'summer stands still
as tiny as a bird
with colored chest
on the edge of the forest'

a poor translation of an excerpt by Aldona Gustas

I found two big bright stars in my handbag this morning (I think it was Gemma and Alkaid). I wonder who fished them out from deep waters of the river when pine trees swayed their tall heads in evening's breeze...

(screens by Hasegawa Tohaku)

the world of blue

'blue is the color of the sky
blue is the color of the mountains
blue is the color of the sea'

(Spain World of Blue)

blue is the color of me

do you believe in fairies

I forgot to ask if you believed in fairies






later you showed me one


(magical visuals were found)

forest

/please, take me/ back to the forest

where fairies and fays weave leas

...when the fox disappeared into the dark and left us two alone you said that we should try be honest with our own feelings.
I said nothing.
the clouds above the river looked like the ones by Dali.

purple
green
blue
yellow

very slim and very long.
I watched the clouds and said nothing.
white soft mist floated above the dark waters slowly swaying. birds sang mesmerizing lullabies right above us. the air was thick. just before the
r
a
i
n


I wanted to ask you whether your body was still connected to your mind. mine wasn't.


that single motionless moment I didn't want to be a bird anymore.


but you still waited for me to say something.

presents from gods

...and after that Gods would sit in their thrones up in the trees, under a river float, inside the humming birds, on the edge of the cliff or right next to you and sip silky high mountain oolongs from see through singing cups.
their job is done.
things taste different now.

she silently tiptoes behind me when my eyes are fixed on rippled reflections of dark skies.
I wonder if it's the water or the clouds that move... or maybe me. or perhaps all together but in different directions.
she peeks at me briefly when passing but hesitates to stop by.
in a split second she's crossing the river via a bridge.
instinctively I disappear into the ripples.

now we are one.

the mask has slipped
morning rain washes my faces

what is you
what is me

while doing a research on masks and identity for an upcoming project I came across an amazing controversy:

* Mask is a covering worn on face to conceal one's identity. (as in thefreedictionary.com)

* In ancient Rome the word persona meant 'a mask'; it also referred to an individual who had full Roman Citizenship. (according to Subhash Kak)


photo by Susan Meiselas. Indian dance mask.

musiques nocturnes

Chopin - Nocturne Mi Bémol Mineur

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