the high river bank, she began to paint…
Sky. River bend. Steep coast…
And then for some reason she wanted to draw some buttercup in the foreground.
The yellow buttercup seemed to have the same height as the dark tree on a high slope.
The law of perspective.
Unlike wood, the buttercup was more alive…
After all, she wanted to write out every vein on his petals…
And now you told me your dream.
I don't know, maybe you already forgot about it. Maybe you saw it a little different. But my imagination, like a hungry puppy, continues to return to that situation in search of a place where the «bone» was once buried… In this case, the imagination does not let go of the picture that has appeared and is now overgrown with details.
Sounds. Different sounds.
And then there are poems. Either they are born in my head, or this is how air fills the space…
They seem so perfect that remembering and reproducing them is almost impossible. They have a completely different philosophy and categories that seem to be understandable… But they are so unusually simple, concise and pure…
All Horoscopes claim that Aquarius is romantic.
This is true.
You are Aquarius!
You're also a romantic.
I've never met a bigger romantic. You always surprised me. And, as a rule, in moments when I was not ready to be surprised.
What does it mean: not ready?
It's just that the texture of those moments was too flat and not yet containing shoots for a future miracle…
How do you manage to mask something in this reality so that it doesn't give a sign of a holiday?
I cannot explain this parallel world where you, like a magician, take a magical object out of your sleeve, allowing the «northern lights of the holiday» to enter our house, filling it with a sense of happiness and magic… And at first this feeling makes you sit deeper or lean against the wall.
I am always unarmed.
How do you do it?
What I can still believe and trust in…
With all regards and skepticism,
Provided that you cannot check it
Or find a proper mechanism
For things called Miracles or Magic,
The one you touch… but do not ask…
And it is not about the public
It's something you're afraid to bust!
Miracles happen, you know
just when you don't expect it
right when you cross off the list
all the efforts the stars invested…
Miracles happen, you know
if you put soil to hearten
fertilize it with ashes and tears,
and not just believe it will happen…
The cynicism of nature is clear:
after all, it could connect
something that is immense
with something that remained intact…
I am a bad sister.
Another year has passed. And I'm still there!.. (((
Chapter 4
The Quintessence of Love…
March 23, 2017.
Thursday.
Yesterday, while I was lying in the bath full of sea salt and foam (though, alas, without rose petals or a foggy high glass of red dry wine), I thought:
«This activity is to my liking, as well as lying on a sunny Turkish or Thai beach…»
Well, I'm not a lazy one!
Although I can lie in the bath for 2 or 3 hours!
I'm going down into the water, very carefully: first one leg, then another. I try to sit down and then I go to bed slowly, because the water very hot, but not so as to leave burns…
You quickly get used to the hot bath, and after a couple of hours it only cools to body temperature. Igor scolds and spoils me at the same time:
«Eva, my fish, you know how harmful it is! Stop cooking yourself! Jump out, I've prepared something delicious here!»
«Darling, you know this is my office!» I answered once again.
Exactly, my office! During these two hours I manage to systematize my problems… Think about the things that concern me, and set up plans for the whole week!
Yesterday I thought about why I became a doctor…
Since I was a child my Mom inspired me that the doctor is the first man after God, while a priest or a pope is the second. Of course doctor sounds better, but physician is fine too…
The way people look at you walking in a whitish starched robe! As if you possess secret knowledge that is beyond the reach of mere mortals…
Indeed, it is!!!))
Some of them have awe and fear in their eyes, someone can barely cope with their excitement and constantly blush, others look at you with poorly disguised distrust.
I like to read these emotions in the eyes of my patients and find a key for each of them in order to let love into my heart…
At least to myself.
After all, all illnesses are caused by dislike, dislike of ourselves in particular… You can starve and be an absolute ascetic and at the same time have enviable health, or, conversely, suffer from chronic diseases with an abundance of funds and a set life, and think that this is okay…
But comprehensive love is also akin to disease…
Surpri singly.
What a paradox!
Taska has one interesting poem, a kind of test.
Few pass this test. The whole damn catch (!) is that 99.9 percent of those reading this poem take it literally!
But those who understand what kind of feelings the author is trying to tell find the quintessence of love…
Afraid to land when I take off…
Or feel no hands when I'm awake;
Afraid to ever be afraid
Thinking about you all the way…
Afraid to choose and to decide
And disagree against all odds
Afraid to lose the winter time
Afraid of river streams so broad…
Afraid to fear when I'm afraid
Afraid of friends that go back on…
Afraid to frighten, all in vain,
The brightest thoughts that rush upon…
Afraid of good luck to depend
To know the answer right away…
And that the cold gazpacho soup
Is not something you want today…
Afraid to go when looking back,
And see that you're not there even!
To say that everything's on track
But this is not what I believe in!
Afraid to trust to chance or passions
Or