13. I Crave

A bit behind with posting, but I was away on a family trip, without internet - almost life-changing ;) The prompt for today is 'I crave' and I immediately remembered these beauties from July last year, from the Greek island of Skiathos - the cherry season in Serbia was over and when we saw these on the market after a busy day swimming and doing beach side stuff, we couldn't get to them fast enough. And they were perfect, firm but juicy, and so sweeet!

09. Postcards

The art of postcard writing is slowly dying out... I was once a postcard maniac, nowadays - not so much. Writing instead of texting/mailing/facebooking/instagramming etc. has become so rare, a disappearing art if you will. I was once an avid letter/postcard writer, all throughout my elementary and high school, until I started university. I've written a few letters to my husband since and I take care to always hand write a card when giving someone a present, but that's it.
Today's postcards come from my photo archive of some of the parts/views of Belgrade I like the most. I hope you'll enjoy them!

08. My Eyes

07. Glass

I grew up with a mom and a grandma who placed a lot of weight on certain things. One of those was having pretty flowers in the house almost always and displaying the said pretty flowers in appropriately pretty containers. Cue vases! The two on the left you can see on the picture below were gifted to me - the tall one by my grandma, and the round one by my mom. The one on the right was also a present from mom - real Murano glass, from Venice. The tall one I grew up around, it was a stalwart on my grandma's coffee table and as kids, my brother and me were strictly forbidden from touching it lest it should topple and/or fall. The yellow one was the one my mom reached for most often whenever there were flowers to display. I love the colours on all three of them, being particularly fond of the blue/mustard combination.

06. Favourite Novel

For someone that is an avid reader and studied English Language and Literature, asking me to pinpoint a favourite novel is like asking to pick the favourite out of my two children. In other words - impossible. I read so voraciously that keeping a list of what I've read is a no mean feat, let alone choosing books I like more than others. Certainly, there are some that stand out, and these have changed in different stages of my life.
As a kid, an impressionable, nerdy, nose in a book at all times kind of girl, I reached literary heights by way of William Saroyan's 'Mommy, I Love You', or any book by Jules Verne for that matter. In teenage years, angst and existentialism struck, so it was to Hesse and Mann and Tolstoy that I turned to, engrossed in and impressed by both 'Demian' and 'Anna Karenina' in equal measure.
My university years saw tonnes of Shakespeare with sprinkles of all else that English-speaking authors produced of note in the XVII, XVIII, XIX and XX centuries. Reading was a serious task back then, all my literature exams were huge in terms of books to read and accompanying interpretations and critical reviews, so some of it is indeed a blur due to the sheer volume I was to conquer in order to pass an exam - the point of all high-level education, right?
After university, though, I was back to reading for pleasure. I fiddled with literary translation for a while and enjoyed it immensely, but that is no way to make a living in Serbia, so I've forgone the trade. That also meant forgoing reading any translated literature for quite a while because I would get so hung up on mistakes that the poor translator in question made that I could not continue with the book.
I most predominantly read authors writing in English. These include Ian McEwan, Julian Barnes, Paul Auster, Kazuo Ishiguro, Salman Rushdie, Arundhati Roy, Zadie Smith, Alan Hollinghurst, Hanif Kureishi. In addition, I enjoy Haruki Murakami greatly. I also have a soft spot for the Latin American writers such as the literary heavy-weights Marquez and Llosa, as well as the Portuguese Saramago.
There are a number of Serbian and regional writers that I love whose books have marked my childhood and youth mainly and who are so tightly woven into our identities here in the Balkans that there is no way you can skip them - Andric, Pekic, Selimovic, Copic, ...
Bottom line is - I'll read anything, any time, any where - just give me a book. I can plough through anything and I'll do it with dogged persistence and conviction. Books are to be felt, inhaled, chewed up, re-read, abandoned and then picked up again, savored, devoured, talked to, mad at, cried over, laughed about, shared with friends, kept selfishly for your eyes only - anything, as long as they are read and their spirit keeps going now having become integral part of their reader.
That is why I cannot pick out my favourite novel. No way!
I leave you with my current reading pile (on a stool by my bed posing as a nightstand, holding the inevitable moisturizers for assorted body parts - lips, feet, hands, you name it ;):
1. Quiet: The Power of Introverts In A World That Can't Stop Talking, Susan Cane
2. Men Without Women, Haruki Murakami
3. Lying on The Couch, Irvin Yalom
4. The Namesake, Jhumpa Lahiri

05. Bycicle

I want to ride my bicycle, I want to ride my bike! I never fail to think of this song by Queen whenever I think of bicycles ;) However, I'm not much of a biker myself. It's not that I don't enjoy it, it's more to do with the fact biking is not among the more popular means of transportation - or recreation, for that matter - in Belgrade. There are no designated bike lanes, it verges on suicidal trying to ride a bike on our busy streets, and after all - Belgrade is all up hill, down hill, so it requires some stamina to pull it off.
I remember my late dad teaching me to ride a bike. It was this big, scary thing to master, my dad hovering close so that I don't crash land, a few insecure laps around the playground and off I went. Once I figured it out, oh my, it was a blast! But I didn't have a lot of opportunities for doing it later in life. The last time I rode a bike was in fact 10 years ago, on the French island of Ile de Re - a very bike-friendly place, with bike lanes criss-crossing the island as no cars are allowed apart from one traffic route circling the island.
The bike on this picture, though, is not one to ride. A flower-pot of sorts, it decorates the pavement outside one of the best patisseries in Belgrade - Mandarina Cake Shop. The guy who owns it is a properly trained French pastry chef and the goods they're offering are just superb. The tastes are incredible, balanced and in harmony, yet unexpected and absolutely delightful. Being a cake person, I just LOVE what they do and how they maintain the level of superb artisan skill while at the same time making you feel as if you are eating cake at your super cool aunt's place. Worth a visit and a bite or three ;)

04. Where I Live

Where I live seems pretty straightforward at first. But then, it's also not. Where I live - as in a country, is straightforward enough, at least in geographical terms. Where I live - as in an apartment, a neighbourhood, a city, involves geography, but also emotions. I live in Belgrade, Serbia. The country's capital, Belgrade is a city of almost 2,5 million people, a throbbing, living, breathing organism offering endless fun (there's an abundance of articles in foreign press on Belgrade's night life) but also poor infrastructure, horrible public transport, streets full of tired people with vacant stares as life is relentless with the daily grind, poor, homeless, refugees from the Middle East and others in the permanent state of passing by, hoping for somewhere better than Belgrade.

Regardless of the bad economic situation, poor rule of law and rampant corruption, Belgrade is also sort of nice to live in. I love its rivers (Sava and Danube); I love its downtown; I love its narrow streets harking back to Turkish times, history literally around every corner, as far back as the Celtic and Roman rule; smell of linden trees in June, the south-east wind, kosava, in autumn, clearing the air of smog, taking cobwebs off long-forgotten nooks and crannies; smell of paprikas roasting from hidden communal yards behind urban buildings; the brutalist architecture of New Belgrade; the end of XIX/beginning of XX century houses - old family villas, some gloriously restored, that have miraculously survived multiple bombings Belgrade has been subject to in the past 100 years... 

But the real sens of  'I'm home' washes over me when I go to Kalemegdan. Belgrade's fortress from Celtic/Roman/Turkish times, it dominates the center of the town with its impressive ramparts and beautiful views. The statue of the Victor is the symbol of the city and the place I love the most in Kalemegdan. It overlooks the confluence of the two rivers, provides beautiful views of New Belgrade, Zemun, Ada, Avala, and the rest of my city's both beautiful and unsettling scenery and in a strange way makes me feel like I have arrived, I am home and this is where I live and love and hope to spend many more years savoring every day.

03. Roses

I am a sucker for roses! Some people find their smell too sweet, cloying, heavy and steer clear of it in all shapes - whether from actual flowers or rose-scented shower gels, bath foams, soaps, candles, perfumes... While I can't say that I have many rose-scented stuff in my bathroom, I adore the flowers. I love how the petals are so neatly, tightly packed into the bud before they open and how the whole process is just gradual and you witness them unfold and reveal the fragrant center and the beauty of the flower in full bloom. I don't mind the thorns either, to me they just make the whole thing even more special, adding an aura of mystery to the flower's attempt to preserve its fragrant secret from prying eyes and hands.
This particular pot of roses I spotted in front of an optician's shop just off Belgrade's downtown pedestrian zone. The actual header photo for my blog was also taken in front of that shop. The lady who owns and runs it uses all things seasonal to decorate her window display and entrance to the shop. Since roses are in season in her garden, she placed them in the beautiful vintage pot at the very entrance to the shop, while the window displaying frames and other eyewear was full of ripe, dark purple plums (also in season and I apologize for the lack of foresight in taking a photo of the window display as well).
The photo with the apples was taken in autumn and at the time she had a basket full of apples at the shop's door, offering a fruit or three to anyone coming into the shop or just stopping by to admire. I make it my business to walk down the street and past her shop often as her ingenuity and creativity, and just overall generosity always make me feel good about the world we live in (which is becoming more sordid by the minute, or so it seems some days). She has found a way to communicate with her customers and passers-by alike without pricey adverts or billboards. She presents herself in a way that would make you consider picking your glasses or buying new frames in her store just because of what she projects onto the world.
Sorry for the wordiness of this post, I'm coming to terms with not having engaged in (creative) writing for a long time...

02. Gold

Gold. Wealth. Richness. Abundance. Avarice. So many big words, notions, in such a small word. Even though I'm a Leo, gold was never one of my favorite colors. I steered clear from any gold colored jewelry for a long time. It always seemed so dowdy, matronly. I much preferred the silver, it's coolness, it's blue and grey undertones, the not so conspicuous sheen, or even better - its dark patina. But, as I changed, aged (look at me, touting old age and merely verging on the last few years of my forth decade ;), I discovered that the warmth of gold suited me. It plays nicely with the current auburn shade of my hair, softens my complexion and the first lines by casting a friendly shine onto my face. My mom and my older daughter gave me this wonderful gold-hued necklace as a token of appreciation for sending them away for a nice Greek holiday in June. And the other picture shows a sentimental peace of real gold jewelry: a bracelet my god father gave me on the day of my wedding. It's a combination of white and yellow gold and I treasure it. I used to wheel it out only on special occasions, but I've forgone that silly habit - life is for living, every day, so my best things often come out to play!

01. Morning

I was never a morning person. I do thrive in sunlight and my brain and my body function better when its light and bright outside, while correspondingly winding down with dusk and seeing me hit the pillow around 11 pm pretty much every night. But getting up in the morning - boy, that's always been a tough one. Apparently not when I was a kid - my mom says I was as much of an early bird as they come, calling out enthusiastically from my crib at the crack of dawn (that then came back to bite me with my first kid - karma is a you know what ;) All that changed very soon. I remember school holidays, the dog days of summer, and me sleeping in until 11 am or even noon - something my aging back would not allow me now, no way. That feeling when you wake up and it's daytime, hours of precious sunlight already gone, and you need to catch up. Only, it's summer, it's the holidays, and it doesn't matter!
Getting up for work- a nightmare in my book. Especially in winter. I'm quite the opposite there from my husband who just jumps out of bed when it's time and he's ready to face the music. Me, not so much. I just want to stay under the covers, and steal a few more winks of sleep. I just always feel I need a few more...
All that has changed, however, in the past six months. In addition to getting up to take my older daughter to school, I started going to the gym in the morning in March (the perks of being unemployed). I became a veritable gym bunny! I'm converted! I hit the thread mill for 20 minutes and then workout for an hour with a personal trainer. This happens three times a week, but getting up other days of the week has become much more manageable too. I don't now if it's the exercise or what, but it helped. I look forward to mornings. I look forward to working out. I want to get out of the house (although that's not always a straight forward operation given I have an almost nine and an almost three year old).
The photo below is of what I see when I get up - that chimney in the distance is a landmark, something that speaks to me in a way that conveys the 'everything is ok, you're home, everyone's safe' message. It's tall and sturdy and comforts me, odd as it sounds.
The next one is from my gym's locker room. I like going there, leaving my phone behind locked and just sinking my teeth in a good workout.
For the rest of the August Break participants, all the Insta action is happening under the #augustbreak2017 moniker, while you can also share the joy in the Facebook group here.

The August Break 2017

Oh well, since this space has been completely mistreated and neglected for a long while, let's jump start this blogging malarkey by participating in the August Break. You can see the details here and I'll be following prompts - makes it easier anyway. Some such as One Regret and Sour are already making me think and attempt more creativity... We'll see. Can't say that I'm really back, but who knows, maybe this will be just what I need to get the writing mojo back on track.

The August Break - Prompts

Florals and Other Matters

Just so I don't forget that this blog also used to be about personal style once upon a time, here are some of the latest additions to the ever growing wardrobe department:

ZARA print top and not just your plain white shirt

Two bracelets

And a nice scarf

They all say autumn and tie in with the rest of my wardrobe quite nicely. I also got a sparkly tunic top from ZARA, black and blue with an asymmetrical hem, as well as a red sweater from LEGEND with a necklace-like decoration around the collar, very nice, but for the life of me I cannot find decent pictures of them.

Rules and Routines

What's a woman without her 9 to 5? A question I ask myself often these days. Who am I without an office to go to? Without an immediate task at hand? Without a purpose? Without a routine, that soothing and comforting rhythm behind everything I do, that sets boundaries, clear and welcome, that tempers the existence, balances it?
Well, I've learned that I am not much without it. Or, rather, I can't seem to grasp what's beyond it. I feel anxious, lost, highly strung, and about to crack. My armor is pierced. I no longer define myself through what I do as I am currently unemployed. God, how awful! I hate the sound of it. I have not come to terms with it. I can't stop mulling it over and over, wondering if it's entirely my fault that I've found myself in this situation again after almost five years - five years of hard, honest work, and why me? Shaking off the victim mentality does not come easy for me. Also, always finding fault with myself, blaming myself, I excel at that. I'm thinking of adding the skill to my professional resume.
I can fully grasp how people lose it after, e.g. 40 years in the workforce, and then they retire and boom - lost, bobbing on the rough seas of life, left to your own devices to find meaning and purpose, again. To remember who you are/were, before - everything. To reclaim your own self. Whoever that stranger may be.
Why is it so hard to let go? Why are we programmed to cling tightly to the reins of control, however big an illusion it may be? Deep down, I know I could use this free time I am suddenly in possession of much better. I can use it to do all those things I like - walk, read, learn new things, be with myself, breathe, just think nothing, do nothing. But, and there is always a but, I cannot. Because the only thing I am acutely aware of is not how blessed I am to be living the life I do with a happy and healthy family, but how wretched I am to not have a job. I let that one thing that makes the equation of who I am ruin everything else and govern my perception of reality.
I wish I could undo it. I wish I can do better at not doing anything.
When I do give myself some breathing space, though, and let the real me through, this is what comes out - art, or as close to is as I'll ever be:

Stillness

A big claim, stillness is. I am rarely still. Even if I'm not moving, my mind is not still. It races, it jumps, it overdoes thinking, worrying, planning, work, life, everything. Achieving even a pretence of stillness is hard for me. I'm officially unemployed as of two days ago. Imagine what that does to my head. It does me in. It is not the first time I've been in this situation, in fact it happens in cycles every four-five years as projects end and new ones begin. In all previous instances, though, I was not able to take it easy during the hiathus. I would tie myself in a knot and shrink myself both physically and emotionally to a ticking bomb of anxiety. I have considered changing that this time around. I am thinking of not doing anything for a month and not worrying about it. For me, that's harder than giving birth. Making myself reconnect with the person underneath the worry and angst, listening to myself, feeling the feelings, making time for it, gosh, how am I ever going to do it? But, I'm willing to try. I took a walk yesterday around the empty Kalemegdan fortress and I was almost scared by stilness, peacefullness and quiet.

And another big one rolls around the corner

My birthday, that is ;) What's changed? Nothing, no big a-ha moments for me this year, just another birthday. I don't feel older, I don't feel that much wiser either. The past year was a lot in a way, and not that much in other ways. I've come back to work after baby number 2 and my older kid started school back in September 2015 - so these were the big things. Things that caused most anxiety and stress, so much so that when I've finally let up, overcome the first pangs of guilt and worry, it was like someone opened up the flodgates and my body responded by going haywire. It took three months to get me back on track. I strated exercising and kept at it for almost four months, doing pilates for four times a week for the ast two- I felt strong, toned, fit, satisfied with my self and the effort I was putting in. I didn't lose much weight, primarily because I gained muscle, but I just looked and felt better. Summer rolled around and I stopped exercising but I need to get back to it, pronto! Work-wise, uh, I don't know. I slided right back into the groove of things, as if I never left, no one took my place, no one competed for my job, I had no empty desk sindrome, I just continued. I even got my own office - I asked for it, and I got it. And than I felt as if somehow I stole something from someone, like an impostor. Which I'm not. I worked my ass off on this project and I deserve recognition. But, it seems I'm not over my self-effacing days. I want to grow, and be recognized by my superiors and my peers alike, and yet I want to remain invisible, hiding behind my work, happily toiling away, not asking for anything. And I need to find another job, soon. So what do I do? Do I want to continue with the same old same old, do I change sectors, do I start over, do I want a higher position, a better salary, or do I want stability and more time for myself and life in general? Do I pursue a further education degree? Or do I strive for simplicity and balance? I haven't got an answer on any of those questions.

There are few things that I can describe as certain about me, it seems that a lot is up in the air. I know that I love my kids and my husband; I know that their health and well-being is more important to me than anything else; I know that I thrive in stable conditions with clear boundaries; I also know that the only way I grow is if I take a challenge; I know that travelling is what makes life worth living (Vienna city break in May, hubby and me, all alone, away for five days, for the first time in eight years, bliss); and I know I need to move and exercise more to feel (not necessarily look) better. And that is about it. Other things - I still have to figure out.

36 - bring it on!

Summer TV

Just a short one today, with a few proposals for binge watching some of the finest entertainment to be found on line:

1. Happy Valley - oh how I love me some British crime dramas! This one - two seasons so far - features a brilliant lady detective with a troubled past and complicated family history (Sarah Lancashire) and an easy-on-the-eyes twisted villain (James Norton). The plot is riveting in both seasons, I gulped them in one big delicious slurp. Besides, James Norton is our new British boyfriend - see for yourselves:

He is the star of a much less sombre Grantchester - a priest with sleuth propensities, with a soft spot for women.








2. Billions - we've already established how much I love and adore Damian Lewis (our original British boyfriend). So imagine how giddy with excitement I got when I learnt of the Billions - Damian Lewis in the role of the wealthy, greedy hedge-fund manager, with a soft spot for Metallica gigs and putting his name on buildings around town, and Paul Giamatti, a public attorney on a crusade against the wealthy working around laws and rules, with a secret propensity for some S&M on the side. It's a roller coaster, exciting, epic at times. Season two is in the making. Can't wait!

3. The Good Wife - I know I'm late to this party, seven seasons already under the belt, but boy, goooood seven seasons. And Julianna Margulies is killing it.

Enjoy!

Routines

Routines are safe. They are life-savers most of the time. When you're stressed, when you're out of your mind with worry, when everything is going wrong, you can count on routines to pull you through. The job sucks, there's too much pressure, but the weekend is around the corner and it unfolds in a reliable, well known set of steps which bring order to chaos. Get up, have breakfast, go out, take the kids to the park, walk, come back home, get the younger one to bed, chill with the older one, make lunch, eat, do some chores, go out again, come home, bathing time, sleeping time, do some more chores, go to bed, wash, rinse, dry, repeat.
Yet sometimes it drives me nuts. It drives me so nuts that I feel I could go out of my skin just thinking about it. I don't want to go to another freaking park, I don't want to pound the same pavements day in day out, I'm so fed up with the same places, same store fronts, same faces... I don't want to clothe, feed, bathe, over and over and over in the same sequence of movements, same times, same way . . . What is so reassuring and welcome at times, becomes so infuriating, insufferable at others.
And I find myself being infuriated more and more so. If things don't go as planned, if any of the routines is harder to execute than usual, if there is an unexpected turn of events, I get so mad. I don't know where the anger comes from, but it surfaces so easily that it catches me off guard at most surprising times. And it is directed at my kids and at my husband most often - the people I love more than life itself. The people I could die for.
I'm lashing out and sometimes it's so bad. I hate myself for it. This creates another spiral, that's bound to produce more anger. I'm sure stress that I've been a lot under recently has something to do with that. But also I think years of not listening to myself, my body, my soul, my needs. Years of not letting go of some things, of not slowing down, of not changing the bad habits, the taking on too much, the having to have everything perfect and no other way, of being righteous, judgemental, wrong.
And, most importantly of not being able to forgive myself for all of it. It all boils down to that. The proverbial guilt and not letting go of it.
So that is what I need to do. Let go. Forgive myself for all the mistakes, the big ones and the small ones, and all in between. And writing it sounds so scary. Let alone doing it.
And I also need new routines. Of the self-loving, self-nurturing kind. Any suggestions?

A long and winding road to self acceptance

Retirement

Not for me, not yet, not ever maybe - who knows, the way things are going I may just drop dead behind the screen one day and that would be it. My mom retired. She was made to retire. Retire - retire your work, retire your position, retire the way of life, retire your colleagues, retire the rhythm and rituals of your day, retire the habits, retire the workplace presence and appearance... Sounds so harsh, so final, so defeating. My mom is anything but a defeatist, a loser, someone to quit, give up, let go and become invisible, cruising meekly towards old age and death. She will fight it, she will do anything to show everyone she is not affected by it, she's still larger than life, she can do and conquer all. And that's what worries me. I worry that something will be unleashed within, something related to this be all, do all presence that will push her into an overdrive and then into a melt-down of monolithical proportions. I don't want to witness that. I want my mom to be well. I want her to be healthy and content and live her life to the fullest but without hurting herself, burning out and ending before she gets to enjoy her retirement. My kids adore her, I wouldn't know what to do without her on a daily basis, so you could say that it's a completely selfish need. But it's more than that, I want her star to shine on, to continue making this world a greater place with her in it.

100 roses for my mom on the day she retired

An Exercise in Focus

This sad corner of cyberspace was languishing untended to for a very long time, a year almost... Although there will be a 'now I'm 36, jeeez, what do I do?' post coming later in the month, this one is just an exercise in focus and clarity. I've become so distracted and so out of focus in my daily activities, both job and home related, that I do not recognize myself anymore. My brain is scattered, my thoughts jump from subject to subject, even when I engage in simple home activities like clearing clutter from the living room. I get tangled in several other tasks simultaneously - and also completely unawaress - and it takes me sometimes as many as 30 minutes to get back to what I originally started doing. I seem unable to go about my business just finishing one task at a time and moving onto the next one. I need to constantly remind myself of this and it is so exhausting and makes completing anything a monumental pain in the butt.
Currently, I am at such a place in the job I do everyday that I need to be so focused and so intense and produce a ton of stuff and I'm just not capable of it. I am not. And it seems there is nothing I can do about it. So. That is why I'm trying to start posting here everyday, introducing some discipline into my daily doings, assigning a subject and writing for 15-20 minutes just to get my brain in a place of calm and logical, analythical thinking that flows freely into ordered words, sentences, thoughts, paragraphs. The plan is I get into work, write here for half an hour and then move onto my daily tasks. Writing other stuff, first and foremost.
We'll see how that goes. That's it for today.

The Festival of 35

Another year, another birthday. I must admit, the excitement was not the same as a few years ago - 35 sounds pretty middle-aged to me. Actually, I was pretty bummed about the prospect of edging closer to 40 and entering what I imagine is the second half of my life. Kiddies, a super-attentive husband and some cake baking sort of dispelled the whiff of desperation that was hovering around.
And then my family came, my mom, my brother and his brood and the house was full of laughter, singing and candle-blowing and I instantly felt better.
My mom brought me the best of gifts - a perfume and an orchid.

Prada's Infusion d'Iris has been a favorite for quite a while. I love its clean, uncomplicated smell, with some pretty powerful undertones.

The 100 ml bottle came with quite a few samples and I'm loving all of the Prada Candy varieties.

Just look at this beauty! It really made my day. I just hope we'll be friends for a long time and she'll bloom again and again - I'm determined to make this one a keeper, despite my previous disastrous record with orchids...















Having trouble staying away from the sales, I treated myself to another pair of  Clarks:

Source

These will be perfect for walking the cobblestones and broken sidewalks of Belgrade this fall while taking my daughter to school and trying to get to work on time. They can be worn in the rain, another bonus, not to mention how delightfully comfortable these are - for me, that's what I get from Clarks shoes. After I got my first pair last summer, I now own four and I have never looked back.














I have a few drinks with friends scheduled throughout the week, so the festivities continue, an my man has his birthday later in the week as well. Lots of Leo action going on in our family!

I have a 'books I've read so far in 2015' post lined up, however, I can't seem to get around to finishing it these days. Will have to have another crack at it soon.