Things of Life

         C hiar daca aici este vorba de o toamna sudica tarzie, tot o simt. Aerul e altfel, putina racoare, și lumina leneșă ca mierea se prelinge printre frunze inca verzi. Dar ma asez undeva si nu pot sa nu imi amintesc,  ca toamna mă napadesc amintirile…                                                                       *  *  *           Bunicul meu era un om foarte gospodar. O stiau toti. La un moment dat a gândit el ca avea nevoie de o magazie buna pentru lemne. Si l-a chemat pe nea Niculae (parca) sa o facă. Imi amintesc ca am vazut niste sfori, stinghii, stalpi din lemn prelucrati rudimentar, și magazia s-a facut. Dar bunicul nu a putut sa o umple imediat, si mi-a spus ca pot sa ma joc acolo, in spatiul ce ramasese dupa ce cate un rând ...

`           I recall it was the late fall of 2018…I had gotten to a point in life where the journey seemed rather stagnant as if my life’s boat arrived in a place with no particular waves or winds, and was apparently not moving at all. Just floating. Up to that moment life had gone on a fast pace, with main events that one can experience in a lifetime right one after the other;  all of a sudden life became too quiet and predictable, and the question that lingered was “what’s next?” I remember expressing my feelings to a couple of people: “You know, I feel that a change will come…”            I am not a historian, or some type of analyst, or a psychic, I am just an inquisitive person, thinking most of the time that reality is beyond what I immediately perceive, and I kind of always want to know what is behind there…And for this reason I made a habit of exercising regularly that sixth sense called intuition. If there is...

                    Mie imi place patul. E o platforma moale pe care o inconjor de cateva ori pe zi, probabil, dar cand lumina de afara se duce si vine noaptea cu misterul ei, ma apropii de ea si ma bucur sa ma cufund acolo pentru cateva ore bune. Si nu in primul rand pentru ca as trai bucuria aceea primara a odihnei, cand trupul obosit cade—asta e fara doar si poate—ci pentru ca vad patul ca un spatiu intre pamant si cer. La un moment dat mi-am dat seama ca nu imi plac paturile la perete. Am crescut in ele si cand ma retrageam la perete imi infundam nasul in niste panouri tapitate. Intr-un loc aveam o biblioteca deasupra sub care patul intra partial. Ce claustrofobic mi se pare acum asa ceva! Am realizat ca imi plac paturile cat mai catre mijlocul camerei, doar o saltea mare potrivit de elevata. Ca o perna mare inconjurata de spatiu liber. Fara stalpi, grilaje, lemnarii, or perdele  in jur care mi-ar ingreuna o posibila...

                    The sky was so bright and starry that when you looked at it the first question that came into your mind was whether it was really possible that all sorts of bad-tempered and unstable people could live under such a glorious sky. Fyodor Dostoevsky I could extrapolate a bit here— how come one that beholds such sky could not truly love? Because there is something in a starry night that may compel one to reach it, and how one can reach such sky other than truly loving…? Dostoevsky’s “gentle creature” reminds me of my mother. My mother was a gentle creature . Somehow it was harder for her to deal with the vicissitudes of life, and perhaps that’s why she had to leave earlier from here, from under the stars. But she had her strengths; she had the strength of ideas. For example she gave me the idea of a true relationship, what it means to have, or live within one. As I was growing up, turned three or something,...

I like to wake up with you every new day, And have a glimpse of you through bed sheets,                                                       Well worn. I like to stretch my hand through linens and touch a part of you, Somehow I still have an awareness of you                                                         Even when I sleep. I like to feel your presence even when you are away; In fact I like being with you even when I am not.                                                         Sure of you this way.               ...

                                                               She went to the water to fill up her vessels,                                                               Her veils fell on the ground near,                                                               Soon, the emptiness was far…                                                                  ...

                       I am at a remote lodging in the North West. Here, deer come near my room and meander around; they tend to linger at the compost hole to eat. As I am walking near by, they are not scared because they seem to be accustomed with humans; and I am not one to bother them. Later, as I retreat, the fog, the drizzle, and the cold, encircle my small room. Through the evening fog I see some distant lights, and hear, perhaps, the howl of a lonely coyote. I fall asleep. It’s just dreams and memories…