that depicts her, and then heard her sing upon the Ljubljana Castle. Today is Brina’s birthday so we shall have a PicniConcert.

A closer look at the puppet exhibition will come one day, today let me invite you up to the Ljubljana Castle which you can reach: 1. by a 1-minute funicular ride, 2. by the tourist train (and possibly bus as well), 3. by car, and despite all these options amore had to 4. walk. Again. 😀 (He chose it himself this time. That first time it was winter and I didn’t tell him of all the other options. He shall never forgive me.)

With us was my friend who is the guilty party that I know Brina at all, since he used to create puppets with her and her mother. The gig was officially called PicniConcert and even though dogs were especially invited, I chose to leave bestia with my parents. I doubt his barking at all the other male dogs would be in key. We don’t call him bestia for nothing.

I had told Brina my request on Facebook before, and she said it was feasible. Not only I got my wish (see below the gallery), she with her full band fully delivered and everything else was beautiful too: the setting, happy dogs, happy children, all the happy people in the grass, beautiful music, arrangements, lyrics. I could have chosen a better position to take photos, that’s true, but I felt good where I was.

Have a look for yourself:

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  Here we go, up up up. I make fun of amore but it was I who was the last.

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  The view as we came close. The stage was under the bridge on the right.

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  Happy doggie 1. Happy girl. Happy Modrić.

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  My friend took the picnic part seriously and brought watermelon.

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  I brought my orange towel and beer. Watching the band getting ready.

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  Here we go!

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  Happy doggie 2, if a bit tangled up.

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  Happy doggie 3, a little removed.

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  The first dog getting into the groove with everybody else.

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  Appendages and instruments.

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  Happy Brina.

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  “When I grow up.”

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  Happy doggies 4+5.

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  Happy doggie 6. Highly alert and approving.

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  By the end she lost her heels.

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  That’s at least a hint of all the band members.

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  Brina’s mother Eka Vogelnik, renowned puppeteer and illustrator, clearly enjoying it.

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  Under the stage.

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  Happy people! Thank you, Brina!

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  Amore took the previous photo and then found happy doggie 7.

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  This puppet exhibition was a month before. My friend is having a closer look…

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  Yes, yes, it’s her! Brina! By her mother. Beautiful!

And then we had pizza at Verace, the best Neapolitan pizza outside of Naples. Or so they say.

A note regarding my yesterday’s post about my first time in Rome: I hit Publish in haste before bedtime and forgot to enable captions when photos are viewed in the horizontal gallery. If you only looked at the photos without seeing the captions I invite you back, it’s all fixed now. Words are important. (And that doubled paragraph has been deleted. Sorry about that!)

A certain fact joins both posts: Brina’s song Poletje (“Summer”), my favourite of hers and my request, was the first I put on the list for our soundtrack of this visit. It marked the end of the summer of 2012 and the beginning of our eternal one. Let it last.

Not only I got my wish at the concert but she put a live version of this song on YouTube (from another performance). Here is Summer, a song about how the summer is coming and with it pretty flowers, and how every other girl has her sweetheart except I, and how they pick flowers for them but I don’t have anybody to pick flowers for.

On your birthday I wish you, Brina, much love and luck and happy summers!