LIGHTLY

Easter break.

we've been taking it slowly,

eating well,

overdosing on chocolate.

an excursion to the sleepy town of Loviisa

with its rows of wooden houses.

Ali Smith's Spring

on the go. 

and catching up on Unforgotten

with Nicola Walker

~ she has a fan right here. 

beyond this little holiday bubble 

I'm happily cocooning in right now,

 things do seem in balance.

after a tough start to the year,

now a nice amount of work

without the stress.

a clear head

after a flu of a lifetime.

 so much LIGHT!

a date scribbled in the calendar 

for a creative shoot

that's all beauty

and about pursuing a dream of my own. 

I can easily beat myself up

for not pursuing my own thing enough,

but I'm learning to take that lightly, too.

the small steps taken with joy

leading wherever they should. 

just as long as they don't get forgotten along the way. 

“It’s dark because you are trying too hard. 

Lightly child, lightly. 

Learn to do everything lightly. 

Yes, feel lightly 

even though you’re feeling deeply. 

Just lightly let things happen 

and lightly cope with them... 

...So throw away your baggage 

and go forward. 

There are quicksands all about you, 

sucking at your feet, 

trying to suck you down 

into fear and self-pity and despair. 

That’s why you must walk so lightly. 

Lightly my darling, 

on tiptoes and no luggage, 

not even a sponge bag, 

completely unencumbered.”

― Aldous Huxley, Island

With light,

lightly... 

x

DAYDREAM

"Daydreaming is its own reward."

~ Marty Rubin

mood on the last official day of holiday. 

just want to keep playin' :) 

x

SILENCE TALKING

I wake up in a quiet house.

The snowfall outside turns the world to mute,

obscures the view into blurred, soft contours.

I slip into this Sunday

as if into a cotton kimono. 

This milky white light, soothing silence.

The end of a winter holiday week & winter flu

 felt as velvet on the skin

& crystal-clear, brand new thoughts

that seemingly appeared from nowhere.

Creative ideas that cannot be squeezed into daylight by force

& get silenced by the noise and chaos of the usual busyness.

It's chains like these that continuously make me marvel

~ just think how much bubbles deep within us,

 waiting to flow free,

if you truly pause for a moment,

put out your gentle feelers. 

Sometimes there's nothing that speaks 

as loud as silence.

Herään hiljaisessa talossa.

Lumisade vaimentaa äänet entisestään, 

sumentaa näkymät.

Tähän sunnuntaihin sujahdan

kuin puuvillakimonoon. 

Maidonvalkea valo, hiljaisuus.

Talvilomaviikon ja flunssan jälkeinen raukeus

tuntuu samettina iholla

ja kirkastuneina, kuin tyhjästä ilmaantuneina uusina ajatuksina.

Luovina ideoina, joita ei voi väkisin pusertaa esiin

ja jotka kiireessä jäävät kaiken melun peittoon.

Nämä tällaiset ketjut jaksavat ihmetyttää

~ mitä kaikkea meidän sisällä pulppuaakaan,

valmiina murtamaan kaikki padot,

jos vain oikeasti pysähtyy,

hellästi tunnustelee. 

Joskus mikään ei puhu yhtä lujaa

kuin hiljaisuus. 

x

RODIN ON HOLY SATURDAY

Something pulled me out of bed

at the crack of dawn today.

I tiptoed to the kitchen to put the coffee on the boil,

while the others were still fast asleep.

A night owl gets a glimpse

of what it is that

morning people get all jazzed up about.

A walk through a town

adorned with a veil of mist,

music streaming through my ears

- like a promenade in some strange, faraway land,

near enough to utopia. 

Rodin at the art museum.

I'd been saving him 

for the right moment,

a tranquil day

with nothing pulling me away.

His masterpieces,

they creep under the skin,

penetrate the soul,

bring a lump to the throat,

even conjure up images

of pictures I want to take one day. 

Afterwards, the lady behind me in the café queue

gasps that you don't always get choked up at exhibitions,

but this time you did.

Her friend replies that

ye-ep,

sometimes it just depends on the day of the week

or the mood that particular day.

Today, all those pieces aligned,

I think to myself.

Heräsin aamulla kukonlaulun aikaan,

keitin kahvit muiden vielä nukkuessa. 

Iltaihminen havahtuu siihen,

että näissä omissa aamuhetkissä on puolensa.

Kävely halki sumuisen kaupungin

musiikki korvilla

- kuin olisi käyskennellyt vierailla mailla,

lähestulkoon utopiassa.

Ateneumissa Rodin,

jota olin säästellyt sopivaan hetkeen,

toivonut seesteistä päivää,

kun ei ole kiire mihinkään.

Nuo taidonnäytteet tunkevat ihon alle,

syöpyvät sieluun,

kohottavat palan kurkkuun,

loihtivat jopa mieleen kuvia,

joita joskus vielä haluan ottaa. 

Kahvilajonossa joku huokaisee,

että aina ei näyttelyissä pääse fiiliksiin,

mutta nyt pääsi.

Ystävänsä kommentoi,

että nii-in,

joskus se vain riippuu 

päivästä ja omasta mielentilasta.

Tänään kaikki nuo palaset kohtasivat,

tuumaan mielessäni. 

x

FLOWERS OF THE MIND

Easter break

& I feel the pulse slowing down already.

not good buddies at all 

with that busybody called stress,

so there's an extra comfort in finding 

my way back to rest.

my goodness,

that's the instant when the lustrous beauty

called inspiration takes over,

whispering ideas

& filling with a longing to follow 

her luminous trail... 

“The mind I love most must have wild places, 

a tangled orchard 

where dark damsons drop in the heavy grass, 

an overgrown little wood, 

the chance of a snake or two, 

a pool that nobody fathomed the depth of, 

and paths threaded with flowers planted by the mind.” 

― Katherine Mansfield

wishing you light & love

& a soaring creative spirit this Easter time.

♡

IN OTHER WORDS

A quiet Sunday. 

Savouring the fading beauty

of this grand old pair of rose ladies.

And wise words jotted down in my notebook. 

And some more wise words

from Sally Mann's autobiography Hold Still: 

"There is nothing better

than the thrill of holding a great negative,

wet with fixer,

up to the light.

And, here's the important thing:

it doesn't even have to be a great negative.

You get the same thrill with any negative;

with art, as someone once said,

most of what you have to do

is show up. 

The hardest part is setting the camera to the tripod,

or making the decision to bring the camera out of the car,

or just raising the camera to your face,

believing, by those actions,

that whatever you find before you,

whatever you find there, 

is going to be good.

And, when you get whatever you get,

even if it's a fluky product

of that slipping-glimpser vision that de Kooning celebrated,

you have made something. 

Maybe you've made something mediocre

- there's plenty of that in any artist's cabinets

- but something mediocre is better than nothing,

and often the near-misses, as I call them,

are the beckoning hands 

that bring you to perfection

just around the blind corner."

Wishing you an inspired Sunday.

x

IT BELONGS TO YOU

because this song makes me smile,

& dream,

& do.



(well, all her music makes me smile.

i think it's the smile

i hear in her voice, as she sings.

and i love that cd cover.)

And on this rainy day,

i've felt the creative juices bubbling in my veins,

but fumbled in pouring them out,

 making them flourish.

but then i tell myself:

it's so much more than enough.

And angel-voiced Lisa E. chants in my ear:

flow on & flow through.

 feel that smile nudging

at the corners of the mouth.

that warm glow burning inside.

"Don't stop,  flow on & flow through.

Don't stop,

claim what's yours, it belongs to you.

And don't stop,

flow on & flow through.

Don't stop,

just do what you long to do."

x