Blue Flower

Hello God!

Thank You for Blue Flower we are all gifted with. Blue Flower is Inspiration we are bringing up to realise divine blooming inside and around us.

To tell the truth I was sleeping on this page with this post almost  for two month and simply nothing was born. January had a wings and I missed him in a viscous swap of time wasting.

Than February hurries to close his door. Am I strong enough to catch the last February’s train? Or as a habit, unfortunately, cowardly close the page, excusing myself “No Inspiration”. Korean illustrator Mi-Kyung Choi expresses the words I am trying to write.

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The Cactus is inside my entity for now. He says that I am lasy and clumsy. He torches me with his thorns of my low self esteem and nourishes my cowardice and weaknesses.

“Please, write nothing and close the page. It is not worthy, it is useless. Let’s go to eBay and check out something new, or we can spend wonderful time on social media instead!”, Cactus advices. 2 or even 4 hours of massive “sitting around and nothing to do” with the evil makes the results – I am sick, my head is heavy, the page is empty.

Oh, by the way, I am watching the photos from Oscar Ceremony now – Cactus applauds – we spend tonight together… again. It is sad, because it is my time, but Cactus dictates.

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And I know about fragile Blue Flower inside. She is growing near Cactus. But her soil is endless Love and Light. She is the infinitive source of happiness. Her tinkling voice somewhere deeply inside is begging: “Please, close the imdb page with the photos from Oscar and complete the post about me. It is important for the world, it is essentially important for you. I am here with you. Trust me – I bring happiness to you!”.

So I closed the photos and I am with you to tell you about Blue Flower. She is vibrating creature and as your angel is always near you. She is mother of creativity. And she waits always patiently and tenderly when you will notice her.

My heart is full of gratefulness because Cactus is silent now, Cactus is tiny and helpless, due to my attention is with Blue Flower now. It is miraculous sense of really happy and satisfying reality! I am in flow! Oh, it seems I am in the last February’s train!

Diana Vishneva, breathtaking and stunningly beautiful, is dancing the solo in FLOW. It is exactly what I am feeling now.

You know Cactus and Blue Flower are always together. The balance between matters. “Mmmm, I have not found out really beautiful dress on the red carpet of Oscar Ceremony, let’s go to read some celebrity gossip”, Cactus winks.

Thank you for your Blue Flower you are sharing her blooming with us!

Sorry, Santa!

Hello God!

Thank You for our ability to keep the sparkle of hope inside when the whole essence is crying.

Just a moment ago I cheerfully congratulated the World with the snowball of happiness and for now… Sorry, Santa, I am sad now. The Christmas Day plane crash is the reason.

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Sorry, Santa, I do not understand

Why it was possible in Your Day!

Le Nomade in Antibes, France, reflects

My Soul where the words are useless…

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Sorry, Santa, I can not accept

This silence instead Christmas Carols.

Perhaps Alexandrov choir are singing its

For you in Sky Lapland with angels.

Sorry, Santa, for our mourning hearts,

We all have limited time to sing.

Let’s hurry! Life waits!

Merry Christmas!

Hello God!

Thank You for Christmas. It does not matter how old we are, we are becoming children now because to believe in Miracle is natural for little heart.

Sergey Anisimov, a photographer, gives us this unique possibility to touch fantastic North world where Christmas fairy tale is born.

the-first-star

Three little Stars playfully turning in the comets are gently laying on your face as a snowflakes. Joy, Love and Hope are their names. They hurry, they bring three golden keys to a New Life.

begining

We are all from the cradle. We all have met three little Stars with three golden keys. Your eye lids feels their coolness and the crystals help us to remember something very important. Why we are here? We are here to open the doors by the golden keys we are all gifted.

friend

The First Door is the World as a Big Friend. Our inner child always feel and know about friendful World. Look and feel around – we are breathing by friendly oxygen effortlessly, our body always carefully wrapped by soft brocade knitted from wind and breeze, rain and snow, light of Sun and Moon. Please remember Joy is the key and you have it in your pocket!

princess

The second door is Endless Beauty. You are the declaration of Perfection and the Key of Love opens the door. With your first inhaling and crying you are in a hands of love. Do you remember your first inhaling after the moment when you first dived in Love? You heart remembers – “Beauty is around, beauty is inside. Life is a flower I bring to your heart”. I love your smile, I love your eyes. You are beautiful.

joy

The key of Hope opens the third door of Happiness. To be optimistic is your naturally installed feature, and your heart knows it. We are all here on the journey of limited time. With every beat of heart we feel the moment as a precious. Listen to your heart and happily smile. Remember the key of Hope is yours and you know where the door.

big-fish

The golden keys we are all gifted by three Stars open the doors of Prosperity. Big Fish is in our hands. We have life! What’s the chance!

snowball

From my heart please catch the snowball of Joy, Love, Hope, Beauty, Happiness, Prosperity ! The snowball is so enormous that in one moment you will turn in a big snowman! Let’s play and celebrate!

The song is joyful and about love! “I’ll take you away, away to tundra, I’ll wrap your shoulders in the bright arctic lights…”

Merry Christmas!

God of Buttons

Hello God!

Thank You for Your Many Faces. With winter weather endlessly to button and unbutton my skirt, my shirt, my jacket and my coat I have met the God of Buttons. His name is Augusto Esquivel.

“The seat of the soul is where the inner world and the outer world meet”, German philosopher Novalis said. Tonight I have found the seat of my soul. Let me share the place with you.The Universe.jpg

My inner world and the outer world meet in my grandmother’s old can from “Quality Street” chocolates where the God lives. It is fulfilled by buttons where every button is a planet or a star. The God is creating His Universe in His Perfect Order.Edem.jpg

This is the secret meeting place where limitless wisdom is open navigating my life. The buttons are magical keepers of the stories about my family, love and dreams. The buttons remember tenderness of touching mother’s hands and my first steps in the beige sweater with apple trees and blue river, knitted by my grandmother, of course, with sparkling buttons as the Sun and cotton clouds. The buttons build the road of destiny and every buttons are the atoms creating the Perfect Universe with personal Eden.

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There is the fountain of life where every drops are joy, prosperity and trust. I see the world in those roses. The word “button” means flower’s bud. And I know about Miracle girl’s heart is asking for sewing the magical button with the words: “Rose button, rose bud keeps my beauty for Him to love”.  Trust, girl, in the button. Trust, girl, in the fountain!

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Luna Park is the embodiment of happiness. The Candy Shop with mesmerising sounds of caramel in rainbow paper con the wizard-saker scales I am feeling in my hands – God of buttons keeps my hand.

And Carousel! Between the beginnings, the first steps, and infinite, breathing worlds, these things gather together here. My child’s innocent smile with “Mama, I chose this horse!”, sparkling lights of silver and golden lamps, ancient music but with so familiar and warm sounds are saved in the buttons.  Carousel.jpg

Augusto Esquivel explains: “I realize how insignificant and small a simple sewing button can be as it lays in my grandmother’s sewing box, but at the same time how unique and precious it can become as part of a work of art. Like an atom in a molecule, each button serves and shapes the whole. I hold the button to my ear and it whispers to me, “I want to be…..”

Thank You, God of Buttons, for the place where my soul is now. Thank you, my dear friend, for your smile and I am a molecule of water in your eyes.

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!

 

 

Kupalinka Song

Hello God!

Thank You for Kupala today. We celebrate Kupala Night or Kupalle in Belorussian, one of the oldest folk holidays dedicated to the sun and water. Kupalinka, daughter of the god Kupala and the Earth opens the door to the magic time.

It is the only time of the year when Mother Nature reveals its secrets and the only time when trees speak and even move and when witches gather. White witches, of course.

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Kupalinka discovers some interesting facts about her father –  Jacob Grimm in his book Teutonic Mythology (1835) notes that the word kupala describes the bonfires slavonic folk lit at the summer solstice, and records that some people explained the word as the name Kupulo, a harvest god.

Although the word kupala (or kupalo) is usually explained as “bather” (from kupat(i) ‘to bathe’). According to Russian philologists Vyacheslav Ivanov and Vladimir Toporov, the name Kupala is derived from the same Indo-European root as the name of  Cupid, Roman god of love, which means “passion” or “desire”. Kupala is Slavonic Cupid!

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There is an ancient Kupala belief that the eve of Ivan Kupala is the only time of the year when ferns bloom.

Thanks to the fern flowers, which blossom for only several moments at midnight, all the buried treasures could be seen, no matter how deep they were in the ground. Prosperity, luck, discernment and power would befall on whoever finds a fern flower.

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Please listen Kupalinka song and enjoy the video below where Kupala is celebrated!

Kupalinka, Kupalinka
It’s dark in the night
It’s dark in the night
Where is your daughter, Kupalinka?

My daughter is in the garden
She weeds the rose
She weeds the rose
And wounds her white hands.

She picks the flowers
She picks the flowers
And weaves garlands
She weaves garlands and sheds tears.

I wish you to find your blooming fern flower tonight, and your dearest wish will come true.

Thank you for sharing with me this very magical moment!

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.

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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.

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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!”

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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.

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“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.”

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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.