COWGIRL

On the way to visit a friend last night, we met some of the neighbors. They were very friendly, all had names starting with the letter i. The shyest one came finally to greet, with a star on her forehead. Her name was Iltapuku, "Evening Dress". Kisses were very wet and sweet.


"The grass is greener on your side", I told them.


How they are so gorgeous, with their eyes and kind minds. How they stand with their thin ankles.


Have a happy weekend with some greetings of furry friends!


(The fourth photo by M.)

TREE HOUSE

Late evenings are dark already. Stars appear to shine in the ceiling of that black. Like friends, appearing after a long time. There have been good evenings sitting under their twinkle.

More layers to wear on those late evenings. Maybe this small Tree House could be a place to stay and gaze above. Through leaves and jasmine flowers the stars would wave. A custom painting which flew over The North Atlantic Ocean.

Oceans, what lies in their bottoms? Under-water mountains, like the longest mountain range. Maybe some messages in bottles. Dropped shoes and cameras. Homes of animals and plants that we won´t see. A lot to dream about with mystical colors. A lot to protect on our beautiful Earth.

Mellow weekend greetings to you, stay well.

P.s. Tree House is now available as a print for pre-order, here.

SOUNDSCAPE OF YESTERDAY

Rattle of fallen leaves in the wind. Bicycle tire banging into footpath, dark grey asphalt with sand here and there. Traffic lights peeping. Warm hug of a friend and a smile welcoming. Coffee house door opening, closing and opening again with a little sound of a humble bell. Hot drinks outdoors, café owner comes to wrap us to blankets like her own children. Spoons circling around inside the cups. Passer-bys with strong taps or lighter thumps. A boy like dancing with his school bag, a light soul, no homework.

Back to home in wind, meetings of other bicycles, red, black, grey ones on the way. Breaks of the bus number 15 make familiar rhythm in crossroads. Like the game that I played when I was smaller, always going home, eyes closed in a car, guessing in which curve we are.

Home, paper rattles, pencil lines. Water boiling. Knife cutting apples. Evening walk, sun is silent, vegetation is silent, turning yellow red purple pink. Only a few lost bees clattering inside bushes and crows cawing on lamp posts showing their area. Bowing deep, like doormen with fine top hats.

Bows and curtseys, happy morning!