Mademoiselle Liberté

Hello God!

Thank You for Your Inspiration for Auguste Bartholdi to create the statue “Liberty Enlightening the World” best known as The Statue of Liberty.

A lot of her beautiful daughters, a replicas of the Statue, enlighten the World. Today I am happy to introduce you with the youngest French one, Mademoiselle Liberté. She is the quarter-scale replica of the Statue of Liberty which was installed in 2004 to commemorate the centennial of the passing of Auguste Bartholdi in the northern entrance in Colmar, Alsace, France, the hometown of the sculptor.colmar.jpg

Walking in Colmar, enjoying French air and French coffee, singing French songs, Mademoiselle Liberté has told me a story of creation of her grandmother Madame Liberté, the statue “Liberty Enlightening the World”.

As any masterpiece The Statue of Bartholdi was born with her unique Destiny. Two blissful kisses from Universe blessed her.

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The first kiss had gifted the East guiding star to the creator.

Auguste Bartholdi, when he was 21 y.o. and still finding his Way traveled in Yemen and Egypt with his friend painter Jean-Léon Gérôme. This eight-month trip was life changing and young Bartholdi had found his Way with the promising guiding Star – power and inspiration in monumental art of Ancient Egypt and colossal sculpture.

At this very time, when The Statue was born on the paper, by the law of Universe synchronicity,  French engineer Ferdinand de Lesseps was gripped by a project of pharaonic proportions: the future construction of the Suez Canal. With support from Ferdinand de Lesseps, Bartholdi offered his creation to the Egypytian authorities in 1869, but to no avail.

We all are lucky that Suez Canal was not destined place for Madame Liberté. She had dreams about the United States.

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The second kiss was the happy event in 1865.

In a luxurious Parisian restaurant with excellent food and wine from Chateau Margaux  monsieur Edouard de Laboulaye with his liberal friends including Auguste Bartholdi  had enjoyed the dinner. Monsieur de Laboulaye was great admirer of the United States. With cheerful toasts and happy wishes the idea was raised of making a gift from France to celebrate the centenary of American independence which was coming up in 1876!

Bartholdi won over the other participants with a plan for a monumental statue symbolising the freedom. As soon as he arrived in New York harbour, he noticed Bedloe’s Island and was immediately sure that he had found the perfect spot for his statue.

The dream of Madame Liberté had come true. She was going to live in the United States!

Built in Paris and packed into over 200 carefully identified crates Madame Liberté left Rouen on 21 May 1885 on board the frigate Isère.

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We are all have our unique Destiny and we are all blissfully kissed by Universe. I am so grateful for this very moment sharing Mademoiselle Liberté’s story of her American grandmother Madame Liberté.

Thank you for your eyes, your happy smile, your happy voice singing French song. You are my Inspiration.

Happy Sunday!

 

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Maslenitsa Mystery

Hello God!

Thank You for Maslenitsa!

We are celebrating this sun-festival during the last week before Great Lent and the most characteristic food of Maslenitsa is bliniGolden pancakes symbolize the sun, helping to warm the frozen earth, and by eating them, we receive a piece of its warmth and protection from evil.

This beautiful girl embodies Maslenitsa Mystery which Anton Chekhov describes in his “Blini”. And turning on the other side of my blin I am reading:

“Did you know that blini have been around for more than a thousand years, from the old, so-called Slavonic ab ovo – Latin, “from the egg”? They came into the light prior to Russian history, experienced it all from the beginning to the last page, and there is no doubt that, like the Samovar, they were thought up by a Russian mind.”

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“It is sad to think that these delicious circles of dough serve only narrow culinary and gastronomic purposes. …As for me, I am almost certain that the ever-talking old blini, in addition to being cooked and eaten, have other goals. Aside for heavy, indigestible dough, in them is hidden something higher, more symbolic, perhaps even prophetic… but what?

It is and remains a deep, impenetrable female mystery, which is as difficult to solve, as it is to get a bear to laugh. Yes, blini, their meaning and purpose – this is a female mystery, a mystery which man will not soon uncover. …

Since prehistoric times, Russian woman watches over this sacred secret, passing it from generation to generation, through none other than her daughters and granddaughters.”

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Barbie in the pancakes dress is the result of Maslenitsa Mystery.

“How are blini made? It is unknown. Only the distant future will know. We must, without thought or question, eat what we are served. This is a mystery!

I do not know what the process of making blini consists of, but mystery and gravity, with which the woman has furnished this rite, are somewhat familiar to me. There is a lot here that is mystical, fantastical and even spiritual. Seeing a woman baking blini, one might think that she’s summoning spirits or extracting dough from the philosopher’s stone”.

For today I suggest you to cook blini and, perhaps, Maslenitsa Mystery will be open to you.

Thank you for your pancakes. They are so delicious and I am feeling the light of your hands and heart fulfilling my essence with Maslenitsa Mystery.

 

Seven Cherries

Hello God!

Thank You for Sunday! New week begins and let me color your week with these happy paintings by Ira Mitchell Kirk .

Life is a bowl of cherries and Seven Cherries are seven days of a week. We habitually have our bowl but in every cherry the gift is hidden.

life is a bowl of cherries

“Days, months, and years were given to us by nature, but we invented the week for ourselves. There is nothing inevitable about a seven-day cycle; it represents an arbitrary rhythm imposed on our activities, unrelated to anything in the natural order.

But where the week exists—and there have been many cultures where it doesn’t—it is so deeply embedded in our experience that we hardly ever question its rightness, or think of it as an artificial convention; for most of us it is a matter of “second nature”, Eviatar Zerubavel writes in his “The Seven Day Circle”.making magic

The Greeks named the days of week after the Sun, the Moon and the five known planets, which named after the gods Ares, Hermes, Zeus, Aphrodite, and Cronus. The Greeks called the days of the week  “theon hemerai” – “days of the Gods”.

The Romans substituted their equivalent gods for the Greek gods, Mars, Mercury, Jove (Jupiter), Venus, and Saturn.dance for joy

Sunday is the Sun’s day. The name comes from the Latin dies solis, meaning “sun’s day”: the name of a pagan Roman holiday. It is also called “Dominica” (Latin), the Day of God.

Monday is the Moon’s day. The name comes from the Anglo-Saxon monandaeg, “the moon’s day”. This second day was sacred to the goddess of the moon.

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Tuesday is the Tiu’s day. This day was named after the Norse god Tyr. The Romans named this day after their war-god Mars “dies Martis”.

Wednesday is the Woden’s day. The day named to honor Wodan (Odin). The Romans called it “dies Mercurii”, after their god Mercury.

Sprinkling Stars

Thursday is Thor’s day. The day named after the Norse god Thor. In the Norse languages this day is called Torsdag.
The Romans named this day dies Jovis (“Jove’s Day”), after Jove or Jupiter, their most important god.

Blooming Love

Friday is Freya’s day. The day in honor of the Norse goddess Frigg.
In Old High German this day was called “frigedag”.
To the Romans this day was sacred to the goddess Venus, and was known as “dies veneris”.

oh! how time flies!

Saturday is Saturn’s day. This day was called dies Saturni, “Saturn’s Day”, by the ancient Romans in honor of Saturn. In Anglo-Saxon: saterdaeg.

Sunday is worth for listening and singing old good song. I am singing “Life is Just A Bowl Of Cherries”. Please enjoy and celebrate your every cherries.

“Life is just a bowl of cherries
Don’t take it serious; it’s too mysterious…”

Thank you for your smiling eyes and have a good week!

 

Cinderella’s Diary

Hello God!

Thank You for Cinderella.

We all know her story but nothing about her marriage with Prince Charming. Today’s morning I have found the continuation of her story in the wonderful poem “Cinderella’s Diary” by Ron Koertge. With these Vogue illustration I am happy to share it.

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“I miss my stepmother. What a thing to say,
but it’s true. The prince is so boring: four
hours to dress and then the cheering throngs.
Again. The page who holds the door is cute
enough to eat. Where is he once Mr. Charming
kisses my forehead goodnight?

Every morning I gaze out a casement window
at the hunters, dark men with blood on their
boots who joke and mount, their black trousers
straining, rough beards, calloused hands, selfish,
abrupt…

Step-mother.jpgOh, dear diary—I am lost in ever after:
those insufferable birds, someone in every
room with a lute, the queen calling me to look
at another painting of her son, this time
holding the transparent slipper I wish
I’d never seen”.

Cinderella is running to step-mother’s hands even faster than she was in hurry to Prince Charming. Cinderella’s story in this film is beautiful but you know we should be careful what we wish for.

Thank you for your smiling eyes and light breath, it is great pleasure to feel them for me. Have a beautiful day!

Mademoiselle Butterfat

Hello God!

Thank You for the butter I am generously spreading on my bread.  I have a breakfast.

The piece of bread is of course gluten free. And butter… oh, I know about cholesterol which is potentially bad for my health. But I love butter. It smells fantastically and it looks as divine honey. What’s the pleasure and the gift I have at this morning!

Inspiring by butter and cream in my coffee I enjoy creating my opera “Mademoiselle Butterfat”.

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My dear friend, her name is Ollie Joy, is a beautiful and gentle cow.

She loves traveling and this is her last selfie

She took in Amsterdam.

I met her in Ventspils, Latvia, we introduced on the Parade of Cows.

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Ollie enjoys a new places and

Has a dream to visit all countries

She watches about at Discovery channel.

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Ollie was named by her famous grandmother –Elm Farm Ollie,

Grandmother adventures are around the airplane flight

She took on Feb. 18, 1930, to the International Aircraft Exposition at St. Louis.

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Because she was such an unusually productive dairy cow —

And required three daily milkings —

She was put to work in-flight.

As the story goes, she ate her usual feed and produced 24 quarts of milk!

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She inspired to create lyric opera, “Madame “Butterfat”.

It tells the tale of one Farmer Brown, whose farm was about to go under.

A couple of salesmen offered him money for Elm Farm Ollie

So that they could fly her in a plane and milk her.Glamour Cow.jpg

Farmer Brown loved the cow but had no choice; he sold her.

The men planned to sell the milk with big price and have a lot of money,

but Ollie said that if the men didn’t give the milk to the needy,

“I’ll make the biggest cow pie that you have ever seen

So follow well my orders or I will be obscene.”

Sensibly, they complied.

Ha-ha-ha! What’s the girl!

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Two girls are talking on the bench.

I love the story of her grandmother –

“Sing we praises of that moo cow,

Airborne once and ever more,

Kindness, courage, butter, cream cheese,

These fine things we can’t ignore.”

We are singing “Bovine Cantata in B flat,”

Please enjoy the opera and love your breakfast creating your own masterpiece, singing and laughing about everything you see! As I love my “Mademoiselle Butterfat”.

Have a beautiful day!

 

 

H.C. Andersen, the Lifesaver

Hello God!

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.Hans Christian Andersen

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.”

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“My native land, Denmark, is a poetical land, full of popular traditions, old songs and eventful history.

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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.

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Odense is called after the pagan god Odin, who, as tradition states, lived here.”

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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.

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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.

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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.”Hans ans kids.JPG

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.

Hans on the stage.JPG“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.

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“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.

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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.

Monday in Roses

Hello God!

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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

Roses.jpg “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.

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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.

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“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.

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“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.

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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.

Happy Labor Day! Have all Mondays in Roses!