My life is small things.
I placed my favourite spices in the little glass jars with special inscriptions: LOVE (MIŁOŚĆ in Polish) – for the orange saffron, SUN (SŁOŃCE in Polish) – for turmeric, MAGIC (CZAR in Polish) – for black sesame seeds, FOREST (LAS in Polish) – for flax seeds.
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The phenomenon of the Sibiu International Theatre Festival in Romania goes on regardless of time. It is a sense of community of people from various countries, the openness to others, and the love of artistic activities. Last year, I was a volunteer at this festival. Now, I got a chance to participate in the conference Sibiu Performing Arts Market again.
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When I was a small I was asking “What is life, mom?”.
You see life is me and you, this bird, that tree and flower – she was answering to me.
from the song of Dżem “Naive questions”.
Summer came. Connemara has dressed in juicy green and now looks like a land of hobbits. Fragrant, soft, blissful.
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On an evening in June 2020, Sharon Watts’s illustrations take me to an America the 60s & 70s which emanated with the big changes. Dreams pour out from the stories of a reluctant hippie chick. Did Sharon meet Bob Dylan at Cafe Reggio on MacDougal Street in New York? – I wonder.
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The morning has the taste of dates
nostalgic and quite rough.
The rain is dripping into the coffee
– a friend who listens
my morning poem
I have one regular ritual in the morning for two or even three years. I sit down on a plush sofa with a cup of coffee, with nice porridge (today full of dates), and sometimes with fresh orange juice and a cat on my knees (depending on cat).
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I have published an opening blog post in June 2019, just before my flight to Romania, where the history of the Blue Tram has started.
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At 6 a.m. I was awoke by the roar of the wind. And although the curtains danced to the rhythm of this ferment, I went out as usual to run along the river.
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“Glimpses” / “Mgnienia” / by Daria Danuta Lisiecka take me to various places.
First I get off at the railway station in A. – Aleksandrów Kujawski, darling stop of a provincial town in Poland, my friend and poet waits for me there.
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This city wear jeans and spreads poems in culs-de-sacs. Here time is like the ocean, patiently shining between my fingers.
Twelve years ago I met a city inlet of the Atlantic, full of shimmering colours, sincere tolerance, songs flowing to the heart – and the loud cries of seagulls. Then I thought that I would like to live here someday. After some years, the fleeting vision turned into reality. I have lived in Galway for seven years.
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So here’s an idea for a more useful game. Next time you go for a walk, pick a bag and fill it with trash, post a picture of it and nominate other friends to do so. We all have gloves and masks, you’ll be isolated so no excuses, but please respect the quarantine restrictions. Please feel free to participate without being nominated
-so wrote Enrico Bagnoli on his Facebook profile and he has motivated others to clean up their nearest areas. He went for a walk and took a large bag full of plastic rubbish and fishing waste on the edge of the ocean.
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