random sharing

Music I Love
Dropkick Murphys - God Willing

Book I Enjoyed
Hermann Hesse - Narcissus and Goldmund

Music I Love
Andrius Mamontovas - Nidos daina

The idea of creating my own little material world was born in the spring of 2009 during a visit to Druskininkai. A friend of mine got some spaghetti splattered over his white shirt and at that moment, I began to wonder. Is it possible to have a space of your own, where if you spill wine all over the wall, you don’t need to rush and clean it off and instead just accept it as an inevitable work of art? This was the question that I wanted to answer, the very first idea. Later, I focused on developing and materializing this idea.

I’ll be honest - I didn’t expect to make this idea come to life as soon as in half a year. I thought I’d get back to it in 5-6 years time. But then I realized that there’s always the possibility that I’ll no longer be in this ever-changing world that far in the future.

As the location for implementing my idea, which was also going to be my living space, I chose a garage. That’s right, my dear readers, this may sound like a joke but I’m dead serious. At first, the practical implementation of my idea, as can be expected, wasn’t too charming. Although there’s always some charm in everything, really.

I rented a garage in the capital of Lithuania and began working on it. Of course, there was no water supply in the garage, so I had to drag 5-liter bottles of water from a shopping center that was a 15-minute walk away. I poured the water over the floor and kept scrubbing and scrubbing but still couldn’t see any signs of improvement. So, the first night in my garage was spent on shopping bags spread out on the dirty concrete floor, with Thus Spoke Zarathrusta of Friedrich Nietzsche to keep me company. It was summertime but I must admit, I got cold. I began to wonder what winter was going to be like.

From then on, my life in the garage got better with every passing day. At first, I covered the floors with a plastic film used for greenhouses, then I used a 6-square-meter rug that I got from student dormitories. One by one, a mattress, blanket, and pillow appeared. My whole life, my whole world was on that six-square-meter stage that was soon filled with all of my stuff and papers. All I would do in the space beyond the rug was brush my teeth because the remaining 12 square meters were pretty much a dirty, forbidden forest. Many people don’t realize how complicated the process of brushing your teeth can be. They have no idea the amount of joy continuous improvements in this field can bring.

As the evening was approaching, when a dozen of my friends felt the need to see for themselves how a person can settle in a garage and they all needed to share the 18 square meters of my garage, I realized that I needed another rug. But the point wasn’t in the rug. The point was in the story of how I got it. Imagine seeing a young man at 3 am carrying an enormous rug in the middle Vilnius. Well, there’s no need for me to imagine it because due to certain circumstances, I had to drag that rug for two hours like a true Sisyphus. But in the end, I did expand my stage in the garage!

But enough of the details of how I settled in. They’re not the main point here.

One night, I come home from either the city or the university library completely exhausted. Come on, Andrius Romaska, just one song before sleep, just one. I turn on my so-called “concert” lamp and go on until three or four in the morning. I forget everything. The amazingly-lit garage walls absorb the sound of my guitar, harmonica, and sonorous voice. Once I pull myself out of the trance-like state I had been in for several hours, I happily jump onto my mattress and after a couple of hours of sleep, return to the real world, back to other people. They don’t know my secret. Every single night, the walls of my world kept whispering to me, “just play one song and go to sleep”. There wasn’t a single night that I didn’t give in. Not a single night that I played just one improvisation. Oh, those charming deceivers!

Another inseparable part of my life in the garage was the cold. I loved it. The cold was always one of my favorite remaining natural pleasures in this world. My living space was perfect for helping me adapt my body to low temperatures. Of course, this process wasn’t exactly easy or fun. When it was negative 15 degrees Celcius outside, it would be just about 3 or 4 degrees in my little world. Sleeping in such temperatures would sometimes become very unpleasant. I even had trouble playing music because, after a few songs, my fingers would completely lose proper function and wouldn’t listen to any of the signals I’d send them. One of my ears also began to protest. I got an ear infection. But still, I couldn’t imagine my life without the cold back them, just like I can’t now, either.

You may be wondering what this period of my life has to do with traveling. Let me answer you with a question - do you think that journeys can only be measured in kilometers, meters, and centimeters? If so, you’re wasting your time reading this. Throughout this journey, I became closer to myself. I was the destination of this journey. The same destination that many people forget by denying their own existence without even noticing it.

Personal spaces are very important. Not necessarily in the form of a garage, not necessarily material.

The idea of creating my own little material world was born in the spring of 2009 during a visit to Druskininkai. A friend of mine got some spaghetti splattered over his white shirt and at that moment, I began to wonder. Is it possible to have a space of your own, where if you spill wine all over the wall, you don’t need to rush and clean it off and instead just accept it as an inevitable work of art? This was the question that I wanted to answer, the very first idea. Later, I focused on developing and materializing this idea.

I’ll be honest - I didn’t expect to make this idea come to life as soon as in half a year. I thought I’d get back to it in 5-6 years time. But then I realized that there’s always the possibility that I’ll no longer be in this ever-changing world that far in the future.

As the location for implementing my idea, which was also going to be my living space, I chose a garage. That’s right, my dear readers, this may sound like a joke but I’m dead serious. At first, the practical implementation of my idea, as can be expected, wasn’t too charming. Although there’s always some charm in everything, really.

I rented a garage in the capital of Lithuania and began working on it. Of course, there was no water supply in the garage, so I had to drag 5-liter bottles of water from a shopping center that was a 15-minute walk away. I poured the water over the floor and kept scrubbing and scrubbing but still couldn’t see any signs of improvement. So, the first night in my garage was spent on shopping bags spread out on the dirty concrete floor, with Thus Spoke Zarathrusta of Friedrich Nietzsche to keep me company. It was summertime but I must admit, I got cold. I began to wonder what winter was going to be like.

From then on, my life in the garage got better with every passing day. At first, I covered the floors with a plastic film used for greenhouses, then I used a 6-square-meter rug that I got from student dormitories. One by one, a mattress, blanket, and pillow appeared. My whole life, my whole world was on that six-square-meter stage that was soon filled with all of my stuff and papers. All I would do in the space beyond the rug was brush my teeth because the remaining 12 square meters were pretty much a dirty, forbidden forest. Many people don’t realize how complicated the process of brushing your teeth can be. They have no idea the amount of joy continuous improvements in this field can bring.

As the evening was approaching, when a dozen of my friends felt the need to see for themselves how a person can settle in a garage and they all needed to share the 18 square meters of my garage, I realized that I needed another rug. But the point wasn’t in the rug. The point was in the story of how I got it. Imagine seeing a young man at 3 am carrying an enormous rug in the middle Vilnius. Well, there’s no need for me to imagine it because due to certain circumstances, I had to drag that rug for two hours like a true Sisyphus. But in the end, I did expand my stage in the garage!

But enough of the details of how I settled in. They’re not the main point here.

One night, I come home from either the city or the university library completely exhausted. Come on, Andrius Romaska, just one song before sleep, just one. I turn on my so-called “concert” lamp and go on until three or four in the morning. I forget everything. The amazingly-lit garage walls absorb the sound of my guitar, harmonica, and sonorous voice. Once I pull myself out of the trance-like state I had been in for several hours, I happily jump onto my mattress and after a couple of hours of sleep, return to the real world, back to other people. They don’t know my secret. Every single night, the walls of my world kept whispering to me, “just play one song and go to sleep”. There wasn’t a single night that I didn’t give in. Not a single night that I played just one improvisation. Oh, those charming deceivers!

Another inseparable part of my life in the garage was the cold. I loved it. The cold was always one of my favorite remaining natural pleasures in this world. My living space was perfect for helping me adapt my body to low temperatures. Of course, this process wasn’t exactly easy or fun. When it was negative 15 degrees Celcius outside, it would be just about 3 or 4 degrees in my little world. Sleeping in such temperatures would sometimes become very unpleasant. I even had trouble playing music because, after a few songs, my fingers would completely lose proper function and wouldn’t listen to any of the signals I’d send them. One of my ears also began to protest. I got an ear infection. But still, I couldn’t imagine my life without the cold back them, just like I can’t now, either.

You may be wondering what this period of my life has to do with traveling. Let me answer you with a question - do you think that journeys can only be measured in kilometers, meters, and centimeters? If so, you’re wasting your time reading this. Throughout this journey, I became closer to myself. I was the destination of this journey. The same destination that many people forget by denying their own existence without even noticing it.

Personal spaces are very important. Not necessarily in the form of a garage, not necessarily material.

random stories

Naivety. 2008.

The Blooming Trains. 2013.

Senses. 2014.