I cannot imagine my life without a bike. Ever since I can remember, the bicycle has always motivated me to the adventure. Even if I was riding to the store on the same street.
Continue readingHow does a bicycle give me wings in everyday life?
Posts tagged alone
Time for an autumn bike
On a blue bike, fitted into a moss saddle, we will find our way
There is already autumn in Galway. September painted the leaves red, coppery and yellow at the University Park.
Continue readingOn the hike to Carrantuohill – sheep, elephants and myself
You should not go to the mountains alone. Because you never know what might suddenly happen. A woman who stayed with us last year also said that she would be fine on the hike to Carrantuohill, but she got stuck in a crack and had to be rescued by helicopter.
-so said John, when I announced that tomorrow I am going to the mountains alone. And he was right, but my desire to climb was stronger than fear that the wind would blow me off the ridge of the higgest mountain of Ireland.
Continue readingCosmos of Ciara Beckers
I am not looking for, I use what I have around me. When I see something then my ideas born, but also everything starts from myself.
Ciara Beckers is a young artist and in my opinion artist – pioneer because she explores the thing which nobody seems to notice. Her art is very simple but also a bit of surrealistic. I met Ciara last year at the Tiny Traders Village market. While we met again for an interview, I thought that she has something similar to Salvador Dali who was fascinated with revealing deepest ego.
Continue readingThe Lost Flowers of Alice Hart
For women who doubt the worth and power of their story
– detication from the book
Today for the first time on my blog I present a prose and for the second time I mention Australia. “The Lost Flowers of Alice Hart “ – is Holly Ringland’s debut novel. 415 pages that I read almost in one breath, over exactly two afternoons.
Continue readingDo It Yourself – Australian birds in my kitchen
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.
Continue readingYour own ritual
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).
Continue reading“Glimpses” – poems which take you for travel
“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.
Continue readingKiss of life
Hold the light, it’s inside and will be there day or night
– sang Bert Sommer at the Woodstock festival.
I have no idea how it happens but when I am really resigned and I can not see the sun in my life, even if the sun shines outside the window. When the darkness wants to grab me, then unexpectedly something blue gives me a kiss.
Continue readingVoids which are inside us
The door to my house is blue. In the hall, yellow sneakers would like to go somewhere, but no one puts them on. Only the orange rocks from the painting by Roderic O’Connor look at them.
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