Slow Sunday

Sit still. Very still. The big writing started.

This is a little intro:

How I stopped worrying and decided to love a farmer.

Today is February 2013 and the world through my window looks like a quite sad place. It has been raining 7 days in a row, people rushing in a hurry look grumpy, billboards look shabby with faded colors and it is noisy: cars, buses, tramways passing by, kids playing with artificial bombs. Maybe it is winter or my neighborhood. I get carried away by my thoughts to a beautiful farm land where no billboards or noisy streets exist. I start dreaming of escaping and living in my own hacienda.

But what is wrong with my life, why I want to escape? Where and how I want to live? This is what I want to talk about: what happened to me and maybe to you in 2013 and how my hacienca, where I want to go so badly, looks like in my dream.

Working on master thesis: writing and reading letters, writing on the walls, the actual writing of thesis, staring through the window, listening to vinyls.

In the Alpes

Like many other people, I went to have some proper winter holiday time in Alpes.
I got to the skiing station, I waited in line, I measured my feet, I rented things, I waited in line again, I got on the lift chair, I got up, I took a deep breath of fresh mountain air, I got down, I tried not to hit anyone and not to get hit by anyone, and here I was back in line. While getting up again I looked at this amazing nature, trees covered in snow, curves of frost, spiky mountain peeks around and I wondered how easily now we can have an access to all that. How many thousands of people slide down these, once unreachable, slopes. How many thousands and how many times? When it became so "natural" to reach 3000 meters altitude in 20 minutes. I just felt so natural being in that lift chair, surrounded by breathtaking landscape, that all I wanted was to take my siesta nap. That is how i felt after the fourth lift. It all became the same for me: the same routine, the same structure, the same people, the same idea. I have seen it last year and a year before. What you thought was a wild nature - is not anymore. What could have been a wild adventure - is a 20 minute ride on the lift.
It was still enjoyable, but I feel that I am ready for something else now. Not for more extreme, more likely for more simple. Like a ride down that little hill behind my house on the carton piece - just to have it more real, more close to what I am in the environment where I am.
Or it is my studies that make me reconsider all these commercial structures and my own consumption and the affect it has upon the world that we live in.

Just thinking, just looking, just napping.

do it all the time

this one for Jen

Place and time determined friendship. The place is now space and time is now infinity.
During our first walk through these fields I saw you there. And here you are.

For all the morning, evening, lunch, hardware store, boat talks, river crossings, teepees, mud, candle fire settings, song exchanges, yoga and the muscle pain, unlimited imagination and motivation. Happy Birthday, have a splendid one and go to dance!

headed home

I'm sittin' in the railway station
Got a ticket for my destination

I humbled some last words, gave a confused kiss and without touching the ground got on the train. Opened a book and again read the dedication handwritten in black ink. Was it a dream or an illusion?
The darkness fell early and moon, cut precisely in half, had me on his watch all along the trip. It was the half piece of the full moon, which shone in the bedroom left behind.

And finally I'm Home.

Home, where my thought's escaping
Home, where my music's playing

Felt so excited to tell my friends the farm story. Crazy and beautiful story. And finally when the moment came I did not know where to start. And I still don't know. Chaotic fragments that cross my mind.
Cirque, steam machines, tractors, sheeps, teepee, tree house, swing rope, floating boat, reflecting waters, blue windows, blue doors, red roofs, red grounds, rain rain rain, sand, mud, clay, bricks, dust, millions of stars, bonfire, games, jokes, philosophies, gymnastics, unanswered questions, the smell of wet and burning wood, candle light, the ocean, heart beat, little hugs, big talks, laugh, laugh to tears, tears.
And so it goes.
But well.
Time shall put things in their places. It always does.

Trying to recuperate, not to over think, to grasp the present moments in any shape they come: it can be big as love or nature's beauty, or just as simple as they are : nice conversations, good home cooked food, new semester, thousands of pages to read and hundreds to write.
Even deadlines hanging over the head can be a thing to enjoy when not missed.

Had a photo shoot with the folk rock band in this foggy place. Still afraid to look at the results, the fog came every time we went out. My fingers froze though inside I was full of warmth.

Rain

Lately it has been raining and raining and raining.

But I am not bored with the rain. Love it when the drops run down my face. Love the colors it brings out. Love when it makes everybody feel so cozy being inside for warm dinner.