the love, part II

it is heart piercing how the love works, piercing in a good way. i have felt hot and cold in an instant, happy and sad. i am swinging, big time. so many blogfriends have reacted to my sudden cry, while i didn't realize i might be calling for help. from unexpected corners of the world, known and unknown indivduals speak the words that are needed. it is amazing and it keeps me strong. i want to thank you all.

i have come to feel too, that what's happened is tied to that wavy process of letting go. this might be the BIG one, the one in which son stands up and leaves the nest, the one in which the mother steps aside to let her youngster shine, even if the future looks shady. this one is a toughy, but i understand in my head, and i feel in my heart, that this is what is happening. i also need to trust.

in other words, and sent to me by lisa*, i am reproducing an unexpectedly fitting literary passage, from nabokov's 1957 novel PNIN, one that released tears from my eyes.

"Then the little sedan boldly swung past the front truck and, free at last, spurted up the shiny road, which one could make out narrowing to a thread of gold in the soft mist where hill after hill made beauty of distance, and where there was simply no saying what miracle might happen." 

[*lisa, thank you for this. i can't reach you behind the scenes, so i step up front a little. thank you for an effectively powerful allegory.]

drawing | love

seeking the love. this week... son getting expelled from school for verbal aggression against one teacher. teachers' league letting him down, big time. emergency intervention with headmaster and staff. talking. more talk. debate. consultation. an almost shattered dream (son's final exams). reflection on and consideration of a better fitting solution. rescue remedy. a headmaster with a heart. feeling the love.

ps - which doesn't excuse aggression. but i needed the love, boy did i need the love this week. in a much unexpected way, rachel, you chose one hell of a theme... ☻ and thank you.


have you heard of **eye-snacks**? she is one talented embroidery lady (amongst other things i'm sure). when ingrid asked me to take a photo of my order, i just needed the word. i can only do her justice by showing off her efforts a little. i'm still loving what i chose, dear. ♥

i like to think this is "our house.
in the middle of our street.
our house, our castle and our keep"

corner view ≈ favourite fiction

iris murdoch 
ludicrous love / humble hate

[murdoch quote - we can only learn to love by loving]. when i was doing my graduate course in libraries & documentation, a fellow student introduced me to iris murdoch. the only reality of murdoch at that point in my life were kate winslow's and dame judi dench's interpretations in richard eyre's picture IRIS. so when i started reading murdoch books, i had a few visions to tap from. which isn't imperative in murdoch readings, but it helps. whenever i grow into a murdoch story (usually halfway through) i have nodded vehemently on several pages, or i have burst out laughing at the author's absolute witty connaissance of the english vocabulary (often in a full commuter train; which goes to show, grand literature knows time nor place). okay, this for the love part.

[murdoch quote - literature could be said to be a sort of disciplined technique for arousing certain emotions]. well, the hate doesn't really come into it, apart from the fact that the novels always look so damned flimsy, but are not! since they're sixties prints, smallish to today's standards and tightly laid out, murdoch books take me rather a lot longer than i preview. which hits me each and every time, when i near the middle of a novel and wonder, do i go on? but i hate not finishing a novel. it's like paying no hommage after all. remarkable too, to let myself go back in time as such, for murdoch novels are so timebound, all whilest her way of thinking can hardly be defined as anything other than timeless.
theme chosen by beth, on jane's corner view, hosted by francesca's fuoriborgo.

now. if you are to ask me again, who's your favourite author? i will answer, randomly, raymond carver, carol shields, ian mc ewan, ruchard russo, paul auster, joyce c. oates, alice munro. to name a few.

monday morning coffee break...

... in the best of company. rosamaria kindly offered a piece of ...

... her textiled goodness to dress up an otherwise sober mid morning table. lovely, lovely.

i forgot to mention in last week's post on room and bath and imagination, my original promise to ariane to mention her interpretation of nose job vinnie. (was that a lot of linking? ☻) 
honour to whom honour is due and a promise = a promise. isn't ariane a romantic soul? 

cheers, lovely ladies. salud and prosit! ♥

vintage finds | shining role for VRM

let's hear it for VRM. VRM is a person, unknown to me, but the person did leave her/his initals on the back of this one find i'm showing off today, for it happens. 

you find an object that totally enthralls you. and to show it off against other finds would demean its grandeur. well then. here's holy fish, as in a fish with tiny punched (i'm guessing with the back of a pencil) and colour filled holes. it lay obtrusively amongst rubble. it shone right into my piercing eye. and it came home with me. 

it wouldn't scan properly, for it is bulgy
VRM, you made my moment, and now you shine. so, who the hell are you? sophie's flea market finds today.

drawing | hand

i wrote a letter today. long hand. i sat in a cafe at midday and ordered a cherry beer. chatting with the female waiter, who dreamily sulked about 'having ever such a quiet day', i tried to finish the letter in time for the mail van. walking down to the post office i realised i didn't have an envelope, nor the adressee's address on me. so i bought a new pair of shoes instead. soft as butter, comfortable as two hush puppies, you know what i mean. ☻

all kinds of hand scenes have been chasing me this week. i heartily point the finger to tracey's for reminding me of the vital role of ronny cammareri's hand in moonstruck. in the case of this week's drawing challenge i'm confessing that the left hand does not always know what the right hand is doing. the latter is tracing the former in the diary, on the train. proof of that here.

more hands than you can shake, over a-here : elisabeth, ötli, patrice, citlalli, ariane, fru mju, pascale, hagar, julia, rachel, renilde, stephanie, jasmin, ...

i'm gladly handing the torch over to someone else now, to pick us an exciting new theme? thank you all for participating ♥ 

spatulas and stilettos

nigella's and tessa's of this world, brace up! i've been to the library and i've found me a new bestest friend in the kitchen department : ravinder bhogal. what the girl does and how she does it ... i guess i better get used to high heels too, 'cos this appetizing element is called cook in boots, which does sound daring, non?

the very first recipe i put my hand on in this gastronomic walhalla consists quite simply of (stale) bread, chilli & sugar grilled courgette and mozzarella. three winners, i'm in! [if only for mozzarella replaced by a few crumbs of leftover stilton, and marinated tomatoes instead of fresh ones. it works equally well].

toss those ingredients together, add a splash of olive oil and wine (or other) vinegar, let it all soak a bit, add lettuce and basil before serving. oh. also scatter back pepper generously. thank you miss bhogal. bon appétit!

drawing challenge NEW THEME : hand

like i said? i recently communicated two themes in one go to elisabeth... nobody seemed to mind about saturday's theme. so, then, and i promise, after this, i'll keep schtum. [apart from spreading some words, of course....]. give us a hand with hand? ☻

update - promised hands from : elisabeth, ötli, patrice, citlalli, ariane, fru mju, pascale, hagar, julia, rachel, ...

corner view ≈ room, for a bath {renov# 21}

j. slapping on the plaster
a handyman told me, once you move into your unfinished house, finishing is no longer a pressing issue. i nodded, thinking i don't think so! then son and i moved in. canceling the ground floor and its functions is what we needed to do, as much so physically as in our heads. what a switch it was. initially it raced a storm. 

grey, brown, beige, creme, white - dust it is

until springtime, when matters started to look up. they also looked dusty, for sunlight and full moon nights were flooding those empty spaces. i realised if anytime soon-ish we want to cook in the room where cooking is projected, i had better put my skates on. 

temporary light bulb

recently though, i've been blogging close to speed limit, i've been rummaging and whizzing 'round the house choring, i've been thrifting. my word! have i been thrifting : filling up box after box to stow away again. but i've not been handling one single proper power tool. how to press on?

fridge on wheels

well. by pressing on, i guess. like i'm always telling the other, you go on by going on. and as i'm devouring the umpteenth episod of 'building a house in the country', in which amateurs take on jobs ten times the size of our renovation, i gaze, i listen and i do realize. things get done by getting them done. graft, courage, vision. 

back in the recent day
when bathroom and kitchenette joined forces
i have never posted anything on our freshly painted bathroom, 'cept for a measerly tiny series on FB. we did however cut back its double function (bathroom/kitchenette). i scarcely mentioned that. but we do now have a bathroom that breathes a little and which leaves room to imaginaton. 

before everything started on our bathroom

to boost ourselves up further, and prolongate a pep up late night call, i'm posting this little before/after series. to reconvince myself mainly, there's a road we've been walking, 

releasing painted over duct tape alongside bathroom window
a clear line we've been following, 

a dream we've been chasing. 

half way there is just so much better than merely on the lookout for grander things. [half way, though, might be on the optimistic side.]

the stage of ripping off layers of wall paper

but i do agree with the handyman now. once you move into an unfinished home, finishing is no longer a pressing issue. 

washing up today.... still happens in bathroom. yep.

i'm convinced somewhere deep in there, zen can be found too. a totally better before/after image is going to have to wait till the mosaic gets fixed to the shower walls (haven't gotten the mosaic yet, that's my excuse).

all this to say, really, there's always room for exciting destinations, but i'm glad my bathroom has somewhat landed. thanks, cole, i find your themes interesting! on jane's corner view, hosted by francesca

vintage finds | blind frogs

[courtesy of bell]
you should see bell at it, really. how d'you like her army of religious figurines? she finds them in thrift shops and will use them in art projects for the new store (to be opened this summer). i'm dying to find out what all she will be up to... in the meantime, we sometimes thrift together, other times we thrift apart. we haven't challenged one another yet on behalf of portraying treasury, but i've kept my eyes closely on her moves. last time she was 'round, was she eying mr. deer?

woe me right
woe me tightly
send in the night owl, do.
bring some hothouse flowers
outnumber the napkin rings,
and swear by the eyeless frogs.
seriously! on my return, it was son who told me those frogs wouldn't be seeing much of the world no more... i did not see it coming, for i didn't have my glasses on. sophie's attic treasures.

drawing | dream

duck pool, this ain't no river
it is my dream to visit a particular, american river in 2014 [at the earliest]. i dream of luxuriating on a small boat, letting my hand cut gently through cooling water, sailing underneath gigantic aluminum foliage. do you follow? ☻ 

geraardsbergen, abbey parc
wash my soul in the transience of time. immerse and move. move along the ripples of the mighty arkansas river, somewhere between salida and canon city, co (usa). dreaming a fable.  

over the river christo's latest project
on show 2014, at the earliest

[environmental] artist christo, along good tradition, has been working on his next project for many years now. unfortunately without his life long partner in both work and love, jeanne-claude (read excellent article here), i first learned about his most recent plans in 2007. the exhibit would run for two consecutive weeks in the summer of 2011. it won’t happen just yet. waiting on environmental permits allowing his installation process to lift off, the project postpones further from materialising.

over the river
the promise of near to six miles of silvery, luminous cloth paneling above the arkansas river cutting through rural landscape, gleaming brightly towards the sky while filtering the light underneath, for any willing spectator to take part in... it doesn't half sound like a heavenly dream to me.

how about you? oh, and by the way, here's this week's contribution to our drawing circle. a little on the modest side, for in shadows i walk, humble i reside. oh. and splash i do. in rivers, in dreams...

in the meantime i'm guessing we've all experienced blogger's recent gigantic muck-up (not wanting to put too fine a point on it). but hey-ho, they're fixing, as we speak. i am still missing some comments. so, if you can't find your name amongst those dreamers below, do please e-mail me. then! go! dream! ♥

patrice, susanna, ariane, (pascale), rachel, julia, stephanie, hannah, elisabeth...

further note to all : last week i happened to communicate two themes in one go to elisabeth. if nobody steps in or up this weekend, could we agree on next week's theme being hand? i have a good reason for proposing a hand... i simply cannot draw 'em! desiring to exercise those fingers, and then some, wanna give us a hand?

corner view ≈ motion

firstly, foremostly. you corner viewers rock! cheers for the 1974 comments from last week... i've got to say, i could not have imagined, in my 1974 mood and mode that, 'back' in the distant future, that very moment would be gently scrutinized as such. it warmed my ancient ♥. cheers!  grateful for this week's liberating theme too, cole! (on jane's corner view, hosted by francesca's fuoriborgo).

motion is a well stocked folder on my external database. rather, in my place i call it moving and moved pictures. occasionally dropping off an image, i have assembled a divine little private library, that soothes me if need be. for motion, i find, is the fibre of life. without motion, we would obviously be remote. without feeling motion, we could be shallow. without the adventure of motion, i would surely wilter. i don't think i can explain what follows. i don't even want to. 

view from a train on a grey day filled with heavenly water
passing another train on that same grey day

a passer-by, clad in jeans, in ghent
boy diving, almost, in bruges
when starting blogging in 2007 (in flemish),
this was my very first header. ever.

actually, same train, 5 years onwards
(downloaded phone just now...)