When I make paper collages I cut out something from inside me: dreams, emotions, the future. Then suddenly I can walk on a lavender field in a green coat. Heathers grow out of my head. The cat smells like the sun.
Following my imagination, I am looking for what I miss.
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A crow flies from tree to tree, and I want to contemplate his velvet wings. Meanwhile, the bird sits between the leafless branches on the background of the clouds. He is staring at me. Why spring is missing today? – I swallow my thought with the air and almost run along my dear path as if I were running away.
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In the Galway University Hospital framed POEMS hanging for years.
Once, when we went to the Emergency Department with my husband, we were sitting in this waiting room with poetry around. And I remember that this little help of poems broke away us from the tension of fears.
At the moment we could cross the borders without moving.
So I strongly believe, that POETRY can be caring for us during a pandemic.
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In my hut this spring,
There is nothing –
There is everything!
/Haiku, Jamaguchi Sodo/
Soft steps on the carpet, breathing, swallowing saliva, birds chirping, rain knocking on the window. I hear it when I sit down in meditation. My thoughts flow like boats on a rough ocean. Silence slowly measure an existence.
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–Hey Barista
– some people call me at work, and I value this nickname because I like to make coffee and drink it.
Recently, one customer told me that he likes coffee made exactly by me. Then I realized that the fact how I care about making each coffee makes sense.
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