Uhur's dreams

This little dragon, sleeping in the sand, is Uhur~ He's one of the most big hearted creatures I've ever met... one day he told me a story about his 'sleeping period'... You see, he's a happy dragon... he brings happiness to everyone that is : ) He works a lot, flying around the world and hugging people and animals, when they need comfort... After so much travelling, he gets tired and has his sleeping period for about three weeks and at that time he worries a lot in his sleep: how is that old lady doing, has she got better yet? How is that puppy's leg healing? Did the boy find his bike? Has she mended her heart already?...and so on... He dreams and dreams about all he has met through his travels and worries... deep in his heart he is gaining strength, so right after he's awake he could travel again. He loves everybody this much, You see... and then I asked him, if I could come and hug him in his sleep, because he worries so much and maybe he could feel better. He said 'yes'. ♥

the voice

I hold my old unicorn close to my chest and listen to her whispering... What is it about the words of the mystical beings, that right after you hear them, you forget? I'm quite sure, that all she was telling, were very important things. And just like after any other dream, I wake up with a slight feeling of emptiness and yet- hope, that I will see her again and then listen more carefully. 

I draw her portraits, try to outguess her name and call her, I ask others if anybody has seen her, but all remains the same- she comes when she's willing and speaks the words I keep forgetting... I can only hope, that my body remembers, so I can dance it out... and as I listen to the distant drumming I dance with every cell and embrace every story, every emotion, that I'm given. Cry out loud from my chest the dreams of tomorrow...

And then she comes again- on a blank sheet of paper she leaves her trace and whispers gently the most important things...

...someday.

I'll remember. 

at 27

... finding childhood lullabies and dress buttons somehow exceptionally moving. 

... it's difficult to explain how things that You should have been crazy about at 14 and weren't, are so meaningful  now. How those things suddenly make You understand what You were supposed to hear back then, what were supposed to be the lessons... 

And it actually makes me smile, while thinking about it... I guess we all have our own time for the dialogue. 

king of my thoughts

.walking into the night with the same voice. 

... don't let me know, we're invisible.

about the wind

 ... in the dusty hallways of my own wistfulness I run barefoot and leave traces bigger than me... by a single sound I recognize a song I knew and I tremble... becalm for a moment... the walls filled with sounds and mirrors start to melt...and I open my chest so widely, it echoes. "Why are all my walls made of candles?..."- I wonder when I feel the dawn on my fingertips... "and why... at the perfect moment, when the light changes, I sense the presence of Death?"... 

as if she's always there...

With walls melting, all the bird songs in my chest are unprotected, transparent, exposed... they toss and turn with no rest and leave me scratched from the inside. I sing in whisper, trying to ease them... remembering all the songs my mother taught me, but they don't give comfort any more. I cut the ropes and ribbons that connect me to her world with no regret and sometimes so easily, it makes me think about how similar, yet different we are, were or could be... I held to her memory so tightly, I could not see myself in the mirror... and yet I stand in the middle of a field.. no walls any more, no corners for shadows..., with silenced uneasy bird songs in my chest... and there is nothing but the wind. 

It touches my breath, dances with it for a while, then let's it go... and I can hear it. 

I can hear my own breath and I start to wake up, the whole me... 

there's no scratching inside my chest, no songs reminded, no ribbons, no ropes, no answers... no stars upon me, no walls surrounding me... only the sound of my breathing. I dive into it and my hole body is filled with water... there are no other feelings- only longing

... how sweet it can be. 

12 brothers~

... first visions about the 12 brothers turned into crows...

breath of life

... as I was recollecting the pieces of my self, going through a dream of a thousand touches, when right in front of me... stood a woman, with blackness braided in her hair... she screamed- the rocks shattered, she trembled her eyelashes- the armies fell... and yet she felt nothing, but sorrow. 

... her dresses soaked in raven's eyes, kept it hidden... until she undressed. Lakes of salty water in her eyes, milk and blood on her finger tips... always on this verge of breaking down and taking everything with her... 

As I embrace her in my thoughts and make peace with all her ravens, I'm back in a dream again... 

I braid my hair, whisper my wishes, say hello to sorrow, as we pass by each other... touch my fingers, look into the eyes, sink into the night skies and breathe. 

With truths untold stuck in my throat and no dresses, soaked in raven's eyes, protecting me, I take a chance of a painfully satisfying version of me, who doesn't cry over fallen kingdoms... 

I stand straight in front of my mirror and am not afraid of anything he might show. 

"Come what may" whispers my heart and lips tremble. 

He looks me deep in the eyes. 

I take a slow breath and he shows me that woman I can be. 

With blackness braided in her hair, in a straight stance she appears before me and whispers softly: "Mirror, mirror..." 

...there is a field in my old town...

... "I don't want only four days to come back to" cries my heart and I hold her closely... It's hard to keep her in my chest these days...  with all my totems, with all my open body, with all my stories I keep walking. Shoes filled with blood give me comfort... I can still bleed.
On the first day of the Moon I pick myself up, gather all my hair, put all my stones in my pockets, take first steps... cry a little, bandage my feet up, steps... a few more... then take of my shoes, pour all the rivers out and leave them be.
- Feet, meet the Ground. You have to become friends.
With a warm earthy smell, the Ground welcomes me, and I walk her paths, with no shoes and no rings protecting my soul... I keep the eyes hidden for my unicorns, so they wouldn't see... how seamlessly a girl becomes a woman..., how strongly attached I was to my cradle, as if I had to brake my fingers to let go, the unicorns tremble... Now fully grown, just out of the the sashes, with suns and moons in my hair, I stand and at this moment and ask for nothing more than the path for my feet... and butterflies...

the Moon~

... I cradle myself in an imaginary ship on waters... my ship is full of animals and birds... they're filled with light and softness. Inside that softness I hide all my childhood fairy tales and songs I don't remember words to. Inside those words, that I don't remember- only the Moon... only the Moon with all her canyons and dry rivers, with all her silver and all her might, only the Moon with her many dresses and my hands upon her. Like a dearest friend I hold her closely... she sings in whisper. Her song overwhelms my finger tips, my wrists, my elbows, shoulders, lips and heart... sits there for a moment... waiting. Waiting for a little girl, with laughter of a thousand sparrows, a maiden with hair of silk and gold, a mother of many and a Grandmother with eyes of wisdom... They meet in one place to say their prayers and wishes for the ones to come..., the ones who will be cradled in an imaginary ship on waters, full of animals and birds, who are filled with light and softness...

of my fingers in Water...

...the Moons in me shift and turn... turn and turn... and I'm wearing my body, still trying to understand what it's made from... the Waters in me take shape: the proud grey Elephant- stomping, awakening my courage... it's loud these days..., soft tender Whale in me sings the prayers for Life, for my Ancestors..., for the silent echoes of the things to come..., the Deer in me, fast, as only she can- runs and runs, leaving all the hunters behind... runs and runs... It's so hard to stop... and do I really want to? 

...So hard I wished for my Waters to become that gentle Stone, that is there for generations, unmoved, strong, knowing... but by wishing that, I feel a crack appearing in me and with more time passing, it was getting bigger and bigger... just now I understand that all, what's inside- it has to be sung out, run out, written out, spoken out... whispered out, sat in silence for a while, then danced out, screamed out, cried out and after a while, after running with Waters in me, it starts to feel... it starts to feel, how in a place of my Heart birds make their nest, how in a place of my Womb roots of my Tree appear, how in a place of my Mind clear skies are open... 

... So here's me- unsettled, unsteady, untranquil, restful... with Winds in me, with Storms, with Rivers... with searching, with singing, with screaming, with Love... and with all this noise and uproar, I hit the glass like a summer bird... it's odd, how it seems, we are cared for, but all we are is a Planet in a glass box to look at. 

Maybe tomorrow the lid opens and my Deer will run to the Stars, just to run... 

elephant waiting for a friend, part 2

... in the frail moment of strength and confidence something brakes and it starts raining in my chest. Only for a moment I let myself be sunk with water, just for a while... to remember how to swim... then I float up, breath in deep all the whispers of Your dreams I keep in secret, and make them mine. The ones I don't cry about to anyone, the ones that make me tremble at night and think: " is this happening somewhere?"... In some close- distant world of hours full of mirrors and glass doors, vital with all we weren't fearless to become, dreams that were Yours and became mine are living. And this fills my heart with such sad proud feeling... that it makes me think of steps I took in an empty room and danced before crowds... and just before the ending the girl in me, whose story I was telling, stops and looks around... No one listens, no one watches... and it gets easier. Though, still... when my hair down catching a light through the windows and thoughts deep within I wish to be watched by someone to keep me here. If we create what we see... I'm still not finished.

journey crochet toy

...ok, my first EVER crochet toy... good to start from what I really want myself. So here's the firs attempt to make a journey character in white toy... It lacks of some detail and accuracy, but I will do better next time! This was just for training. (8,5 cm tall.)

journey

... in times when bridges between people are burnt down or fractured, when a simple attempt to be close and intimate to someone is followed by fear or mistrust, come characters without a curse of spoken word... bringing empathy and intuition, that we so long forgot, to our lives again.... and you cannot stop thinking about their world... their songs follow you in your night dreams and you wake up with a wonderful thought- something great might happen today: I cold meet someone in that world and become friends in a glimpse, because we are no different- we sing the same, we dance the same, we dress the same and we breathe in all the beauty of journey the same... there are no borders, no wars, no social differences, nothing that could make us judge each other. Together in this vast beautiful world to explore... till the final moment, final destination, standing by each others side and breathing in all the wonder, when all there is- Life itself, all in this world is celebrating Life...  

elephant waiting for a friend~

...it's been a long time. Time for melting chocolate and sour berries... Time for searching very important things in my heart... memory is a weird thing... it's never the way things really were. Atmosphere of wonderful illusions and sunlight through the curtains... Stomping my own little me with all the things I thought were true and I created them. I created crashing castles and burning rivers, I created flowers in the shade and heavy rocks, I created my protectors and my enemies... Now it's only little me standing in an empty field full of nothing with a big wish to create. Only now I know, that I have to be careful... Careful with words, careful with stained glass feelings and strangled fears of Dreams.

I'm remembering what I wanted to be... and it hurts. It still hurts...and now by seeing clearly my reflection I know that this is just a reflection... I'm bigger than this. I can hold forests in my palms, I can draw on the sky and play run away games with clouds by creating gentle breeze with my breath... I can hide hunted animals in my hair and pray so loudly, the Earth would echo...