Sunday, 6 December 2015

The Wind Is Roaring...

December winds are roaring, melancholic Christmas tunes are sounding. The words written by Aleksandr Blok over a hundred years ago still manage to stir, to move, to touch. Ante Lucem.

Sunday, 20 September 2015

Right now.

Two pens and a notebook. One cup of strong coffee. I collect notebooks and journals, especially from my travels. This one is from Istanbul. (my boyfriend collects magnets). Life would be very boring without paper and pens. Last weekend we were in Slovakia and I spent a good two hours on searching for a suitable diary. At the end I had to buy two of them because I couldn't choose which one was nicer☺

Thursday, 10 September 2015

How I Love Stockholm In The Morning

Fog, mist, drowsy cafés. The crispy air of autumn and lazy sunrays trying to make it through the clouds.
The sharp feeling of nothingness when memories of a time long gone hit through to the surface at the moment when the hand touches the wooden door.
Yesterday I finally held a sword in that very same hand. Not a real one, yet a sword. It made me feel graceful, powerful. One day I will be dancing with a sword in my hand.

Saturday, 5 September 2015


The Latvian capital is the perfect destination for a weekend, or even for a day. Lots of monuments, old buildings and great food. What struck me the most was the silence, the calmness.

I would recommend Riga to anyone who seeks history, cozy moments and a treat for oneself or someone special.
Riga is an old Hansaic town by the Baltic sea. The architecture witnesses of thriving times. For those interested in recent history , I strongly recommend the Museum of the Occupation of Latvia - here one learns more about the turbulent 20th century in a country so often not mentioned abroad. 

This was not my first time in Riga. Around 1992 a friend of my mother's took me there. I probably owe that lady a lot for introducing me to the wonders of travelling. My memories of that first trip are vague. It took place right after Latvian independence, so my child eyes mostly paid attention to the lack of food in the shops. The Freedom Monument stands as talk today as she did in the 90s. As for my mother's friend - she passed away some years ago and I never had the chance to thank her for widening my world. 

Sunday, 2 August 2015

Beginning of Autumn

Hello August! A time of year that makes me somewhat melancholic. Autumn is always a new beginning, more so than the new year, but at the moment nothing new and exciting is happening. Must come up with a project of some kind...

Here the summer has been awful. I kid you not, there have been about three days of sunshine. While the rest of Europe has been suffering from an intolerable heatwave, we have been listening to the smattering of raindrops.

Yesterday was one of those sunny days. It is amazing what some sun does to you.

Thursday, 30 July 2015

Places: Gothenburg

Did I ever tell tou about the trip to fabulous Gothenburg? The weekend before last we packed our bags for a visit to Sweden's second city, Gothenburg on the west coast. The city was a surprise, not at all as compact as I thought it'd be. It is a great place for hanging out with friends, enjoying an ice - cream in the park. For the first time I tried Persian food (have no idea how I've managed not trying Persian food) and it was delicious. So, the trip was great and I'd love to go again - especially to visit the penguins ☺

Saturday, 25 July 2015

In Your Face

 Now that I know how this works, I'll never leave you alone. In the world of selfie-perfection - and perfection in general - it feels good to remind oneself about the imperfections that are sometimes hidden, sometimes not. The size of the imperfection is not what matters, what matters is how it makes you feel. 

Friday, 24 July 2015

Chasing Sunsets

The long and dreary boat journey home. Drunk people debating politics and tax money. German tourists drinking beer in a slightly more civilised a fashion. And the sunsets. The sunsets make the trip worthwhile. 

Spectacular Stories

How is this ever going to make a spectacular story? So many tales have been told about anxious teen years and unhappy memories. Word after word on a sheet of paper that is no longer real paper from trees but an electronic device that tracks every step of every minute that makes up this fabulous life.

I have seen faces today. Faces of people who spent years and years in a sun-soaked classroom with me. I cannot recall their names, I hope they do not recognise my face. Privacy, anonymity,  I  cherish thee.

And there is a notebook. Made from real trees and there is a picture of an Istanbul tram on it. And ink of different colours fill its pages. But those pages do not tell the story they are supposed to tell - the story of this spectacular life.

Speaking of spectacular, have you noticed that the title of a book is the main reason you pick it from the shelf? Travesuras de la nina mala. Finnish translations are the best - somehow Master and Margarita became When the Devil Arrived In Moscow. How could one not feel tempted to read a book with that title?

P.s. I will try the ap and yes, I do speak Finnish☺