Ballerina in Red

Hello God!

Thank You for ballerina in red I am inspired by.

With the poem by Edwina Reizer I am happy to share my inspiration.

Ballerina

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.

Ballerina.jpg

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.

Red Heels

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
she frightened,
in fact emboldened now.
She knew why she was here.

alvin-ailey-andrew-eccles-red-dress.jpg

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, bravo,
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.

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Master Pen

Hello God!

Thank You for today. The 1st of September is Day of Knowledge we are celebrating with a bouquet of flowers for a teachers and a bottle of champagne for parents. New school year has just begun!

My daughter goes to class of third graders. She likes her pen and has just created poem about it:

“My Master Pen, You look like on Magic Wand. Sometimes my letters are dancing as ballerinas, sometimes as hippopotamuses”. I tell you a secret mostly hippopotamuses are in her papers.

Jake Weidmann

Today I have introduced my daughter with Jake Weidmann and I am happy to share with you his fantastic calligraphy.

Jake Weidmann is the 11th Master Penman in the world!

The Pen

“I took it upon myself to really work obsessively on my handwriting everybody else in school had their laptops out in there are typing away and I had a pen in a pad of paper.

I practice a lot of different art forms but I particularly mix calligraphy into my artwork to give both the words and the pictures more life and a stronger message”, Jake says.The Ocean of Knowledge

Researchers have shown that children who know how to write by hand learn to read faster.  “When we write, a unique neural circuit is automatically activated,” neuroscientists say.

Sojourners-Rose

“Handwriting is a movement skill. Try writing your name and address with eyes closed, most people are able to do it quite easily, this is because the movements of your hand when writing are firmly established in your movement memory because you have made them so often.. This is why children need to practise handwriting movements correctly and often” educators from Cambridge University say.

Dear Pen, Master Pen! Be my friend! Be my helper!

Teach me the joy of taking you to paper.

I write my soul by you. I express ballet of letters in my papers with you…

Happy New School Year!

 

 

Tilia Daughter

Hello God!

Thank You for the beautiful Tilia tree I am sitting under when the words are flowing from my head. Today is the last day of June and I invite you to celebrate this day with wonderful music and paintings.

I love the name “Tilia” – it sounds so musical as a tender violin’s voice. “Ti-li -a” I am singing with the accompaniment of “Bagatelles” by Dvorak. Tilia is a genus of about 30 species of trees commonly called lime trees, basswood and linden.

June Daughter.jpg

With the the sweetest perfume of millions of pale-green flowers among heart-shaped leaves I am feeling myself as Tilia’s daughter. My imagination immerses me to inside the linden tree and I am this linden tree. Anna Petrova has painted me as a loving child of Tilia – the linden or lime tree.

Tilia Heart

By the way according druid’s horoscope my sign is Linden tree.

You know, I am reading the meaning of my sign Linden or Lime tree –  I am unprecedentedly charming and can use it and may turn everybody’s head. I easily adapt to any conditions. Boredom is my main enemy.

Tilia Song

My horoscope said  – “She’s full of contradictions, very hard to interpret.  But one thing is undoubted about her: she’s very attractive. It’s nice and easy to associate with her, you have a feeling of psychological comfort.” I like myself as daughter of Tilia.

Tilia Dream

Sociability, observation, realism, talent for organisation is traits of those who were born under the sign of Linden or Lime. Oh, I am in really fantastic company because Louis XIV, Pierre Auguste Renoir and Albert Einstein were born under the sign of Lindan/Lime.

Summer breeze.jpg

I am tender and loving child of Tilia, happily listening music, feeling summer breeze in every sounds of Bagatelles by Dvorak. Please enjoy!

“The linden, in the fervors of July,
Hums with a louder concert. When the wind
Sweeps the broad forest in its summer prime,
As when some master-hand exulting sweeps
The keys of some great organ, ye give forth
The music of the woodland depths, a hymn
Of gladness and of thanks.”

by William Cullen Bryant

Thank You for your smiling eyes and sharing this happy moment with me. June was great.

Welcome to July!

 

 

Onegin Day

Hello God!

Thank You for Alexander Pushkin! Today, the 6th of June, is his Birthday! To celebrate the day I invite you to open and read the book. The poem “Eugene Onegin” is in the book.

Eugenu Onegin.jpg

Russian painter Elena Samokish-Sudkovskaya illustrated the poem published in 19o8 in Saint Petersburg. It is my pleasure to share with you these wonderful pictures. Romantic mood and delicate character of the poetry embrace us. We are floating in the flows of this Masterpiece.

Onegin.jpg

I am catching the waves of “Eugene Onegin” translation by Charles H. Johnston via my own senses. I hope you will enjoy its, you can catch your own Pushkin here.

“How early on he (Onegin) learnt to trouble
the heart of the professional flirt!
When out to burst a rival’s bubble,
how well he knew the way to hurt —
what traps he’d set him, with what malice
he’d pop the poison in his chalice!”

Tatyana.jpg

So she was called Tatyana.

From early on she loved romances,
they were her only food… and so
she fell in love with all the fancies
of Richardson and of Rousseau.The visit.jpgTatyana now need wait no longer.
Her eyes were opened, and she said
“this is the one!” Ah, ever stronger,
in sultry sleep, in lonely bed,
all day, all night, his presence fills her,
by magic everything instils her
with thoughts of him in ceaseless round.

Tatiana's Letter.jpg

“I write to you – no more confession
is needed, nothing’s left to tell.
I know it’s now in your discretion
with scorn to make my world a hell.

Decreed in highest court for ever…
heaven’s will — for you I’m set apart;
and my whole life has been directed
and pledged to you, and firmly planned:
I know, Godsent one, I’m protected
until the grave by your strong hand:
you’d made appearance in my dreaming;
unseen, already you were dear,
my soul had heard your voice ring clear,
stirred at your gaze, so strange, so gleaming,
long, long ago… no, that could be
no dream. You’d scarce arrived, I reckoned
to know you, swooned, and in a second
all in a blaze, I said: it’s he!”Tatiana's husband.jpg

“Can you say,
prince, who in that dark-red béret,
just there, is talking to the Spanish
ambassador?” In some surprise
the prince looks at him, and replies:
“Wait, I’ll present you – but you banish
yourself too long from social life.”
“But tell me who she is.” “My wife.”

Eugene_Onegin.jpg

Onegin wrote “…I noticed once, at our chance meeting,
in you a tender pulse was beating,
yet dared not trust what I could see.
I gave no rein to sweet affection:
what held me was my predilection,
my tedious taste for feeling free.

No, every minute of my days,
to see you, faithfully to follow,
watch for your smile, and catch your gaze
with eyes of love, with greed to swallow
your words, and in my soul to explore
your matchlessness, to seek to capture
its image, then to swoon before
your feet, to pale and waste… what rapture!”

No answer comes. Another letter
he sends, a second, then a third.

Tatyana answered “I married. I beseech you, go;
I know your heart: it has a feeling
for honour, a straightforward pride.
I love you (what’s the use to hide
behind deceit or double-dealing?)
but I’ve become another’s wife —
and I’ll be true to him, for life.”

Thank you for joy reading “Eugene Onegin” with me. Onegin Day is wonderful.

 

Christmas Child

Hello God!

Thank You for Christmas! This very word brings joy to our hearts. Little kids make Christmas fun. We can invite our inner child for the holidays. We will dance  around Christmas tree and stay up late drinking hot chocolate and waiting for Santa.

I know, yes, my adult knows where the presents really came from. But my inner child believes. So do yours little you.

Tonight is special, First Christmas full moon in nearly 40 years starts tonight! “It just makes Santa’s job easier and Rudolf can stay home,” Chad Myers, meteorologist, says.

Christmas Moon

Our hearts, as winter tweeting birds, are beating in the astonishment. Santa is on his way! An angelic voice of our inner child is tender and crystal. Attentively we listen: “Thank You, Maria, for the Child!”:

Gloria, in excelsis Deo!

Gloria, in excelsis Deo!

Christmas

Angels we have heard on high
Sweetly singing o’er the plains,
And the mountains in reply
Echoing their joyous strains.

love your child

Shepherds, why this jubilee?
Why your joyous strains prolong?
What the gladsome tidings be?
Which inspire your heavenly songs?

Inner child

Come to Bethlehem and see
Christ Whose birth the angels sing;
Come, adore on bended knee,
Christ, the Lord, the newborn King.

santa wish

See Him in a manger laid,
Jesus, Lord of heaven and earth;
Mary, Joseph, lend your aid,
With us sing our Savior’s birth.

Gloria, in excelsis Deo!
Gloria, in excelsis Deo!

We are all Maria for our inner child. Mother loves her children. Christmas Miracle is in the newborn child you are tonight.

Merry Christmas!

Thanksgiving Choir

Hello God!
Thank You for the music we are singing in our joyful choir! Today we celebrate Thanksgiving!

“Thank you for the music” by ABBA is for now!

I am so lucky, I am the girl with golden hair
I wanna sing the grateful song to everybody
What a joy, what a life, what a chance!

Music

I’m nothing special, in fact I’m a bit of a bore
If I tell a joke, you’ve probably heard it before
But I have a talent, a wonderful thing
Cause everyone listens when I start to sing
I’m so grateful and proud
All I want is to sing it out loud.

Choir

So I say
Thank you for the music, the songs I’m singing
Thanks for all the joy they’re bringing
Who can live without it, I ask in all honesty
What would life be?
Without a song or a dance what are we?
So I say thank you for the music
For giving it to me.

I’ve been so lucky, I am the girl with golden hair
I wanna sing my grateful song to everybody
What a joy, what a life, what a chance!

Happy Thanksgiving!

 

Good Bad Teacher

Hello God!

Thank You for my teacher of the piano. My dearest friend Linda has announced the Time Machine Challenge and I can not miss the flight. So let me activate the machine teleport section and invite you to my journey!

George Goodwin Kilburne - Piano Practice

The Port 1980. I am a young girl as you see on the painting by George Goodwin Kilburn “Piano Practice”. The piano is Miracle for me. I am touching its keys with trembling little fingers and sounds are wonderful. Oh, the piano sounds are my wings, I am flying.

Angry music conductor’s voice I am hearing in my ears  – “Do not touch the piano. It is forbidden in the kinder garden”. But my dream has just born. It is just in the right time. My dream is to play the piano all my life. With hopeful heart I am looking forward the time when I will study in the musical school.

The Port 1984. I am in the musical school. It was not difficult to attend. After elementary intonation and rhythm tests I am here. You see below the painting “The first piano lesson” by Jules-Alexis Mueller.

The First Piano Lesson 

This is my second piano lesson. I do not want to play the piano anymore. My dreams about happy sounds gone with my teacher’s loud words: “You are lazy and stupid”.  I feel this heavy space in the class after my diagnosis. There are no rooms for colourful notes and dancing treble clef. Black and white keys, black and white notes in a music sheets are in my tears.

My teacher of the piano is old. Actually he is 58 y.o. but when you are 6 y.o. – 58 y.o. is almost ancient age. Soviet Moscow Conservatory gifted me my teacher. (In the portal 1984 I simply do not know that he is my gift.) He is devoted Communist. Oh, I am really lucky that the Communist Party had approved almost all classic composers. I play Bach’s Well Tempered Clavier, Beethoven’s marches and Mozart’s sonatas.

The question is how I am learned to play the piano. The teaching methods are cruel, repressive and harmful. In the teacher’s opinion I am infected with the seeds of laziness and I have no horizons to archive. “You will never become a pianist. My aim is to toughen you for later life and to instrumentalize your senses in favor of Communism builder’s functions” my teacher said.

So, I am going to be Communism builder. Daily 3 practicing hours of scales and accords help me – my teacher is sure. I hate my teacher of the piano. I hate his “black pedagogy”.

“Aaaaaaa, I can not hold it! Stop-stop it immediately. You are mediocracy! Your playing is horror for me. Beethoven was the favourite Lenin’s composer. And you are asking me about pink and romantic Schumann. No, no and no!” – the mentor chooses the repertoire for me.

Leighton Edmund Blair The Piano Lesson

The Port 1989. The painter Leighton Edmund Blair in his “The Piano Lesson” expresses my teacher’s  shock. The last year before the college has just begun and I announced that I am going to the pianistic department. I am playing Serious Variations by Mendelssohn I have learned in summer by myself.

I must study in the musical college, the pianistic department, I decide.

“Ha-ha-ha, girl, what allows you to think you are suitable for this department? Do you know that even if you will start to practice at 5.30 every morning, you are not going to be accepted, because you are untalented. Just agree and accept this fact!” – I try to keep my tears inside my eyes. I am strong and hard as stone.

“Black pedagogy” is an approach that is directed toward breaking the will of a child, in order to make it an obedient subject, with the aid of open or concealed use of force, manipulation, and repression.” My teacher is the virtuoso in this field.

This year is tough. My mother has got married the second time. At 5.30 at mornings I have a possibility just to sit and see the keys of the piano not touching its, due to my stepfather, Afghanistan survivor with damaged brain, hates the sounds. By the way he is the second motivator to leave my family.

My teethes are clenched, my tears are drained. I feel and I respect my own will.

“Listen, pupil, if you will be accepted to the college I install your golden bust near the entrance to this school by my own hands” – my teacher “promises” me the award. “Oh, poor great composers, they are whirling up and down in their coffins endlessly when you play” – my teacher “supports” me.

The new story

The Port 1990. I am trembling near the door. I will play the entrance program when it opens. I am playing etude, prelude and fuga, sonata and piece. Everything goes very well. Good technique, smooth sound, relevant penalisation are demonstrated. I know it.

I am accepted to the pianistic department in the musical college!!! The new beautiful exiting life opens its door for me.

I have never seen my good bad teacher after the entrance exam. I have no strength to meet him again…

2015. We are here now. My conclusions about this time journey are optimistic. Communist Party means nothing in this story – in every society mediocre man has a defined social role. “Black Pedagogy” may be effective but risky. To repress the will of a child is possible when you see something bigger than your “repression” in this soul. My teacher saw it. He knew he was hated by my heart and bones. He paid this heavy price for my future.

Through years of flying on the wings of the sounds of the piano I understand that my excellent and brilliant teacher of the piano is the gift from the Sky. I am endlessly grateful for the cross of our destinies.

By the way no one from my own pupils has become a musician. My methods are too soft and my knowledge is based on humanitarian approach. So who is good? My teacher of the piano is.

The film “Whiplash” is about him. I recommend to watch it.

Thank you for this possibility to share my journey. We all must grow and mostly the way is hard and painful.

The next portal in Linda’s Time Machine is the story from Scottish Island Mum. We are here to keep our hands together and tightly. Please, take my hand.