Valentine’s Wheel

Hello God!

Thank You for Valentine!

Millions of emotions Valentine brings in our relationship and we are all go through the colorful wheel of feelings when we are in love. Sometimes it is exciting, sometimes it is disgusting. I am grateful for Dr. Robert Plutchik who created a wheel of emotions.

 

Wheel of Emotions.jpg

Robert Plutchik suggested 8 primary bipolar emotions: joy versus sadness; anger versus fear; trust versus disgust; and surprise versus anticipation. Additionally, his circumplex model makes connections between the idea of an emotion circle and a color wheel. Like colors, primary emotions can be expressed at different intensities and can mix with one another to form different emotions.

Emotions.jpg

Augustina Guerrero illustrates what exactly I feel after we have some arguments about our different approaches to something, anything. Ha-Ha!

Fear → feeling of being afraid he will never ever forever know what I feel.

Anger → feeling angry of his silence.

Sadness → feeling sad – my husband does not understand my tears.

Disgust → feeling something is wrong or nasty, of course, I am tired and you, my husband, have no idea how. Sure, many women understand what I am talking about.

Joy → feeling happy. I am happy because you kiss and hug me when you return home every evening.

Surprise → I love being unprepared for your invitation to a concert and a glass of champagne after it.

Trust → When we closed the heart-shaped lock in Paris and the key was thrown to Seine many years ago I trusted to you all my life with all my complexity of emotions and reactions and I accepted your life with all your breathes and every beats of your pulse. And you know our differences are nothing because of endless Love between us.

Anticipation → the sense of looking forward our Valentine’s tonight with candles, roses and Moonlight Sonata is super inspiring. Because of this sense you are smiling and reading my words.

“Letting go, letting go
Telling you things you already know
I explode, I explode
Asking you where you want us to go”  –  I am singing with Melanie Martinez knowing that Valentine leads us to love each other.

Thank you for sharing with me the Valentine’s Wheel. And you know what, despite we are all different, if your heart happily sings with the other in unison – forgive an unimportant things faster and easier and remember about Love.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

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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.

 

Dark Twin

Hello God!

Thank You for Halloween. We are in the town of Fear, where Horror pulls us down. Svetlana Bobrova, the photographer, helps you to see what I am writing about. So it is time to meet your daaaaark twin.

I am your Fear,

Your darkest twin brother.

Your body fills with a dreadful chill,

When I am near.

By why? I am your mirror.

Paralyzed? Oh, it is just the beginning.

Halloween Horror

Come to me and let me hug you!

Soon we’ll be one instead of two,

I shall take you with me into my woody coffin…

You turn the switch, seeking light.

Ha-ha-ha-ha! The bulb is dead.

We are alone tonight, my darling,

We are together.  No light came…

You think of going back to bed.

Antidepressants – please, do not forget!!!

Dark Twin

I take you under the ground,

I make you run and hide –

My ghosts are pale and white –

You sweat and tremble, Why?

Blood-sucking Vamps and zombies

Walk around… You scream!

“I am not dead. I am in my bed – not woody coffin!”

Your mind is drifting and whirling around…

Calm night

It is just a dream you can change every moment.

You are alive. Accept your dark twin, fear, you’ll find peace.

Happy psychotherapist is growing roses –

Antidepressants do not work, a smell of roses he prescribes!

Thank You for this possibility to meet my own dark twin. I am laughing with her, and we are a good company in smelling roses together. You can join.

Have a beautiful night!

 

50 days of silence

Hello God!

Thank You for this possibility to come back. I have never even suspected that coming back is so hard.

I am writing the 15th version of this post now due to the words are stumbling on each others. Its are in hurry to see Your beautiful smile. I missed You very much. I missed my wings which are Your reading eyes.

The wings that follow me

are breathing with my lungs

Breeze of your joy wakes me up

My dream was sweet…

But I want to be awaken

I want to be with You!

You see my angel on this amazing painting by Marina Chaikovskaya.

Silence

I have found a very nice book “Silence. The Mystery of Wholeness” by Cheryl Sanders-Sardello. Look what he writes, “The enormity of life’s tasks weigh and press on the day… they demand and insist on a constancy of attention that is relentless. Ah… but we are fortunate to have night’s solace – in the silence that is created by the dark”.

The Author continues, “Night… that melancholy time, when the stars remind us of the silence of God. Here we can remember the future and lean into the unknown, setting aside the oppressive weight of our carefully constructed version of who we think we are, and release that side of the pool. We can remember how to see in the dark… with our ears… perceiving the silence in its holy echoing and resonance, its calling forth a knowing that is from soul”.

“This silence sends us on a different pilgrimage. It guards the heart’s fire and teaches us to speak from within, with a language that is imbued with the sacred. Words thus nurtured in this holy silence fly forth with the wings of joy, and return to lead us back to the silence from which they were born.” What a beautiful words! The sounds of Chopin’s nocturne are in my ears.

Silence is a treatment for soul. And as a therapy by drugs silence demands the particular dosage. You know silence is seductive and narcotic. Overdosing is dangerous.

Once I had found myself as a fly trapped in a spider’s web. I do hope I have escaped the web by the wings that follow me. You are my wings. Thank You for my awakening.

Jewellery Box

Hello God!

Thank You for my jewellery box I keep my treasures in. Every girl genetically loves her jewellery box. You know why? Because every jewellery box you have ever seen keeps a secret always involving a heart of owner. Her romantic heart and the finer things of life the jewellery box contains…

Let’s open the heavy door of the Chateau de Josselin, Brittany, France.

Jewel

As a cunning fox, as my curious daughter wants to see inside my jewellery box, we try to open the lid of the beautiful jewellery box we have found on the table. What is the secret inside? “Ni vous sans moi, ni moi sans vous” (“Neither you without me, neither I without you”) my cheeks are red a little because of touching a love story. Oh la,la, the French love love.

Jewellery

The history of France says L’Amour (Love) is the Ruler and Le Plaisir (Pleasure) is the Constitution. This architectural Masterpiece proves the statement. Everybody around this castle was in love. Do you feel it?

Jewelery

There are a soft fire of the rubies, there are the brilliant purple of the amethysts, and the sea green of the emeralds – all shining together in incredible union. We are mesmerised by treasures of the jewellery box and we can just imagine a love moments its keep inside.

JewelleryBox

The best way to see a love moments you try to imagine seeing inside of the jewellery box is to take your soulmate by hand and go to eat an ice cream in a cafe you have met then under an umbrella kiss each other as at the first time. It was raining, do you remember?

The hand written notes we have found should be kept in every jewellery box on our planet. “Neither you without me, neither I without you”,please, write her a note. Her heart and jewellery box will keep it forever with the secret of your happiness. The Ruler is Love, by the way. The French know it for sure. So do we now.

Thank you for sharing with me this romantic and full of love moment.

Magic Pot

Hello God!

Thank You for healing herbs I use in a treatment of season’s cold. Yes, I and my daughter have a cold. It is terrible to lift up my sleepless glassing head, barking cough is loud and my crying nose works bad. Sometimes it happens, so the picture is well known for our cold and rainy fall.

The worst thing is my child is sick. The last night was difficult. The symptoms were the same besides the temperature of the body, mine was normal, my daughter’s was high. I try to keep the sane approach and do not call to the emergency immediately (it is really hard to do it “keep the sane approach”). My daughter is 5 y.o and for this time I have learned to trust mother’s intuition. “Nothing to be afraid, she is Ok, high temperature is a normal reaction of healthy child on the attaking virus” I heard my intuition’s voice. It were right and today’s morning the temperature have become normal and we begun our treatment. The main hero is a magic pot we use for steam inhalation with dry herbs.

Pot

On the photo above you see the instruction how to use it. These vintage wonderful pots are from France and I have found its in the house we rented. Due to its grand age the pot is decorative element of the bathroom.

Pots

I tell you the story why our pot for steam inhalation is magic. Asking a 5 y.o. child to sit calm and breath by steam for even 2 minutes is difficult. Our story is about little Virusishka who lives with his mother Viruska and father Virus on the planet Virusiania. Yesterday Virusishka was playing near the spaceship of his father, to be inside was strictly forbidden. But the little child was naughty and went inside the spaceship. Virusishka have found a lot of colour buttons inside and, playing, push the red button “Start” and the spaceship flied to Cosmos. By a happy circumstances our hero have found Margo, my daughter, and he desperately wants to find a way to his mother and father. So by inhaling steam of eucalyptus with mint herbs we help Virusishka to find a way to home. By breathing a magic sparkling steam we are becoming healthy and Virusishka are free to fly to his planet Virusiania. The happy end.

Thank you for sharing this beautiful moment. I wish you to stay healthy and have a wonderful weekend.

Happy Clearness

Hello God!

Thank You for my happy Soviet school years. Perhaps you can catch some satirical notes in my statement, but I am serious I am happy to be educated in the USSR.

My school years cover the period from blooming to crashing the USSR (1981 – 1991). The same period defines the Cold War where USSR and USA were main enemies. My dear friend Sindy from USA has written in comment that she remembers from her childhood: “We were all raised with the threat of nuclear war.”

We were raised with the certain confidence we are the Peace (Makers and Givers) Angels . Of course the word “angel” was forbidden in the USSR due to there were no place for religions. What’s the advantage, I can afford to use the word in describing the Communist’s country now!

Simple

I have met in a different opinions of clever people such as philosophers, sociologists, historians, that Soviet education was extremely politicized. I partly agree, because everything which is “extremely” too black or white.

Black and white was a comfortable conception Soviet propaganda used with great success. We, children, clearly understood who winner was. Additional politicizing was not necessary.

Simply

Myth and Reality

The educational standards were high, even higher than in the modern ex-USSR countries. We were busy reading “War and Peace” by Tolstoy, by the way in the whole volume, and playing the favorite Lenin’s sonata “Appassionata” by Beethoven in musical school.

Did you know that foreign language was compulsory for learning from the 4th grade in Soviet school? German and English were popular due to historical reasons. Italian and French were for future artists and musicians.

Simple3

Be vigilant, people!

You see the posters from my school. We, Soviet children, had no chance to be frightened by our worst enemy USA. We were protected and happy because of this clearness of understanding.

You know to protect citizens is the main aim of every governments. What do we observe today?

Thank you for sharing this moment with me. I am happy to think with you.