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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Until recently I was sporadically wearing dresses, but thanks to the stormy weather that is raging in Galway day by day and also a gale in my head I discovered that if I put on a colourful dress, I can feel the spring even in the middle of winter.
You probably noticed that the weather often appears in my articles. Eh, it’s impossible to hide, that in Ireland meteorological conditions can be really depressing. Through the months of grey clouds, I have been dizzy since morning and often I don’t want to go outside.
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– Theatre is complicated because is about our everyday moods, emotions and fears
– so said Emmauel Demarcy-Mota, director of one of the stage in Paris during the press conference in Sibiu, Romania which I have attended.
If you follow my blog you know that last summer, I spent almost a month as a volunteer at the Sibiu International Theatre Festival, the biggest theatre festival on the world. Where I have been writing reports about volunteers work and I helped the artists to organise shows on the main square. During this time I met so many charismatic people from cultural field, but I wrote almost nothing about theatre. I wondered why?
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I think blogging is like travelling through life: a cloudburst, a gale, mud, warm wind, coolness, logs underfoot, surprises around the corner, bagels for breakfast, coffee, lots of coffee.
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When I make Christmas cards I become a child again.
I see how is snowing at night from my childhood and can hear the creak of wooden floor from the living room. Christmas tree is situated on a sideboard, which my grandfather found after the second war on the Warsaw’s street.
Moment shines, the street is white at night and I am waiting with the nose stuck to the window.
I cut images from the paper, the same, which I have in my memory. Then attach ribbons, buttons, and I wear elks in a crochet scarfs.
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I left to miss you,
I left because when I was close I could not see what I had
– sings Bebe, a Spanish singer, in the next cloudy day in Galway. I watch a videoclip, where she climbs on the sunny Sierra Morena mountains, dragging a tiny box with a few things behind it.
And I listen to the Lack around me.
Lack of sun, Lack of orange huge sofa, Lack of perfect job, lack of space for shoes, lack of coffee from 37 West, lack of Wroclaw, lack of ticket to Lisbon, lack of meeting with a friend (…)
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I live near the river Corrib in Galway. She goes out from the lake about the same name like her.
I like to observe how she flows. Sometimes I peek at her from the bridge, when I go to the city. Another day I come closer and then can see what is at her edge. I love to sit on a bench in the front of her or in the grass and just meditate or drink coffee. Sometimes I even carry dinner from home to eat with her.
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I found this question on the wall on the one of main square in Galway when I was sitting in the bus. I took the photo and after month, suddenly, this pictures makes me wonder: what lifts me in my life, in ordinary days?
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Life consists many charming details, even kitchen towels can make us smile and inspire us to do something.
In Moycullen, a village, around 15 minutes by car from the blue door of our house in Galway, there is a great coffee shop. I find there the best tarts in the a world – white chocolate with juicy raspberries, and I am delighted to look at the magic assortment of the little store, which is a part of this Cafe. I discover sunny mugs with inscriptions, grandma’s cups, teapot hats, greeting cards, marmalade jars and jungle aprons.
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