a sketchy line;
the incomplete stroke zooms in my mind.
An unfinished cup,
a half moon of joy;
the curiosity irrigates my youthful soul.
an ephemeral imprint of light;
the riddle of sun with the Earth – touching its skin.
The lips of a beauty,
nor innocent neither evil;
their duet of seduction, a tango of questions, the yin craving the yang;
harmony is where you find it.
Opened eyes, thirsty soul, unsettled heart,
all quenched and sated when calm invites peace into your mind.
WHAT DO YOU THINK? a notepad at the Fundació Joan Miró teased my brain. I had to take a stash of the comment cards with me from my most recent visit in Barcelona. Once in a while, I get into the “mood” and scribble something on it.
Le Thoronet Abbey is a former Cistercian monastery built on the brink of twelfth and thirteenth century in Provence. The Romanesque gem is sited between the truffledom of Lorgues and Brignoles, near which Alain Ducasse’s Hostellerie de L’Abbaye de la Celle invites your for a superb Michelin meal and a room to stay.
I took Islamic and Japanese calligraphy lessons while in Marrakech and Kyoto last year. Penetrating the centuries old culture of the pen and ink, I was wowed by its accent on precision. Handwriting needn’t slip into antiquity, but all of us should connect our hands and the brain through its artful whoops and strokes.
A daily ritual of drinking tea calms my mind, but sharing it with a dear friend, a tantalising conversationalist or a mysterious stranger offers more.
Hiking and walking in nature regularly replenishes my urban lifestyle. Strolling through the art forest at Château La Coste in Provence, an optical installation by Tom Shannon, the “Drop” caught my eye. As the angle of the day’s sun shifts, the oak trees wield a majestic brush over the landscape, and so do the artworks installed on the inspiring property.
When working in fashion, I was told often that my lips are perfectly shaped. Their harmony is not boring though. In their sensuality they suggest, seduce if they wish or whisper the unspoken into the ether of the inner world.
My yogic insight has deepened over the past year, with gratitude to my new Indian teacher, Madhu. Yet, it was an injury and accumulation of disharmony in my physical body that deepened my awareness. We abuse our bodies so much, I learned that balance is the remedy to all human sorrows.
As a teenager, I used to write poetry in my native Czech. I did not dare to publish anything. I’m still embarrassed for my English, the language I taught myself through life. Still, over the past year I craved to play with words again, like in the olden days, when youthful emotions showered my mind with words. This morning I wrote the above poem and decided to let it fly. Its wings are free and they liberate my shy soul.
As the blank notepad I took suggests, let me know what you think?
What are you inspired by? What blocks you from expressing your creativity?