The sun a sullen distant heatless disc – wrote Colm Keegan Irish poet in his “January Train”. Because dull, voiceless, gray, heavy, gloomy, lethargic – they are the words which can describe January in Ireland. And I was already preparing a text about dark days and my blue mood. Meanwhile, the sun woke up and brightened up our local world, though not for all days.
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This post is about a fantastic card making workshop but also to memory Wave Makers community we created in Galway during recent years.
In early December one of Wave Maker Tana Kundek came up with the idea to meet together to make Christmas cards because she loves art & craft. I am a handmade cards lover too, so I helped her with the organization. Our best manager Elena Toniato took care of everything. She was always the ignition of our community.
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Colorful lights on the Christmas tree are breathing. Tap water drips in the silence. Under the warm yellow light from the lamp, dust shines instead of snow. I haven’t posted anything on the blog for a long time, but I really wanted to be offline without fitting into any templates. It grew as easy in me as un-shaved eyebrows. And I like it.
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Instead of unpacking the boxes in our new living room, we are going to Limerick, a city on the River Shannon, 85 km from Galway, which I really like. The rain is falling more and more, but I have a striped umbrella and it fits the colorful Limerick doors in Victorian townhouses. On the fence of the “People’s Park” we are welcomed by pictures of the inhabitants, and under the autumn trees, there are sculptures of painted horses.
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But if you tame me
it will be as if the sun
came to shine on my life
Antoine’a de Saint-Exupéry “The Little Prince”
My colleagues at work collected a considerable amount of bubble wrap for me. Now I can cover photo frames safely in it, and yellow bowls like a Lisbon tram, a ceramic bird, or a coffee machine. Then, carry them to a new home.
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I never know where life will surprise me on a regular Friday. The weather is not the worst, but gray clouds are flying in my head. However in the early afternoon, after work, I am looking for an outstanding sandwich and good coffee. Though it would be best to use a time machine and move elsewhere.
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There is a graphite filter outside the window, but it is fresh air and not raining yet. I eat a yummy tart with the last strawberries. The smell of a cinnamon candle is in the kitchen, sunflower petals on the tablecloth, and autumn socks with hedgehogs, squirrels, leaves, and forest mushrooms on the sofa. I haven’t published anything on the blog for a long time, although I consistently write in my journal, if necessary, even at 5 am. But there are just scraps of feelings, fears, little joys, or gray clouds that cover the light, sometimes. Because in October, a time of change is hitting the blue door of my current port.
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Heavy rain is falling from the sky in Irish Galway. I come back on the bike from my work and found the package waiting for me behind the blue door. I already know what it is. Everything goes very fast from Aleksandrów Kujawski. Because these letters are driven by the passion of the founder of the Literary Festival in Łazieniec Biała Lokomotywa (White Locomotive) and my friend, Daria Danuta Lisiecka. For the 20th anniversary of the Polish National Poets Meetings, Daria has prepared a beautiful album.
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Continue readingAnd all the roads that lead you there were winding
And all the lights that light the way are blinding
There are many things that
I would like to say to you but I don’t know how
(…)
Oasis “Wonderwall”
Not everything that is possible can be understood by human
S.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.
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