How I Became A Writer: My Bio with English & Finnish poetry

Anya's Journal

How I Became A Writer: My Bio with English & Finnish poetry

"THE COMPASS ROSE" magazine office. Denver 1996-99

Photos and the story about my publication and forum are below.

As young children

Bouncy we were and steaming,

Always wheeling and dealing,

Running up all season,

Giving up no reason

For why it was so easy

- despite I was always dizzy,

upset and barely breathing -

To wake my light and busy

I always was and easel

My was so measly grizzle

That I was always teasing

My Ginie Lollobrigini

The life force, kundalini

Held for me bigger meaning,

As it was always leaning

On my "Be happy!" feeling,

Running down my earring,

My nose and up the ceiling.

- Anya, April Fool's Day, 2005 Moscow

(2^nd draft; 1^st draft on the bottom of the page)

Majoring in linguistics / literature

at Moscow University, I worked at USSR-FINLAND FRIENDSHIP SOCIETY. With music writer Artyom Troitsky

Life is never boring

When you mean to be children,

When you accept that your role

Is happy to be and its hidden

And ever treacherous meaning

Is telling you, Be forgiven!

Released from your heavenly prison

Of things you don’t know and even

Of your foundation in reason –

Your world explanation, and season

Of your second youth is forthcoming

For you to become so charming,

Recharged with your lyrics, and witty

That even your dangerous treaty

With mind and emotions will foster

Your classical motionless Oscar

To reach for his deeper feeling

Of why did we lose our meaning

To pictures and motionless TV –

To start to become so even

With heavenly justice that eerie

And evenly light will be fallen

On our highest of roles

That we’ve overstepped and forgotten

Of how the path should be trodden –

And how it shouldn’t be swallowed

By those who only withhold

From us our meager existence

And why we believe in Easter,

Its notion of peace and Disney

Whose land is impeccably crispy

And fraud that I can’t even whisper

Of why I was taught to be risking

My short and profound existence

For asking for more amusement

Than one that was given by muses

To those who always admire

The rhyme, the rhythm and aspire

To highest of possible meanings

In words, inspirations and feelings

Whose always agree with their motion

To countries to change their notion

Of world around the corner

That facing again, we popcorn

Will stuff inside our ears

To hear no more of my tears

That shedding, Mickey the Mouse

Will find his freeway in my house

And out in northest of countries

That soon will be so triumphant

To hear that make-believe mouse

Has stepped inside their house

Which has no toy of his own

But only one that was stolen

From faraway land with its whisky,

Martini that steal kundalini

And our joy that the genie

That always was playing, unnoticed,

With our children, till Oscar

Has swallowed our dreaming,

Conformed and dangerous feelings

For freedom and life that has value

Beyond what was counted failure

I taught Russian at COLORADO UNIVERSITY/colleges

1995-98 while studying scriptwriting, French, Spanish. My students at Metro State College of Denver.

Of losing my touch with my Tailor

Who gives me tireless valor

To sit on his rattle,

The rhyme and the word,

To sharpen his sword

And continue the battle

For our change of perception of Lord’s

Increased interception of our lores

That walk barefoot unnoticed by eye

Of those so confused to deny

My archerous calling

For wisdom and bowling

That was underway until Columbine

Admitted that time has come to survive

My willing to stop using free lies

Forever again to start justify

That we have instilled in our children

For them to be wise and always obedient

To those who want us to fill paradise

With our junk, beliefs and disguise

Of our wishes of living unnoticed

By those whose lies created this Osmose

Which I don’t admire and don’t want to hang on

Unless I aspire to fill to its bones

My quest for my freedom from lying and boredom

Which I to fulfill, forever restored

By my dedication to music and sound

Which ever appears to be as profound

As my inclination to word and the lyrics

To tell of my lust for the dancing of spheres

Which I'm so fond of despite their tales

Of who was the first to come up with Wells’

Insane explanation of war and the peace

Between different nations, forever increased

In time of star battles, which I fortify

By my intervention for me to survive

My inauguration in what I confine

To my explanation of what I imply

By exhilaration of seeing the fly

To soar over seas to fall from the sky

To empty its wings to where the lie

Has grown from stark to profoundest beat

To conquer the most tiny retreat

From my expectations of why I return

To a country that takes such a hideous turn

To a world that escaping, I fear again

That opening curtains will not feel like rain

But rather like thunder that I entertain

My feeling of wonder with what I attain

From all propaganda of things so mundane*

That my Bertolucci forever remains**

The god of precision in his cunning vision

Of what will soon happen to a country of weapons

So weak it will leak to other dimensions

Of which Newsweek will barely mention

Because it will not survive the antenna’s

Corruption by shots of its intravenous

Device which reloaded to kill disobedient,

Will smash every world which will be extinguished

By manipulation of word and the vision***

So distort at its own volition

That its ruling cohort won’t need ammunition

To give extra shots of blood to its mission

To fully destroy Jeanne D'Arc’s admonition

Brunch at DENVER SUMMIT OF THE EIGHT 1997

with NAINA YELTSINA and FIRST LADIES of Great Britain, Italy and the Netherlands

As a liaison to the Russian delegation at G8, I made some interesting contacts, but it was the Japanese TV ASAKI that came to "THE COMPASS ROSE" meeting to shoot a news footage.

I worked on USA work visa as in-house translator

and international liaison at CONCORD SERVICES Inc. in Denver 1992-1995

Of her cavalieros for prima premiera

To follow what was decreed by Fourier****

When he entertaining duly the crowd

Predicted that Earth will become such a loud

And dangerous place for those in space

Who fear that soon its elderly race

Will finish what started when its Holly Papa

Engaged in his war against Alma Mater,

Succeeding in weeding hundreds of seedlings

Against the famine of virtue and meaning,

Which to restore we need to adhere

To all golden laws of wisdom and dare

To strive to achieve our own perfection

In what we believe will be resurrection

Of our zest for life and emotion

That will shake the core of our notion

Of what we have lost as beautiful beings

Created in image of our Ceiling

Which has become our floor that I’d like

To thank for giving me the delight

Of raising my voice to visible height

To soar again like an eagle in flight

Above my suspicion of why I am losing

The vision of darkness so intrusive

That soon even notion of peace disappears

When I return to the world with my ears

So enrapt with all things that I hear

About my love that I give cavalieros

For them to enjoy what brings me the joy

And even emotion for what I destroy

In order to save from my world Domostroy

That I don’t admire as much as I tire

All people who think that when I retire

To my sparkling Dome, there won’t be another

Whom I will become with significant other

Who grows inside my luminous garden

In order to be successor and guardian

Of my predecessor whom I have to guard

From blunders and errors that my caminero

Creates from veneer instead of adhere

To code of stairs to climb which, Prospero

Should always consult with his Rafaela

On why cavaliero is so impatient

That treating the illness instead of the patient

Became so clear his latest creation,

That I have become again disillusioned

About my role in the secret infusion

In what has become the blood and the fusion

Of style and the reason for daily intrusion

In lives of the stars who’re only reducing

The meaning of clearing that I hold so dear

That when I come near my end I will sear

All ties except those I need to come clear

Of my interruption of starlit production

In order to quit tremendous suction

Of awe and attention for latest convention

Of all whom I call my easy creation

And whom I invite to join the troupe

Of happy lieutenants who need to regroup

I interview Valery Kamensky,Russian star of Denver

AVALANCHE hockey team, STANLEY CUP WINNER, for "THE COMPASS ROSE". I also worked as his translator.

In order to soar as high as my wind

When he’s so sore that I use my ring

To cure the patient instead of disease

In order to bring him desirable ease

From his attributes of bearable lies

By only his steward who sees the disguise

Of those whose mood depends on the eyes

Of jurors and bishops whose intuition

Create their only holy traditions

Of myths and lores, peaces and wars,

Truces and missions to cut through folklore

Of treasons and quarrels, morals and mores

Which I can only perceive through my doors

Which lead to confusion and new disillusion

Of why I am here to cut through pollution

Of negative thoughts and sunken ideals

In what has become her only idea

Of where her whole country has sunken

While she was away, confused and drunken,

Refused to obey common sense logic

When her Odyssey encountered Roger*****

In a faraway county, he thought Penelope

Would come and relieve him from his daily dope

But she was unable, obtuse and unstable,

To do what the maiden should do when she’s taken

By what she could see but never could help…

And so the story does come to its end

To be soon resumed when she is attuned

To dancing of spheres that eagerly loom

Above her decision to do the incision

In thinning fabric of mirrors and visions

That she only shares with those who part

Today from her late but meaningful start

Of new expectations for compass of rose

To tell how different nations’ morose

And cheerful climate has caused them to stall

Between their cultures and what Mr. Walt

Has offered to save their cultural void

From all that they try so hard to avoid

That new epidemics of faith has emerged

In my explanation of Wizard of Oz’

Infallible power – because he has thought

That all humans need is to be simply taught

That giving all power to their traditions

Will free them from filling in their missions

To live with each other in concord and peace

And so create on Earth Paradis

That’s spelled in this manner to strengthen

the EEE

Which stands for the Equal Earth and the Eve

Of my understanding that all happy wedding

Come from exchange of ideas and patting

On their backs for toleration

Of difference in taste of various nations.

- Anya Zontova

April 1, 2005 Moscow

* Reference to shocking commercialization of Russia I encountered after being away for 13 years

** Reference to Chinese Cultural revolution portrayed in Bertolucci's "The Last Emperor"

*** Russians today brutally twist the cultural context of their heritage through a mesmerizing play of words and rhymes in omnipresent ads and commercials, overwriting Huxley's somber anti-utopian vision in "Brave New World"

**** French Utopian Socialist of early 1800's

***** Michael Moore's documentary "Roger and Me"

I interview COLORADO VICE-GOVERNOR Gail Schoettler

candidate for Governor, for "THE COMPASS ROSE" and the Russian press, 1998

In 1996 James and I created "THE COMPASS ROSE" magazine, initially as a newsletter for Colorado International Forum - a multicultural, multilingual club that I founded in Denver - then a small monthly publication with a rich versatile content.

I edited articles penned by writers from other countries and Americans who traveled overseas. I also wrote stories based on my personal experiences and our club's weekly meetings and discussions at coffeeshops, movie theaters, Baha’i Center, homes, parks, restaurants, volleyball fields, with heated conversations on topics ranging from politics to relations between the sexes, children upbringing to the environment, laws and manners, film and arts, travel and humor in different countries, comparing and exchanging our viewpoints on what worked and what didn't in a particular culture.

The magazine concept was to change pre-conceived notions and stereotypes of other cultures created by traditional media coverage, limited mainly to international politics, economy and disasters – through peoples’ first-hand accounts of their experiences in various countries.

The inspiration to create the Compass Rose forum came to me from lecturing on Russia, moderating panel discussions, presenting Russian films at universities, schools, women's and international organizations, Denver Art Museum, clubs and churches. From my audiences as well as membership in Women's Federation for World Peace, Friendship Force of Greater Denver, Denver Sister Cities, Denver Film Festival, Alliance Francais, Finlandia Foundation, Denver Baha'i Club I encountered sincere interest, despite Americans' lack of knowledge, to how things truly were in my country. In addition, seeing myself changed and enriched by my American experiences, I wanted to explore further the idea of how people can benefit personally from understanding and integrating other cultures, beyond ethnic cuisines and holidays.

It was a very living project, which existed simultaneously in real life, print and virtual reality - until we moved to Los Angeles in 1999. I've posted some material from it to my Live Journal blog: http://desyatka10.livejournal.com

Since 1999 in Los Angeles I studied screenwriting

at UCLA and from WRITERS GUILD OF AMERICA. With F.X. Feeney, writer/film critic

In LA I worked at FILMS BY JOVE, Inc.in 2000-2003

for moviestar Oleg Vidov (center) as writer/associate producer/PR. With Arlekin theatre troupe.

Initially I wrote English verses for one of my screenplays (also penned in English), which protagonist was a musician-songwriter. I dreamed up lyrics for his songs and with them came the melodies (some texts are on http://home.earthlink.net/~anyazontova/id12.html ). Since that, not only do I find melodies for most of my Russian and English poems but oftentimes when I hear a song that I like, I come up with a new text for it - first playing with its words and then telling a different story. I expound on such exploration of different patterns of verses and rhythms for my stories in the "cover" poem on the preceding page.

Below is an example of my play with the text of a Finnish hit song. I was inspired to write it by my recent meeting in Moscow with its author’s manager Maria Tarnanen who gave me Ismo Alanko’s album with its remake (the song was played by his "Sielun Veljet" band in the 80's). I reconnected with my old Finnish friends who used to bring their rock bands to Russia since mid-80’s, me being their translator / guide - which they've revisited to explore possibilities of the entirely changed Russian market at the Music Export seminar.

I am with "Sielun Veljet" touring Moscow in 1986

Ismo Alanko's site

At the Finnish Embassy, April 2005,

where the Music Export Seminar was held, with old friend Jouko Karppanen.

With Jouko and one of 20 bands managed by him,

POPEDA, we toured Moscow and Finland.

Pic of POPEDA and me in 1988 Moscow.

Finnish Embassy Moscow courtyard

with a sculpture by Martti Aiva, March 2005.

Helsinki COSMIC SHAMANS meet Moscow CITY SHAMAN

"CLEANING WOMEN" band Risto and Tero to my left, Timo-far right; GARIK VINOGRADOV-center August 2005

"Cleaning Women" site: Launching Russian silent classics "Aelita" and "Battleship Potyomkin" into the space age with the live soundtracks

Sisäinen sotani
on sammunut

sisäinen voittoni

on tavannut

sisäinen hoitoni

missä mun jäi

sisäisen huoleni

kun minä näin

millaista roskaa

on tarttunut

silloin kun Koshka

mun istunut

painaviin syyliin

harrastunut

orava tyyliin

ja voittanut

mun ahdistusta

että mää jään

ilman mun tuskaa

joka nyt näi

sisäisen uskon

että mää vein

mun pienen puuman

sinne missä

numero Uno

taas syylissä

on vahingossa

niin pudonnut

että mun osa

ei jaksanut

mun tasapainoa

hän lainasi

silloin kun aina

sen valaisin

heitti sen roskaa

mun makasiin

jossa mun Koshka

taas lentäsi.

- Anja

                   ***

Music has been an essential part

of my screenplays and fairytales,

and interaction with musicians,

an inspiration for them.

With Peter Leinheiser, Hollywood musician / film composer. Burbank 2003

Peters band after its weekly jam that I was videotaping.

Elämäni kaari

Elämä on ruuma, kaunis ja rakas,

Lika, rämä mutta oma...

Life is ugly, beautiful and dear,

dirty, ramshackle but it’s my own…

                    – Ismo Alanko

Elämäni kaari, roikkuva ja kirkas,

Opastaa mun ikivanhan homman

Saada joku järkeä taikka aavistustä

Siitä miksi minulla on voima

Sotkea mun tie sillä mitä saan

Silloin kun en osaa kontroloida

Minun pahaolo että meille annetaan

Liika vapaus ja valikoima

Siitä mitä varten Sotkumaassa juodaan

Viinaa että en saa arvioida

Missä päin mun jalat kulkevat

Riippumatta siitä minne ohjaan

Kohtaloni koska minun aivot lepäävät

Siitä että en saa liikaa lomaa…

Elämä on tarkka, tiukka ja raskas

Silloin kun on jatkuvasti janon

Määrän rangaistus on mahdotonta selostaa

Sillä arviolla että kannan

Ottaen en osaa aavistusta selittaa

Miksi olen saanut helpotusta

Huomaamalla että heti kirkastuu

Synkän taivaan alla minun tuska…

   -    Anya    15.4.05

Embassy reception: Maria Tarnanen to my right,

to my left is Kalle Chydenius; center, Sami Peura of Sam Agency and Silja Suntola, Sibelius Academy

Sisäinen solarium

on sammunut

sisäinen sotani

on vastannut

mun ikivanhaan

otteluun nyt

että mää hastaan,

hämmästynyt,

taas tätä riitää

joka mut vei

planeetan viittaan

jolla mää tein

mun parhaan teon

elämässä

silloin kun uskoin

etten mää saa

mun innostuksen

siitä jossa

mun oivalluksen

paremmin saan

selittää sillä

mun himolla

että mun viivaa

sinutellaan

niin että osaan

nyt ennustaa

mitä mun osa

nyt tarkoittaa

silloin kun heti

mää ymmärsin

miksi mää netin

niin brausin

että mun sana

mun havaitsee

toimeksiannan

silloin kun sen

mun vastaanotto

mun valoisti

elämänotto

mun kirkasti

mun ristiriita

taas minut vei

miun sateliitaan

silloin kun tein

tuohon pieneen nurkkaan

mä askelen

- Anja

Kriisiä mä en osaa selittää

Kun mun osa ottaa minut hänen nurkkaan

Missä humalasti hätä juo hänen tee

Että voisin tehdä heti itsemurhan

Silloin kun mun murha jatkuvasti katseli

Minun uran nousua ja puuha

Kamalasti monta kerta sitä ajatteli

Että hänkin voisi kuulostella mitä koputtaa

Hänen äärimarän pyhään henkeen

Joka voisi heti hämmenystä nostuttaa

Minun paratiisin puuhan penkkiin

Joka ylläkerran alla radan ylistää

Joka vie heti minut jenkan

Kierrokseen mun sisäoivalluksen ympäri

Että mulla taas ei ole tuska

Siitä huolimatta että hänen naapuri

Vieläkään ei aivan tähän usko

Ettei minun sana kauheasti harkitse

Sitä mitä mä en osaa itse

Ilman sanakirjaa, puhallusta havaitsen,

Selitellä miksi menin ristiin

Riidan kanssa kun mä haluaisin uskoa

Ettei tämä ole pelkkää vitsi…

- Anja



     ***

As young children,

Bouncy we were and happy

For no particular reason.

Running up, all sweaty,

As though a windy genie

Whirled in my butt,

The life force, kundalini

Spiraled from down up.

The spring never smells

Like when you are a child,

The tears dry their well

When you are not adult,

When the world appears

A sunlit living mystery.

Then, I entered puberty,

Sadness stored my mind

With hormones, kundalini

Began to form its rite,

And how come the passion

Became my vital sign?

But passion is a thirst

Unquenchable, admit,

It comes and goes fast,

It doesn’t save my wit.

Where is my drive for fun?

Why doesn’t the spring smell?

The secret from world's gone,

I know all answers well.

Now you are kneeling

Instead of running around,

And your kundalini

Is seepin’ down the ground.

The boredom and thirst for past

Are crawling in unnoticed...

Did I age that fast?

Is my answer misfortune?

How come I know

All the boring answers

Except of how to turn

Into a happy dancer

Who grows into a child

For no particular reason,

Unfreezes spring butterfly

Out of winter season?

Listen – hear melodies

Inside you, sing along!

Your secret key for music

Will turn a motor on!

And you will dance again,

All sweaty, off your butt,

Your genie kundalini

Will spiral from down up,

Happy like all children

In any given season!

- Anya Zontova

1st Draft Montreal 2001,

2nd Draft on top of the page

MP3 of voice recording of my songs

HERE

My Story From Across the World... and Beyond.

SEE MORE ON:

http://home.earthlink.net/~annazontova/ (Career / photos in USA and Russia)http://home.earthlink.net/~compassroseart/id1.html (Bсе мои сайты / All my links)http://desyatka10.livejournal.com/ (My Live Journal)

dirty, ramshackle but it’s my own…

– Ismo Alanko

Silloin kun en osaa kontroloida