SPARKLING FROSTY MORNINGS

A childhood scenery. A house that I passed every morning on the way to school. It was a long way and all the children in the neighborhood got a taxi ride. There was a lot of time to wait in the crossroad before the taxi gathered us all. No lampposts, winter mornings were cold and dark alone. Always waiting when the two roaring lights would appear from behind the forest curves.

The house I passed every morning and afternoon is my old neighbor house and there were two boys, twins, who I babysat for 10 years. Last December I painted as a commission their house and the boys as children in their beloved wellingtons. Fetching logs to keep the house warm on a frosty morning. Wellingtons which they loved on cold winter or hot summer days. Inside their grandmother would butter a bread and cut it in cubes with a knife and give it to their beautiful first dog, Kipi, piece by piece, staring and giving each others time enough.

Have a good late morning, and a good new week!

WHITE HEAVY LACE FROM SKY

Windy and stormy. Cold hands. First snow. Just lovely.

TREASURE BOX

Words on a postcard, words on an envelope. Words handwritten in between words printed. Words coming through mailbox, in magazines, newspapers. Words on the radio. So many words put together, always a new meaning. Words through a phone, making me laughing.

For the words handwritten, I made a box to keep them safe. Knitting while layers of paint are drying. Small birds of summer forests have moved to the town and are now seeking for winter food in balconies and yards. No breadcrumbs, but maybe a pocketful of seeds secretly to the lilacs bushes of the yard (which is strongly forbidden).

Warm Wednesday thoughts,

Anna Emilia

IT LOOKS LIKE SPRING, YET IT IS AUTUMN

One can get confused of the colors outside. The greyest tree, going to the winter´s sleep had pink dots hanging like strangers in its branches. Tree, the winter is coming and you cannot scare it away with your beautiful colors. On Tuesday it might be snowing. Or not.

A weekend of my favorite radio host playing records. A weekend of an inspiring lecture by Halldór Úlfarsson and the instrument he is building. A weekend of street musicians. A girl playing in winter clothes, picking strings and singing. A bit further a boy and a bagpipe. A bit more further a boy and a guitar. Happy home-coming of pedaling.

The most fragile, still very strict handwriting of my grandmother in a postcard thanking for remembering her 90-years birthday in the summer.

Now brushes, paper and watercolors. A bit of the cold wind through a closed window. Later bicycling up a hill of colorful wooden houses.

How has your weekend been?

Apple pie and tea,

Anna Emilia

FEATHER ISLANDS, LAND OF DREAMS

Is it a tail of a lion which colors all these mornings golden? As quickly as it comes just after the sun reaches above the tree tops, as quickly it also turns to a more colder and brighter color. Just moments. All those yellow polka dots in the trees I would like to protect from the asphalt and a rake with a piece of tape. To make them hang and sway through the winter.

The article that I illustrated tells about sleeping and good dreams. "Sleeping is not about being lazy, but a responsibility." Enough, but not too much while being in the feather islands.

Michael and Neil sent me a wonderful postcard, an original painting by them. Thank you so much!

Lunchtime. Clinking and clanking while a parsnip soup boils,

Anna Emilia

P.s. Edit: The first image was forgotten.

BROTHER AND HIS LITTLE SISTER

There is a secret message between a wall dividing our rooms at our parent´s. It is written on a piece of a cross-ruled paper with a pencil and it was a try of our safe plan if another one of us would become bored with friends visiting. I have forgotten what that message says, but it was supposed to be a secret help shout to the other one to come and rescue the situation. "It is just a sound of a mouse", when pushing a note to the other side of the wall. Next time I will pull it from that secret hole and read it again.

Weekend was a pretty one, mist layering everything most of the times. Relatives, food and sauna in the darkness. In candle light, wrapped in towels with lady relatives, we sat outside of the sauna. In a sudden all the chatter was gone. A lonely swan was crying while flying over the black lake. Something had to have happened to the bird as the voice was so sad. The saddest sound I heard in a long time. Maybe the bird´s loved one was gone.

The timber summer house was snoring, I slept with earplugs on.

Happy new week, sounds and scents of a moss green forest!

(Second picture taken by my brother.)

ONE RASPBERRY CAKE, PLEASE

Hello dear October,

Lovely to have you here.

Sounds of woolen socks on the wooden floor. Mist covering everything. Would it be like this to live in a glass of soya milk? Mornings with candles, evenings with candles. Paint strokes on a light blue background. Light pink, turquoise and brown.

Finishing some paintings, bicycling to the post office to send orders, going to search for a vanilla colored white wool, heading to a summerhouse nearby with my family, knitting that wool (hopefully) to a hat to keep ears warm.

How are you?

October wishes, weekend wishes, warm thoughts,

Anna Emilia

P.s. Mama, keep your eyes closed till Monday as this is your birthday card!