Summer's first kiss

Two things have gone wrong considering this post:

a) originally it was meant to be a "morning post" and now it's already lunchtime

b) the title of the post should be Spring's first kiss, as is the title of this drawing I did. But since it took me too long to add some finishing touches to it, the summer has already come. And there we go. Daily post in the nice summer day. It did come a bit fast, but hey, no winter socks, jackes, hoodies and millions of layers and layers and layers. 

Today it feels like going out, sitting in the park somewhere with a friend or two and just enjoying the day. But since I've got exams coming up, I've already done the "drinking in the park" thing two days ago. With a frind of mine we were enjoying good wine next to the sea shore, soaking in the sun, celebrating just about eveything that came to mind- make-up, pretty boys, summer dresses and the victory in the W.W.II, since it was a national Day of fighting against the occupying forces. 

 And to soak in even more feeling, it's time for some nostalgia and for a little piece 

of this story i wrote a while back...somehow in a place and time like this. When all 

was in bloom...

 »Pridi z mano,« mi je rekel malo pred tem, ko sem ponovno sanjala z odprtimi očmi, in strmela v večerno nebo ob mraku, ki se je prvič, odkar sem prispela, odelo v barve sončnega zahoda. Vsedel se je nasproti mene, mi podal cigaret in rekel : »V Pariz Juga.« Hotela sem mu dopovedati, naj ne pretirava, da sva že tam, in da se meni nikamor ne hodi. A se ni pustil prepričati. »Poglej,« je vstal in z roko zaobjel vse mesto, ki je ležalo skrivnostno in močno v večernih urah, pod paleto mogočnih barv v rokah mojstra umetnosti. »Vse to je lahko tvoje,« je naredil premor in se naslonil na ograjo. »Vse to je lahko najino,« se je sklonil bliže k meni, me pogladil po laseh in zašepetal na uho. »Tam zunaj te čaka prava Nola... Le zajadrati je treba, le prijeti moraš mojo roko, in odjadrala bova čez vrhove hiš...«. Strmel je vame s tistimi svojimi očmi, ki bi lahko bile oči otroka in starca obenem. Zazrle so se mi v dno prsnega koša in osvetlile že zdavnaj pozabljene ostanke, ruševine in razbitine, kot podmornica. In tako sem se po dolgem času ponovno vrnila v Nolo. Tako, kot sem jo spoznala ze prvič.«

 ==

 The sun is hot on my neck as I observe
     The spikes of the crocus.
     The smell of the earth is good.
     It is apparent that there is no death.

(Spring, Edna St. Vincent Millay)

World Book Day

As far as my memory goes, I've always had a little piece of my heart dedicated to books. And for a long time I just refused to admit that I read, because most of my classmates just never had. My grandpa was mostly my that-one-figure-with-a-good-taste-for-books-and-movies.

The books, you know, the books and more books......

At my grandparnets' house there is this room I claimed my own. It's full of books; war novels, romance stuff, different theoretical books, some on gardening, some on photography, encyclopedias, everything! And at night when I turned off the lights I could hear them, whispering stories od Napoleon times, Russian battles, girls in pretty dresses and lords on horses...And that room was (well, is) still my favourite in that house. And the smell of it and the smell of old books which my grandparents had been collecting for a long time...

And what I really wanted to say here was that this library that I regularly visit, was giving away books for free today (duh! it's the world book day), and I have to say, there weren't only ancient ones that most of us would just never need ever, but I found some very good ones, as you can see on the photo; Woolf, Gorky, Wharton, a book of fairy-tales in german, which might be useful for a) improving my german, or b) my students for practicing german pronounciation. So yay! Well and I found some more. It was a great catch!

And just to conclude, I tought quoting Мари́на Цвета́ева (Tsvetaeva, a russian poet) would be good for the occasion:

There are books so alive that you're always afraid that while you weren't reading, the book has gone and changed, has shifted like a river; while you went on living, it went on living too, and like a river moved on and moved away. No one has stepped twice into the same river. But did anyone ever step twice into the same book?

In the beginning there was one...

 

So here it is...my first typical, usual not special first blog post. For the rainy afternoon and candle-lit, dark and cozy room. I wrote a little something for the occasion:

"V moji sobi gorijo sveče. V temno modrem večeru na ulici rahlo prši in vse naokoli se plete pajčevina preteklosti iz knjige o smrti, pajčevina vsega, kar v tem trenutku sem in kar me obdaja, kar me sestavlja in navdušuje, žalosti in pozablja. Zaprem oči, ko po turško sedim na postelji, se zravnam in pogledam  nekam gor, tema, ki jo vidim, riše lepe neprepoznavne oblike, ki bi lahko bile tudi ognjeni zajci divjeoranžnih zubljev tiste velike sveče na mojem oknu. Ali pa iz tvojih oči. Ko strmim navzgor me objamejo tvoje roke, čutim njihovo toploto na trebuhu in čutim tvojo toploto na hrbtu. Tvojo sapo na mojem vratu, tvoje ustnice na rami. Življenje se je zadnje čase malo obrnilo, tako da se je moj svet razcvetel, in spet ga vonjam, vidim, diham, predvsem pa čutim, in to precej izrazito. Tišina tega, kar nočem slišati in zvok vsega ostalega kar hočem. Trpek čaj mi pušča kislo sled po požiralniku, glavobol se je umaknil nekam v ozadje...če nočem, ga ne čutim več. in ta pajčevina okoli mene je še lepša, če ugasnem luč, kajti srebrno in nežno rumeno se zasvetlika v soju sveč in vonju cimeta. Današnji večer je pravi za sanjarjenje. Kako lepo pa je še toliko bolj, ker si ni treba čisto vsega izmisliti. Manjka mi le še dovoljenje prižgati cigareto v postelji in vse bi bilo popolno. Tudi to, da te trenutno ni tukaj, je dovolj lepo, ker malo vseeno si. "

image: BootsNGus