By Dora Mezo
Dora interviewing legendary Scottish actor Brian Cox for FUNZINE Magazine
It took me about 20 years to find out what I wanted to do with my life. At times, it seemed like an eternity. As I look back now, I consider myself unbelievably lucky because I can say that I did find it in the end, when many people live a lifetime without knowing, without even wondering what their vocation may be.
I used to hate reading. I've always loved literature, but when it came to actually skimming through a novel, I rather went for the shortened version. Poetry touched me at an early age: I must have been twelve or so when I came up with the first few rhyming lines. I felt like the first human on Earth, being able to make fire. Till this day, that sparkling feeling hasn’t faded. But life didn’t stop, of course, I was heading to a future that didn’t involve any sort of writing and the idea of scribbling for a living was simply out of the picture for a fairly long time.
I started to develop a certain longing for having my thoughts and feelings put into words. Just like in many cases, my first source of inspiration was love: the childish, the keen, the lost and unfulfilled, later the gained, the fought: the kind that starts to transform into something better or worse as the days, weeks, years pass by. It was only recently, that I started to feel like I don’t want to write about love anymore. There are all sorts of feelings in the world, so many impressions and desires that were neglected by me. I have written a whole book of poems for the first serious man in my life. We lived together for three years and I kept writing romantic notes until almost the very end of the relationship. And though things didn’t turn out the way we assumed they would, I still cherish these pieces as they mark a truly significant part of my life. That led me to the conclusion I was looking for: in my way of thinking, poetry has to form a picture of your current mind-set and draw the contours of your personality at the same time. But let me rewind my storyline a bit…
I got into college in 2011, I was studying to be an English teacher. Thanks to my mom, who’s always been wired into the language, I got my first vocabulary book at the age of 5. As I had absolutely no plans – nor I felt the need to make any – teaching English for kids seemed like a decent idea. In a couple of months I had to realize though, that I could not have been further from what I should do with my life. The only problem was that I didn’t really know what I wanted to do. I just felt like I had to take a step and look around before it would be too late. I didn’t want to get stuck in a life that wasn’t really designed for me. (And I would have been an absolutely horrible teacher, anyway!)
To end my confusion, I packed my huge suitcase, had a difficult conversation with my parents, then left my home country and moved to London. I lived there for a year and spent almost all of my spare time trying to figure out who I am and what I’m made of. It was a lonely process, so when I was passing by a little bookshop around the corner one day, I thought I might get a few books. Miraculously, at the age of 20, the undying hunger for reading emerged and I believe now that it will never leave my side. I basically started to paint a whole new picture about my life and when I moved back to Hungary – after trying to get into acting school – I decided to stick with journalism. I’ve got plenty of help along the way and I did need a lot of support: I was working full-time, went to classes on weekends, worked for free as an intern for months and then I had three jobs simultaneously and could hardly pay the bills. After struggling for about 4 years, I got a job at a Budapest based English speaking magazine. We cover a wide range of topics and just the work itself still thrills me to this day.
As I changed during these last few years, my connection to writing kept changing as well. I became more present, more aware of myself and what I would like to capture in a poem or a novel. I used to think I was a strange person, a real misfit. Now, I hope I can meet many people along the way who felt just as weird at some point of their lives. For those of you, who are still out there, searching for your truest self, I‘d like to tell you: it’s fine to be odd and unusual, it’s fine to keep writing silly poems on the side of your history book or feel like you have way too many emotions at the same time, because you might just have been born with a heart that is double the size of the average person!
You have to work a lot to achieve something – I was recently promoted to be the managing editor of the magazine. Knowing that I have been here for only a year, it seemed like a huge step and it still makes me feel good and appreciated. But never satisfied, I know I still have a long way to go; new ideas, projects, my poetry blog and I always think about what I should do next. Even when I’m on holiday or have time to relax, I always have a notepad next to my bed, to make sure no ideas will be forgotten… I don’t consider myself a workaholic, but I do believe that if you want something in this life, you either do it with 100% and give it the best you can, or don’t bother to do it at all. There’s no in-between.
Someone asked me once how it felt to have a creative mind. I tried to come up with a picturesque explanation and I got to the following: Since I was a child, whatever I did and wherever I went, the world around me has been much more vivid, looking like a photo with increased saturation. There is a certain music inside me that I hang on to. Call it my inner voice or the soul, I call it the spark. And once you discover what wakes you up in the morning and makes you go the extra mile, you will never want to let go of that precious feeling, because it can add such incredible things to your life! Later on, you will say that every inch of distance, every hour worked, pain suffered or injustice endured – it was all worth it.
There will always be another thing to write about. A new colour, a feeling or just an observation you make as you walk along the street in the morning. The way someone looks at you or how the warm air escapes from your afternoon tea in the fading daylight.
I would like to end my article with the first poem bymepoetry.com featured on their site – I’m still grateful beyond words for their kind encouragement!