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.
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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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He is a painter, his job is to paint. For himself, for painting, because that is his vocation, because he would not be able to not transform what he sees into the painting works.
– wrote Henri Perruchot in the book “Cézanne”.
This is one of my favourite publications. It made me want to go to Aix-de-Provence, a small town in France, where a boy was born, who at the age of five scribbled with charcoal on the walls of what surrounding him, and people were surprised how realistic it was.
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I run along the river, again. The morning flows under my skin. The sun sketches relief in grey cells.
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A crow flies from tree to tree, and I want to contemplate his velvet wings. Meanwhile, the bird sits between the leafless branches on the background of the clouds. He is staring at me. Why spring is missing today? – I swallow my thought with the air and almost run along my dear path as if I were running away.
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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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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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Galway is Irish city inlet of Atlantic. City full of shimmering colours, heavy rain, sincere tolerance, culs-de-sacs, flowing to the heart songs, and loud cry of gulls. My no perfect city with some spaces, which make really antidepressant effects. One of them is:
PLEASURE coffee and vinyls records.