Posts tagged happiness

The Friendship of Art and Science – an interview with Dr Grazia Marsico

You are a light-bearer

Receiving radiance from others

Flickiering sun flame

Unpolished earth in the palm of hand

-so sings Björk in the song Solistice on her album Biophilia which is like science-influenced meditations. We all were waiting for a vaccine but also wanted to find a way to relax where the pandemic started. Science and art, bring light to our life. Dr Grazia Marsico told me about their beautiful relationship.

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Wander Woman

May the road rise up to meet you. May the wind be always at your back.

Irish proverb

Summer in Ireland has 14 degrees, and rain is usually on hand. However, there is some unusual feature of this country that always makes me feel that I am on the way. Because when I discover new beaches, various types of flowers and grasses, and visit fishing villages like Kinvara, I experience the magic and the weather does not determine it.

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Paradise Found In Ireland

When the sun is shining, Connemara looks like a fairy-tale land. Lush green spills onto the road like a cocktail of parsley and kiwi. It mixes with navy streams and sea-pink Armeria Maritima for several dozen kilometers. Magic mountains reign under the sky, and at their foot the most beautiful turquoise I have ever seen is glazed.

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Beaches of Connemara on a stormy day

There’s no such thing as bad weather, only unsuitable clothing

Alfred Wainwright

The force of the wind on the Beaufort scale is nine, a little tree knocked over on some balcony in Galway. I prepare sandwiches and pour coffee into tourist mugs. We put on hoodies, jackets, hats, I take gloves, even it is May. Dauntless sneakers are ready for the adventure. The songs by Polish band T.Love sound in the car, so memories mix with the N59 road, and beige hills with newborn sheep hug their mums on the fields. Long before Clifden, we turn right to the Connemara National Park. The direction is three beautiful beaches.

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Let’s senses grow sharper for May

The world is full of magic, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper

W.B. Yeats

I admit as poet W.B. Yeats wrote. Although sometimes I think that I would hide inside myself, and not to look anymore, or dream. However, life goes on and it does not care about my concepts, plans, and fears. It just wanders and catches my hand with it every day. It gives me flowers on the meadow, charms me with the warm rocks on which I can lie like a lizard with the emerald ocean around. It brings me happiness in the rays that appear only for a few minutes. Do you think May is such a month that reminds us of the magic of life?

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A birthday cake on the Connemara Hills

The third lockdown in Ireland lasted almost half a year. We could only move to five kilometers. Recently, the restrictions have been relaxed a bit, and we are allowed to move within one county. Missing Connemara, I could finally visit her. On April 16, the afternoon had a warm gray color, and we went with friends to cut my Birthday cake on the hills.

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Cards & Letters – My Home Travels

Since the middle of the pandemic, I have been participating in the Amateo project “Postcard from Home”. It consists of exchanging hand-made cards and letters with the topic which is HOME. In the first stage, we wrote what home is for us, then what was and what home will be. People from all over Europe were selected randomly. I am corresponding with Paulien from the Netherlands and although the project is slowly coming to the end, we decided to keep our exchanging cards and letters.

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Everyday Poetry

The morning coffee smells like orange trees in the Doña Elvira square in Seville, although it is mystical gray outside the window. I am sitting on the sofa as on a small tiled bench. Instead of the sounds of water in the fountain, I hear the washing machine. Notebook based on corduroy legs. I can’t turn off poetry because it is my life.

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What do people love about Ireland?

Today is Paddy’s Day – the biggest Irish holiday which the whole world like to celebrate. If you have ever been to Ireland, even in the worst weather, you will leave thrilled. Well, what exactly happened? What is the phenomenon of this small island where the wind ruffles your hair every day, and the rain drips on your face? I asked different people. Irish who live here or abroad, and people of other nationalities to whom Ireland became home.

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