The waves are rough on the coral beach today. They crash joyfully against the rocks after yesterday’s full moon. Children run, jump, and burst with laughter. The sky is a fantastic blue.
Continue readingPaper Sun and The Brigid Doll
Meditation with a swollen cheek
‘I can be with life just as it is.’
I wake up in the morning and peek through the blinds to see what color the sky is today. It’s usually black at 4:30am But on Saturday, it’s the color of denim. Then it dissolves into a bluish gray. And before 10:00, the white blue shimmer.
Continue readingArgentine Short Films
The Criollo is a horse from the Pampas, the vast, grassy, and fertile plains in the heart of Argentina. A symbol of freedom, independence, and endurance. For such were the Gauchos – nomadic horsemen from the Pampas. Today, they are ghosts who have left behind a lasting cultural myth in Argentina. A mysterious country with the emotionality and elegance of tango.
Continue readingMorning Butterfly
Bordeaux stays with me
An angel on the Place Jean Moulin, between the trees, reveals the graphite after dark. At the bakery “Le Boulanger de l’Hôtel de Ville” I look in the mirror. The heart is honey-colored corduroy, touching the moon with a finger. Sweet chestnuts. How do we know each other?
Continue readingVincent Delerm in Bordeaux
At this concert, I cried, laughed, sang songs, transported myself to the land of childhood, saw my mother’s smile, and my friend’s tears mingled with mine. Time sparkled on my cheek. I absorbed the theater, enjoyed French, and lived in Bordeaux that night.
Merci Beaucoup!
Continue readingTranslating Sibylle Baier’s Songs
–Sybille Baier from Stuttgart was 20 years old, had a difficult life, and was prone to depression when she recorded 14 songs for herself, which she claims saved her life. She packed up those tapes and moved on to the family life, forgetting about them – Daria Danuta Lisiecka says in her program “Wyczytane do Białości” on Radio z Qltura.
Continue readingTsubaki Stationery Store
Rich is the one who is satisfied with what he has
Zen saying
I’m pausing for a moment my reading “Tsubaki Stationery Shop” because I can’t resist designing a few autumn cards for my sister and friends. From the very beginning, Ito Ogawa’s novel ignites my previously sidelined passion for letter writing and card making. Because it’s a story about a letter writer.
Continue readingDublin – ghosts, film camera and shoes
We reach Dublin Northside, and the rain stops. Magic sun peeks out from behind the cloud. Because our first stop is the Cloud Café. We sit on the veranda and gaze out at North Strand Road. Pleasant songs play in the background, and the city buzzes. A green double-decker bus floats over a stone bridge.
Continue readingI come back to Inis Meáin
October started quickly. I don’t know where it is rushing. So I try to capture this last week. I listen to the dripping rain, watch the flickering candle flame. I grind coffee beans, warmth brown like chestnuts. I am looking a fox in the garden. At the Galway market, I eat homemade sushi in the fleeting sunshine. Meanwhile a poem I write about November.
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