Posts tagged alone

My December Cards

There is a cobalt sky behind the window, and a well-known house with a red door. Colourful lights hung on a curtain rod shine with peace. Its glow is reflected in the chocolate cup saucer.

I take out a small table and blue chopping board on it. Next to it, on the sofa, there are old magazines, extraordinary papers, scraps, and a pencil case with liners, scissors, and glue.

Continue reading

On 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 reading

Cosmos 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 reading

The Lost Flowers of Alice Hart

For women who doubt the worth and power of their story

detication from the book

Today, I can present you with prose that is like a multidimensional journey. “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 reading

Your 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