Through the day

Včasih že ko se zjutraj zbudiš začutiš, da ni tvoj dan. Običajno se ne menim za to, ampak neka tesnoba je vseeno naseljena v meni. Moje telo je kot bi ga ugrabili nezemljani in počutim se tuja v njem. Poln otopelosti bi se najraje zavlekel nazaj v posteljo in počakal, da mine. Najbolje prespal. Ob takih trenutkih se privlečem za računalnik in odprem Pinterest, kjer pričnem brskati po svojih mapah. Fotografije me posrkajo in že se znajdem v vrtincu pustolovščine. Pri meni je domišljija vedno tista dobra prijateljica z velikim srcem in toplim objemom. 

Kako si pa vi pomagate?

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Sometimes when I wake up in the morning I feel that it is not my day. Normally, I do not wnat to believe in it, but I still feel it. My body is like abducted by aliens and I feel foreign to him. Full of apathy I prefer to be dragged back into a bed and wait for it to pass. Best to slept all. At such moments I drag myself up to my computer and I open Pinterest, where I start browsing my folders. Photos just  suck me into and I get caught in the whirlwind of adventures. My imagination is always a good friend with a big heart and a warm hug.

What about you?

Journal 16. November

I hear the bell at the door. I open. In front of me is an unknown man. He ask me if I have the master at home. O please?! I don't  know what to think...

Journal 14. November

Disease got me in a horizontal position today. I rested all day. For something else I have not been able to.

Amazing Colours of Autumn

broška ptica ~ bird brooch

Journal 9. November

All week I had obligations in the center of town, so I take the bus. You will not believe what all has been changed since the last time I used public transport. A good thing I managed to find right bus and learn how to pay a ride.

Journal 7. November

This week I am on a workshop for a set design for theater performance, which is in theater MGL.

I'm waiting for others to come and in this time I'm trying to look very busy.

Journal 6. November

I prefer to be dragged into a bed and slept. I'm still not healthy. But so much work remains to be done..

Bird on the flower pot in colour

Journal 1. August

I need someone to clean my mess.

Dnevnik

Pisala sem ga vsak dan. V osnovni šoli. V srednji šoli. Osebni dnevnik namreč. Tam nekje pri 20tih letih me je popadla grozna misel. Kaj če umrem in potem za mano najdejo vse te dnevnike, blodnje vsake najstnice.. me ima rad.. sigurno me ima, saj me je pogledal, sicer le za sekundo, ampak to le nekaj pomeni.. ali pa.. komaj čakam, da se odselim, doma me silijo pospravljati svojo sobo.. ali pa.. nihče me ne razume.. Priznam, nisem bila nobena Ana Frank. Zato sem začutila potrebo, da uničim vse svoje zapise. Sploh pa preteklost je preteklost in tam naj tudi ostane. Kar niti ni bilo tako enostavno, ker ko sem začela kuriti ogenj (zažgati je najbolj varno, da izbrišeš sled), sem imela veliko dela s sosedo, ko sem jo prepričevala, da je njena hiša varna in da sem še vedno prisebna.

Letos pa sem se odločila, da začnem ponovno beležiti dnevne trenutke, na svoj način, slikovni seveda. Če želiš me lahko spremljaš na strani Dnevnik. Moje leto se sicer ni začelo z januarjem (zakaj pa bi imeli vsi enako.. ok priznam, nisem uspela), ampak s februarjem.