Is sadness blue? Can you hear it at Shinjuku station in the heart of Tokyo? Or does it become a leaf in the ginkgo avenue? Does it always hurt? It’s impossible to capture. Because it likes to hide in a song, or warm up when we drink cold coffee from a can. It’s a part of our lives. And according to writer Nanae Aoyoma, it can also be cheering.
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Continue reading(…) my memory
if I don’t keep you in it
we will disappear forever
from song “disappearing”
Tears well up in my eyes. I feel like I’m hiding somewhere, like a nine-year-old Raj. Meanwhile, I check the map to see where Mapou is, and then Beau-Bassin. I discover that trams run through this city today.
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‘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.
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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.
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It’s a pleasant June raining. I’m sitting in my tiny garden, splash, splash, splash – replies the cloudburst. The cat also listens and smells fresh drops. Lobelia becomes even pinker. And in five minutes my bare feet are already warmed by joyful rays.
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‘evening hysteria‘
one white moth is a symbol
that life is more important than fear
discipline hurts the child
it is bad deadly fun
life is usually like a cliche
each moment and risk of moment
protect the moth and the white hour
where you would find nothing or everything
I run with this poem at 6 in the morning. The dawn is not so dark anymore. On bus 409, I sit down in my usual seat and open “A Thousand Genious Galaxies” by Justyna Paluch.
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I come home from work with Marta and Wiktor, the road is illuminated by the sun, and the minutes are alive by Wierd Fishes, the song of RADIOHEAD. Pretty soon I get off at Tesco and run through the narrow streets to my hairdresser Helena. After an hour, I leave with an artistically tousled haircut that I love. I feel blissful and drop into Marks & Spencer, where I get an orange facial wash and sage to sprinkle my afternoon toasts. But I have no idea, that I’ll read poems by John Keats English Romantic poet. Because when I enter my apartment, there is a package from Baśka, waiting for me. The book with poems together with Jane Campion’s film “Bright Star”.
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There is a gray December Saturday in Irish Galway, but no rain, so people walk around smiling. The Italian cafe is busy, and suddenly I remember that I haven’t been to Dominik Street in a long time. So we go there with my friend Aga and as if by magic we land in France.
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„We’re cosmonauts
Can I stay with you inside your brain
That way
We won’t be alone”
-so wrote Jamila Faber of Leeuwarden in the Netherlands in her poem. I discovered her, among other authors, in the album “Europe at Home”, where my text was also published.
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