Not everything that is possible can be understood by human
S.Lem “Eden”
I’ve always found machines soulless. However, life surprised me with another poetic detail in a place that is supposed to be non-poetic. But how Edward Stachura used to say: Everything is poetry.
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On Sunday morning I make scrambled eggs with fresh basil and olive oil. And the first song which I hear is called Yellow.
Look at the stars
Look how they shine for you
and everything you do
Coldplay “Yellow”
People who appear in my life are like stars. They make streams of light illuminate various spaces during my journey. Old and new friends.
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You feel mighty free and easy and comfortable on a raft.
Mark Twain
On a warm afternoon, Marisol, Jacek, Marcin and I, arrive at Menlo Pier, just 4 km from Galway. Jim Morrissey from Kayakmór sits on the bench in front of the water, we say hello and we keep waiting for a few more people. Behind the car, we change into wetsuits, put on matching life jackets. Yellow, orange, red, and blue kayaks gleam on the shore against the background of the sweet flag.
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Recently I made a brooch for a woman who loves airplanes. When I cut from felt the first plane in my life and sewed it with a purple thread on a black square, I remembered how much I like making and wearing brooches. Fall leaves, umbrellas, fat cats, birds, butterflies, vintage phones, doggies, and strawberries. Shapes took out from reality sprinkled with feelings and meetings.
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Transparent rain outside the window. Early in the morning, I bustle with the light from the blue chandelier. Coffee ground into the sand of July tastes like simplicity. I eat strawberries with yogurt, honey, oat bran, black sesame, and almond flakes.
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Dominick Street in Galway is bustling with an old-school glow. The chief carries a tray full of eggs from one cafe to another. Beer kegs meditate on the sidewalk in front of a yellow door with a rustic knocker.
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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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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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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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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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