seeing the humanity and joy in our everyday
This post is for you.
My wake up call came at 1am, that is, one o’clock in the morning. Continue reading “On World Mental Health Day”
I enjoyed music. I methodically listened to my dad’s entire record collection and later on played some of those pieces (badly) on our upright piano.
It’s not gilded, it does not shine, nor sparkle, nor wow. It is not colourful; although it does have a beige tinge which I quite like.
‘So I’m supposed to tell you my story, no guidelines… That’s going to be hard! I do not know where to start.
My father passed away when I was ten years old and I was brought up by my mum and my two older sisters. They moved out of home and I went into boarding school for a while. My father had been my best friend. Continue reading “On the artist”
This story was kindly told by *Andrew.
‘One thing that did happen, I once inherited a guy, who wasn’t very well, he got Parkinson’s. His family lived far, so I used to pop up and chat with him in the evenings. And then… he passed away.
She was fifty years old, she had the bluest eyes and thick short hair. We never spoke much. Back then, we each spoke different languages. She liked to sit in her chair by the window, in the tiny kitchen, with a permanent coffee in her hand and sometimes a cigarette. I often stayed in the kitchen with her. I would take pictures and listen. Sometimes I would wash up. Ania loved to cook but hated washing up. Continue reading “On Love”