Thank You for Hans Christian Andersen. We all know what today’s date means, 9/11 is the symbol of our fear and fragility. We all need hope and something beautiful inside to keep our own life, and life around. Hans Christian Andersen is our lifesaver.
I invite you in Denmark, in Odense where Andersen born, and the museum, where I took the photos. It is a great pleasure to share with you a fairy tale by my eyes with the soul-wrapping-warming-hugging vibrations of the great man. We are in absolute safety here and now.
In autobiographical “The Fairy Tale of My Life” H.C. Andersen writes, “My life is lovely story, happy and full of incident. If, when I was a boy, and went forth into the world poor and friendless, a good fairy had met me and said, “Choose now thy own course through life, and the object for which thou wilt strive, and then according to the development of thy mind and reason requires, I will guide and defend thee to its attainment,” my fate could not, even then, have been directed more happily, more prudently, or better.”
“My native land, Denmark, is a poetical land, full of popular traditions, old songs and eventful history.
The Danish islands are possessed of beautiful beech woods, and corn and clover fields. Upon one of these green islands, Funen, stands Odense, the place of my birth.
Odense is called after the pagan god Odin, who, as tradition states, lived here.”
Hans Christian Andersen was about 1.85 metres tall – 25 cm above the national average. The longlimbed tall man, the characteristic head with its deep-set eyes and the large nose did not come within the ideal for beauty that prevailed at the time.
He was thought to be ugly, odd – yes, even repulsive – and his outward appearance attracted attention and made a clumsy, comical impression on most people. Those, however, was only the initial impression. Those who got to know the writer more closely gained a different impression. They found his face full of life and wit, his figure stately and his bearing elegant.
Hans Christian Andersen was very fond of looking at himself in the mirror. This was not out of an inordinate love of finery, although he was very concerned about how he dressed. There are about 160 photographs of the writer, but not many of them resembled the actual man, was the opinion of his friends.
The reason was that Hans Christian Andersen tried to assume “a brilliant expression” when he posed for the photographer. I understand his “brilliant expression”, the son of a cobbler and washerwoman wrote, “I arrived with my small parcel in Copenhagen, a poor stranger of a boy, and today I have drunk my chocolate with the Queen, sitting opposite her and the King at the table.”
Throughout his life, Hans Christian Andersen had a colossal imagination, something which the writer thought of as both a great gift and a curse. The most trifling criticism or reproof could disturb his spirits and hurt him deeply. Insignificant incidents were capable of stimulating his imagination to such an extent that he was afraid of becoming insane, like his grandfather before him.
“I am like water, everything brings me in motion. Everything is mirrored in me. This must be part of my nature as a creative writer and often I have derived pleasure and blessing from it, although often it has also been a torment,” the writer wrote to his friend.
“Ideas lay in my thoughts like a seed corn, requiring only flowing steam, a ray of sunshine, a drop from the cup of bitterness, for them to spring forth and burst into bloom.”
“I have heaps material, more than for any kind of writing; it often seems to me as if every hoarding, every little flower is saying to me, “Look at me, just for a moment, and then my story will go right into you”, and then, if I feel like it, I have the story,” he said.
Touching the genius of Hans Christian Andersen makes me happy. I remember my mother’s warm and calm voice reading “The Princess and the pea”, “They could see she was a real Princess and no question about it, now that she had felt one pea all the way through twenty mattresses and twenty more feather beds. Nobody but a Princess could be so delicate.” I read Hans Christian Andersen’s stories for my daughter and I do hope my grandchildren will love its. A family blanket from our childhood is keeping happy memories about familiar and close voices, hands, and smells of milk with honey and a book of fairytales. This blanket is our shield and life vest I am trying to enwrap you in warming your soul.
I am happy to suggest a film about the writer. Beautiful film is instead the devastating and depression world news for keeping souls and minds safe and beautiful.
“The history of my life will say to the world what is says to me – There is a loving God, who directs all things for the best” Hans Christian Andersen said. “God directs all things for the best,” I am repeating for myself and for you. We are in safety until a fairy tale lives in us.
Thank You, Hans Christian Andersen! You are our lifesaver.
With the poem by Edwina Reizer I am happy to share my inspiration.
The frightened ballerina,
standing on her toes
stood behind the curtain
in a dainty pose.
Having practiced faithfully
hour after hour,
inside her heart was pounding.
Outside her muscled power
overcame her fear.
The overture now playing,
each note was in her ear.
And as the curtain opened
it took away her fear.
The stage, the lights
became her love.
Each pirouette and leap
took her way above
into a different sphere.
The audience, mesmerized,
intent on every motion,
appreciation on their faces
showed deep emotion.
And as the music ended
she took her final bow.
No longer was
in fact emboldened now.
She knew why she was here.
To dance, to dance
at every given chance.
To hear the applause
and hear them call her name.
And so the ballerina
standing on her toes
so graceful and dainty
is awed as she does hear.
bravo, my dear!”
Beautiful film “Lost in Motion II” is for today. It explores the spectrum of emotions experienced by a ballerina as they bare their soul for all to see. The video is fantastically beautiful. Please enjoy!
The curtains are closed. We are inspired by ballerina in red.
Thank You for Monday! As usual my new life begins from Monday and Labor Day is the first Monday of September.
Most of Mondays I habitually promise to myself to wake up earlier, to do my morning exercises every day, to be calmer with my daughter when we do her homework and other self-improvement stuff demanding self-discipline.
Today is my magical Monday and I am going to begin it in roses.
When I think about roses I see Grace Kelly and her rose garden in Monaco. Roses were Grace Kelly’s favorite flower and in 1984, to honor her, Prince Ranier inaugurated a public rose garden dedicated to her memory. Located in Fontvielle, in the principality of Monaco, the Princess Grace Rose Garden is situated on a gentle slope next to Fontvielle Park on the French Riviera. The fragrant garden is home to more than 4,000 roses. I was blessed walking around there.
Rose is a wonderful flower and we all know it does not grow by itself. Even in Monaco.
With Kipling’s words: “Gardens are not made by singing: “Oh, how beautiful,” and sitting in the shade”, I open “The Old Farmer’s Almanac” and read “How to plant, grow and care for roses”. In my Monday’s case I am the rose-me and I am going to grow myself. You know why – I dream to look like Grace Kelly.
To plant a rose I need preparing the Soil. I have a body – Soil which is the temple of my soul and the source of my development. Ok, I promise cut sugar-carbohydrates and do Tibetan “Fountain of Youth” every morning. I like this complex and it takes about 20 minutes.
“Plant roses where they will receive a minimum of 5 to 6 hours of full sun per day. Roses grown in weak sun may not die at once, but they weaken gradually. Give them plenty of organic matter when planting and don’t crowd them” – what’s a wonderful tip for self -growing.
I do not exactly, I suppose – you see a gorgeous Hybrid Tea rose which is named after Grace. Anyway watering my own rose-person means inspiring other soul to create. At this very moment I’am helping you to create your own happy hybrid, I hope.
“When you transplant your roses, be sure to dig a much bigger hole than you think you need”. Self-growing the rose-me is fulfilled but sometimes transformations are painful and fearful. “Wear sturdy gloves to protect your hands from prickly thorns” – I have an extra pair for you.
“Prune roses every spring and destroy all old or diseased plant material. Wear elbow-length gloves that are thick enough to protect your hands from thorns but flexible enough to allow you to hold your tools.” I hold my tools tightly and I am with your support. Thank you very much for your smiling eyes I am feeling now.
We overcome the thorns of temptations and meet ourselves as beautiful buds of roses. “Les Roses d’hispahan” by Gabriel Fauré is our award for hardworking self-growing process:
“Your lips are of coral and your light
filled laugh more lovely than swift water, your voice more soft;
more joyful than the wind that shivers the orange blossoms,
than the bird that sings beside its nest of moss.”
The melody is as harmonious as we all are created. The Rose-me is growing hard but flowering is worth it.
We are celebrating the 1st of September, our first day in school!
We are happy today. My daughter with hand in my hand goes to the school. I know, my darling, home works are compulsory and sometimes its are difficult and boring. Teachers are different and perhaps you will meet misunderstanding. But I am with you and I help you to open numerous doors to knowledges. I learn with you.
With the Danish doors you see, for today I have discovered “The Chaos” written by Dutch writer, traveller, and teacher Gerard Nolst Trenité.
This is a classic English poem containing about 800 of the worst irregularities in English spelling and pronunciation!!!
Dearest creature in Creation,
Studying English pronunciation,
I will teach you in my verse
Sounds like corpse, corps, horse, and worse.
I will keep you, Susy, busy,
Make your head with heat grow dizzy; Tear in eye, your dress you’ll tear;
So shall I!
Oh, hear my prayer.
Pray, console your loving poet,
Make my coat look new, dear, sew it!
Just compare heart, beard, and heard, Dies and diet, lord and word. Sword and sward, retain and Britain
(Mind the latter, how it’s written!) Made has not the sound of bade, Say-said, pay-paid, laid, but plaid.
Please enjoy and learn! We all are always have something to learn. Thank you for your smile and my hope that I open something new and fascinating for your mind!
Thank You for the violin melody I am listening now. It is “Adiós a la Alhambra” by Jesús de Monasterio. I was lucky to meet the composer in the centre of nice mountain village Potes, Cantabria, Spain.
This funny illustration by Daniel Pérez embodies the violinist and exactly mirrors my own idea about Jésus. Yes, the Crown – Violin is on his head and in his mind. The bows radiate the music we feel in his blue eyes.
Jesús de Monasterio was born in Potes in 1836. “One afternoon, little Jésus 4 y.o. listen a melody his father playing the violin, a melody as simple as melancholy. When father saw his son sitting in a corner of the room he was in abundant tears.“Why are you crying, child?” he asked. “I cry”, answered the boy, “because that music makes me cry”. With such an answer, Jacinto Monasterio decided to teach his son to play the violin.
He learned to play the violin at age five and became a child prodigy. At the age of seven, Jesus de Monasterio as Mozart astonished the audience by his first performance. “He caused an inexplicable admiration with the prodigies that he made playing the violin: this little angel, smaller than the instrument he had in hand,” – the review of that concert said.
Monasterio devoted most of his life to teaching and promoting music in Spain. Outside of teaching, Monasterio founded in 1863 the Society of Quartets, which became the gateway to Spain of the best chamber music of European Romanticism.
He directed the Orchestra of the Concert Society and brought greater technical complexity to the orchestra, especially in the string section. As a composer, he left half a hundred works. He composed orchestral music and chamber music, religious works and didactic works.
In Proust Questionnaire for the magazine Black and White published in 1893 he affirmed that his favorite occupation was to study;that his favorite color was white; that among all the animals he preferred the dog;that his favorite writers were Cervantes, Fray Luis de Leon and Concepcion Arenal, and that he had no favorite politician.To the question “To what faults do you feel most indulgent?”, Jesus of Monastery replied: “Those committed its who are blindly in love”.
“Adiós a la Alhambra” is the piece for violin and piano, I am saying “Good bye, Summer!” with. This beautiful melody declaims Violin poem by Hafiz:
“When the violin can forgive the past
it starts singing
When the violin can stop worrying
About the future
You will become such a drunk laughing nuisance.
That God will then lean down
And start combing you into His hair.
When the viloin can forgive
Every wound caused by others
The heart starts singing”
It seems the violinist, A. Detisov, embodies the genius of Jésus de Monasterio. I am so grateful to share this pleasure to listen such a beautiful violin melody today, in the last summer day!
Thank You for Antonio Gaudi. He has imagined and created Barcelona by his life and love and today when Barcelona is crying, Antonio Gaudi helps us to keep our hand in hand together and gives the strength to hope for life will continue…
“A white Fiat van was deliberately driven into pedestrians on one of Barcelona’s most popular boulevards late on Thursday afternoon, killing 13 people in what Spanish police called a “terrorist attack” – Catalan heart of Antonio Gaudi is crying by our tears.
Before Barcelona had inspired Antonio Gaudi, his first work was El Capricho in a small town Comillas, Canrabria. I have recently visited this gem and I hope sharing El Capricho will be helpful to dry a little our tears. “Gaudi” in Catalan means “enjoy”.
Antonio Gaudi was just 31 y.o. when he began to create the building. Cristòfor Cascante i Colom, Gaudí’s fellow student, directed the construction. Friends had the same dreams they saw the Sun in their creation.
In an oriental style, the building has an elongated shape, on three levels and a cylindrical tower in the shape of a Muslim minaret, faced completely in ceramics.
The building was commissioned by Máximo Díaz de Quijano and constructed between 1883 and 1885. Maximo was an amateur musician, and for this reason the name of El Capricho responds, translated to architecture, as it is used in music to designate pieces that do not follow the rules and with variations of rhythm according to a personal whim.
Was it the personal whim to drive above peacefully walking people? Who is conductor of horror capriccio in Barcelona?
I am reading in “The Architectural Capriccio”, by Lucien Steil: “In fact what characterizes the capriccio is: truth, reality and realism. It enhances a formidable potential of life and livability in beautifully composed, complex and memorable environments, places, landscapes and buildings which only exist in the realm of desire”.
The realm of desire is the realm of life? Who had a desire to create today’s blood haos in Barcelona? The Sun is different for him?
Antonio is sitting on the bench in a happy thoughts of creating Barcelona as we know the city today. His beautiful dreams of this city supports us in our trust in humanity – “Please do not hate Muslims and Arabs. Sun is for everyone” – he is asking for.
6 guitars sing sad melody of Capricho árabe (Arab Capriccio) by Spanish composer Francisco Tárrega with beautiful hands of musician. I am listening it now and my soul feels a hope – Barcelona is strong. Antonio Gaudi knows Barcelona inspires.
Thank you for letting me to support you in really sad today.
Thank You for Christian Dior. May inspires to imagine and my today’s hero is a little boy with a big almond’s eyes. I named him Florian Dior.
I am lucky to find the images of floral dresses by Tasmanian fashion designer Sandra Alcorn and allow myself to immerse in the floral fantasy where the Goddess Flora is blessing little Christian Dior and all of us.
Goddess Flora guides Dior’s inspiration from her first kiss to little Florian.
Corolle(literally the botanical term corolla or circlet of flower petals in English) is the name of the line of Dior’s first collection, presented in 1947. His New Look is the image of the flower-woman. Dior sets the fashion of blooming silhouette like a flower’s corolla with the waist is thin as its stem, and of fairy flowery fabrics with colors of his beloved Normandy’s sky and sea.
“But being so sweet and so charming they must be used with care. A flowered hat may be lovely or ridiculous. A flower in your buttonhole or in your belt or in your decollete may be extremely nice… but choose a variety of flower and a color to suit your personality,” Dior shares the advises of Goddess Flora in his Dictionary.
“Flowered prints I think are wonerful…silk prints in beautiful colors are lovely for afternoon suits, dinner frocks, or cocktail dresses” – I follow you, Dior.
Christian Dior emphasizes: “… flowers can bring a touch of color to a dark dress. A spray of purple pansies and yellow gold mimosa can do wonders to light up a dark dress.” And you know a spray of purple pansies and yellow gold mimosa can do wonders to light up everything dark and let me hugging you with this spray of golden rays of the Goddess of Flora.
Little Florian Dior enjoys a dreams in Granville. He is sharing its with you by Christian Dior – Haute Couture video:
I am feeling Flora’s kisses on my cheeks opening her world. Thank you for the bliss, the Goddess of Flora, we are all touched by you. Thank you, Florian Dior, for your happy realization.
So Spring is in the air and it’s the perfect time to be fresh and new and colorful just like the flowers!
Thank You very much for my daughter. I am endlessly grateful for this divine gift of being mother. And I am celebrating Mother’s Day!
Colorful paining by Eugenia Namakova mirrors our faces. We are blue-eyed and we are blooming in our happiness together.
I am hugging my daughter by her shoulders, looking in her eyes and saying, “God gave you gifts!!! You must give them to the world!!! Let’s overcome the villain laziness and go to practice playing the piano.”
I know Margarita loves me and I am enjoying her playing the piano listening in the every sounds Emerson’s words, “You’re the greatest mommy in the whole wide world. I love you to the moon and back.”
Please spend 3 minutes watching this wonderful animation. And say: Thank you for all you’ve done for me, mom.
Thank You for Spring! With singing birds as my alarm clock and fresh aroma of coffee as my first inspiration, morning is beginning a new happy day.
Everything beautiful in our life was born in love, passion and grace. Spring brings to us these great gifts. Today I invite you in Bergamo in a sunny terrace of charming cafe “La Marianna” to share with me fantastic desert – Polenta e Osèi, the gastronomic symbol of Bergamo.
Originally, polenta, from the Latin pollen for “fine flour”, which shares a root with pulvis, meaning “dust”, is a dish of boiled cornmeal. It’s frequently eaten with meats and ragù, cheese like gorgonzola.
The origins of the sweet version of Polenta e Osèi date to 1910, the year when a local baker, Amadeo Alessio and his wife, created it for the first time.
It is interesting that Polenta e Osèi is in no way actually made of polenta. The polenta-like appearance is due to a yellow fondant covering rolled in big crystals of sugar, with a dollop of apricot jam on top. Inside, a yellow cake (pan di spagna) hides a cream center of usually hazelnut.
It seems I know the reason why Polenta e Osèi is not actually Polenta…
Amadeo Mozartti is a young and joyful baker from peasant family with happy songs creates his masterpieces in Antonio Salierri’s pastry. Salierri’s business is a heritage from 7 generations of excellent bakers. And from his first inhalation Antonio is a baker and he has dedicated himself to the service of the baking art. He is rich and he enjoys his life in baking cakes in own pastry.
He is proud of his high standards. Of course, the Queen personally byes sophisticated cakes here, in Salerri! But it is the question here. The Queen loves Mozartti’s deserts. Secretly, however, Salleri is jealous of Mozartti’s works because he recognizes their superior quality, especially given what he sees in him as a simple peasant.
Soprano’s family is the richest in Verona. Father of Sopranos is going to Bergamo to expand their business and the best way to do it is … family-arranged wedding! He has a daughter Giulietta Soprano. The only child, she is a gift from heaven.
“Sallieri is a good choice for my Giulietta”, thinks Soprano. “He is rich. He has connection with the Queen”. “Oh, yes, I will marry. Sopranos is my chance!”, Sallierri dreams. Of course, his interest in her is primarily based on her social standing and her family’s vast wealth, in contrast to her youthful beauty.
The meeting Giulietta Soprano with Antonio Sallierri was arranged in Antonio’s pastry. Amadeo Mozartti secretly glanced on Giulietta is fallen in love with her endlessly at the first sight. He can not handle the feeling but what he can do? How he can tell her “I love you!”?
Happy loving hands of grandmother Amadeo feels on his hot forehead and the only world “Polenta” he listens in the dreams at the night before the day when meeting with Giulietta is possible. “Polenta? It sounds ridiculous. This dish is for poor peasants”, Amadeo desperately cries, “I will try any way. It is matter of life or death. I will chose the finest ingredients for my wordless love confession”.
He runs to the kitchen: “White chocolate, dark chocolate, butter, of course, ground almonds, instead of corns! What a relief!” Amadeo happily singing again creates his masterpiece.
“Marzipan bird is on the apricot confiture pillow happily resting in the golden nest not from a metal but from sunshine and my favourite corn. Dear Giulietta, you are the bird and my love is the golden nest. I will keep it for the end of my days,” Giulietta recognised Amadeo’s heart and read the message from it.
Sallieri did not poison Mozartti. Amadeo was simply fired. Father Soprano accepted the choice of his child’s heart. All Bergamo was dancing on their wedding. Happy End!
We can join celebrating Spring and Love with a beautiful dance “La Bergamesca” by Marco Uccellini.
Thank you for your hand I am feeling in the dance by beating of our hearts. Your eyes are incredible. You are beautiful. You are my Spring Bird!