Thank You for the feeling of Miracle we are all full in the anticipation of Christmas. Miracle is on the way, and we have the most beautiful weekend in the year dreaming about something very desirable.
With the photos by Svetlana Pavlovskaya in my anticipation of Christmas Miracle I am writing “Murrforbidden Fruit”.
In the middle of MurrParadise is the Murrforbidden Fruit…
Two rings of sausages with salt and spices are in my eyes,
It is so tempting and seductive with a skin around –
Thank You for Madrid I was blessed to dance in. It was incredibly happy experience of the hugging and rhythm by handsome Macho Madrid.
I suppose that the word “macho” in the modern environment sometimes has the negative connotation, means for example “a man who is aggressively proud of his masculinity”. As for me it is associated with “a man’s responsibility to provide for, protect, and defend his woman and family”.
I love Madrid. He inspires in every steps dancing with him.
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”.
My dear friend, her name is Ollie Joy, is a beautiful and gentle cow.
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.
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!
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.
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!
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”.
Thank You for Halloween. Tonight we are going to have a great Legonight!
I invite you in Denmark. Billund is the city where Lego was born and Legoland is fantastic there.
The Haunted House is welcoming you, “Through the open doors
The harmless phantoms on their errands glide,
With feet that make no sound upon the floors…”
Boo!
And handsome vampire is smiling, inviting to
“The spirit-world around this world of sense
Floats like an atmosphere, and everywhere
Wafts through these earthly mists and vapours dense
A vital breath of more ethereal air…”
Boo!
Boo!
“So from the world of spirits there descends
A bridge of light, connecting it with this,
O’er whose unsteady floor, that sways and bends,
Wander our thoughts above the dark abyss.”
The poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
“Halloween rituals turn horror into play, death into levity, gore into laughter,” says UC Berkeley psychologist Dacher Keltner.
Off with your head, Dance till you are dead, Heads will roll – ha, ha, ha!
So thank you for our Spooky Legonight! Your laughing is really inspiring!
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.
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.