Not everything that is possible can be understood by humanS.Lem “Eden”
I’ve always found machines soulless. However, life surprised me with another poetic detail in a place that is supposed to be non-poetic. But how Edward Stachura used to say: Everything is poetry.
On Sunday morning I make scrambled eggs with fresh basil and olive oil. And the first song which I hear is called Yellow.
Look at the stars
Look how they shine for you
and everything you doColdplay “Yellow”
People who appear in my life are like stars. They make streams of light illuminate various spaces during my journey. Old and new friends.
You feel mighty free and easy and comfortable on a raft.Mark Twain
On a warm afternoon, Marisol, Jacek, Marcin and I, arrive at Menlo Pier, just 4 km from Galway. Jim Morrissey from Kayakmór sits on the bench in front of the water, we say hello and we keep waiting for a few more people. Behind the car, we change into wetsuits, put on matching life jackets. Yellow, orange, red, and blue kayaks gleam on the shore against the background of the sweet flag.
Low lie the fields of Athenry
Where once we watched the small free birds fly
Our love was on the wing we had dreams and songs to singFrom song Fields of Athenry
When after a long time I dared on a solo trip outside Galway, I met an adventure that I had never dreamed about. On Sunday morning, I packed my blue bike onto the train and went to Athenry, only two stops. Next, I headed by Tuam Road to Castle Ellen House, for the exhibition ‘Town and Country.
Recently I made a brooch for a woman who loves airplanes. When I cut from felt the first plane in my life and sewed it with a purple thread on a black square, I remembered how much I like making and wearing brooches. Fall leaves, umbrellas, fat cats, birds, butterflies, vintage phones, doggies, and strawberries. Shapes took out from reality sprinkled with feelings and meetings.
I want to put light on the small things, like a cup of coffee on the table and the memory of somebody’s touch on this cup. These ordinary things are important because they are always with us, independently of the places we live in.
– so said Keyvan Sarreshteh – a multi-disciplinary artist based in Tehran. The author of the performances: Stage Direction, and Apart-ment. Those plays caught my attention the most during New Narratives – an online showcase of contemporary Iranian theatre organized by my friends Sepehr Sharifzadeh and Raha Rajabi from NH Theatre Agency. I have described this event in the June article. Now, I invite you for the first interview with an interesting artist I met.
Transparent rain outside the window. Early in the morning, I bustle with the light from the blue chandelier. Coffee ground into the sand of July tastes like simplicity. I eat strawberries with yogurt, honey, oat bran, black sesame, and almond flakes.
At magical Kenneys Bookshop & Art Gallery, I had no idea I was walking over to a bookshelf with poetry. I realized it when I pulled a thin publication from the shelf with the interesting title The Elephant in the Corner. The poems it contained reminded me of the taste of every morning coffee I drunk on a graphite sofa or in completely unfamiliar chairs. Aoife Mannix – an Irish poet born in Sweden knows the smell of rented furniture and she does not afraid to present emotions that I am sometimes scared to admit, although they live with me.
On a summer afternoon, we met at Nimmo’s Pier in Galway. River Corrib in Claddagh Quay flowed calmly and was a deep blue color. We took bags and litter keepers, which were brought by Tiarnan McCusker – Galway City Environmental Awareness Officer. I had gloves from a few previous coastal clean-up with Wave Makers. We parked our bikes next to the meadow and moved towards blue and green.
Dominick Street in Galway is bustling with an old-school glow. The chief carries a tray full of eggs from one cafe to another. Beer kegs meditate on the sidewalk in front of a yellow door with a rustic knocker.