There is a graphite filter outside the window, but it is fresh air and not raining yet. I eat a yummy tart with the last strawberries. The smell of a cinnamon candle is in the kitchen, sunflower petals on the tablecloth, and autumn socks with hedgehogs, squirrels, leaves, and forest mushrooms on the sofa. I haven’t published anything on the blog for a long time, although I consistently write in my journal, if necessary, even at 5 am. But there are just scraps of feelings, fears, little joys, or gray clouds that cover the light, sometimes. Because in October, a time of change is hitting the blue door of my current port.Continue reading
I want to put light on the small things, like a cup of coffee on the table and the memory of somebody’s touch on this cup. These ordinary things are important because they are always with us, independently of the places we live in.
– so said Keyvan Sarreshteh – a multi-disciplinary artist based in Tehran. The author of the performances: Stage Direction, and Apart-ment. Those plays caught my attention the most during New Narratives – an online showcase of contemporary Iranian theatre organized by my friends Sepehr Sharifzadeh and Raha Rajabi from NH Theatre Agency. I have described this event in the June article. Now, I invite you for the first interview with an interesting artist I met.Continue reading
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.Continue reading
A few days before Christmas Eve, the rain drips into the morning coffee. Graphite sky instead of the ceiling in the kitchen.Continue reading
One afternoon, Destined / Namienionô – a bilingual poetry book by Małgorzata Wątor fell through the letter slot in the blue door of my apartment in Galway, Ireland. A first poem called to me in the corridor yet.Continue reading
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 reading
The morning has the taste of dates
nostalgic and quite rough.
The rain is dripping into the coffee
– a friend who listensmy 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
Twelve years ago I met a city inlet of the Atlantic, full of shimmering colours, sincere tolerance, songs flowing to the heart – and the loud cries of seagulls. Then I thought that I would like to live here someday. After some years, the fleeting vision turned into reality. I have lived in Galway for seven years.Continue reading