Tuesday, March 24, 2009
My world is populated by magical creatures. My mind wonders through the labyrinths of creation and only comes down to praticallity when absolutely necessary. I dream of unicorns and blossoming trees, flying baloons and petals rain, tea parties and talking cats, flying on my umbrella and dressing up for the ball.
In my world I like to play up with colours and lights and movement and sounds and shapes that have never been made but have really been there forever. I hear birds and I breathe clean air and I close my ears when I don´t like what I see. My time is eternal and my body always dances, because I dress as a princess and act as an artist. I love through my skin and hear through my fingers, get muddy on rainy days and follow every rainbow. I have a secret place I carry around with me, a magical case big enough to have me inside. I close myself in it for days and days and then one afternoon wy house in invaded by what my hands made up. Water runs through my fingers as they are my magical tool, and everything that ever was is on everybody´s fingertips.
My world is magical and it sounds like singing mermaids. I hang up fairy lights and boil water for the tea. Bake my lucky chocolate biscuits and invite my friends over. Dance with my cat on a blue soap bubble, build the tree house I never had and invite the world to a party nobody will ever know about.
My world is so secret very few are invited, but promise to love it, and I'll fix up your room.
My world is not shallow, nor would I allow anyone to say such a nonsense. It is innocent and happy as life will never be though. Or is it 'as life should always be'? Or maybe I meant 'as only life can be'.
My world is not shallow, because if anything, it so terribly real. As real as my finger tips, or your nose, or my friends knees or a fairy's lucky charm.
Monday, March 02, 2009
There is a quote by a portuguese poet that says something like ´first you find it odd, then it penetrates you'. This is probably one of the worst translations ever made. The original expression refers to something that you find hard to adjust to at the beggining, but that afterwards you somehow learn to find familiar. Something that is external to you but that somehow it becomes part of you with time.
That was more or less how the english country was for me. Only that I didn´t really find it odd at the beggining, when I first got it touch with it 3,5 years ago. I loved it at first, then I got bored with it, then I think I just got used to it. And now, that I just had the opportunity to go back there, after an 8 months absence, it was like being back home in a way.
Everything was familiar and sweet. Even the dump weather seemed right. As I was being driven through east anglia´s country roads, green fields and brick houses passing by me, pheasants standing in the middle of your route, clouds over our heads and that familiar feeling of fresh air and humidity I knew there would always be a place for it in my heart. I knew I had grown to love it and cherish it. The people as well, make me smile. The expressions, the accents, their whole way of being. In a strange sort of way, I fit in, there is a place for me in there. I feel welcome in there, as much as the whole thing is more than welcome in my heart.
And then there are these dearest friends:
................just how beautiful are they???