Breathing Earth

I was profoundly touched by a documentary my husband and me watched this week at the Belgrade's Summer Festival (BELEF). Directed by Thomas Riedelsheimer, it portrays the genius of Susumu Shingu, a Japanese artist creating magnificent sculptures replicating the movement in nature, primarily that of wind and water. His philosophy of life is so simple yet so hard to achieve for the mere mortals living off a paycheck and worrying about mundane occurrences such as bank loans and bills. What struck me the most about this remarkable man is the youthfulness of his spirit - he is 75 and yet his eyes and his smile are that of a young boy, exploring the world with the same curiosity of spirit and freedom of thought and dreams found mainly in children. The documentary is full of poignant, breath-taking photography and Mr. Shingu's unique wisdom, well worth investing 92 minutes!

Susumu Shuingu's sculpture at Hermes, Tokyio

Cancer

Today marks the beginning of another chapter of my family's ongoing battle with cancer. After my aunt died of liver failure caused by cancer metastases in 2001, aged 50, and after my father died of same causes in 2010, aged 56, their sole remaining sibling, my other aunt, is starting chemo today because of breast cancer. She is 61.
Should I feel better because the age at which this silent killer attacks is extended in each case? I hoped it would skip her and we, the second generation, could find a grain of consolation in that and not think of ourselves as destined for doom once we hit 50. What does this say of our genetic make up? Statistics are ruthless. We are all in great risk by sheer virtue of being our parents' offspring. One 'faulty' parent is all it takes.
I am aware a lot of this has to do with lifestyle and habits, environment and circumstances. But among the three of them, my father was the one who most contributed to his own demise and one would think ok, fair enough, he had it coming. For my eldest aunt who died first - no such explanation/excuse. She led a healthy life, ate well, exercised, and went for regular check ups. And yet when she was diagnosed they gave her 2-3 months before the bitter end. She beat all the odds and survived that prognosis by two years. But she never lived to see her daughter get married and give birth to two beautiful granddaughters.
My other aunt is overweight, granted, and a chain smoker, so I guess it's no surprise as well. But in her case the monster didn't raise its ugly head until she ventured into her 60s. And breast cancer has by far a more optimistic survival rate than liver/colon cancer. Yet, I'm not consoled. I'm worried and sad. I am trying to stay positive and send positive thoughts her way and I really, really want her to fight a good fight and come out victorious at the other end.
Another thing I'm noticing - dealing with this, the disease, the diagnostics, the surgeries, the chemo and prognosis - it's somehow easier each time. You know the drill, you know how it goes and what lies at each turn. And the fact that I have a doctor husband does not actually help - I am faced with the ugly, medical home truths about it all, no sparing my feelings and no beating about the bush. Blood, sweat, vomit and tears. The lot.
I wish I had more positive feelings on this. I wish I had a better attitude towards the disease and doing something about it. I'm still at the stage where I'm mostly paralyzed by prospects and fear for my own life. But I have a child and I have a responsibility to her - to stay sane foremost, and to stay healthy.

Dragonfly - the perfect example of the fleetingness of life

Friday Five

Five things on a glorious Friday like today that tickle my fancy:

1. Fantastick wall stickers and this fabulous heart tree that I got for my daughter's new room:

She loves it, it takes a bit of time to get it up properly and stick it to the wall without any small bubbles of air or creases but it's well worth the effort!














2. Ben Howard, 'The Fear':

Magnificent voice, great poetry, have been listening on repeat since yesterday . . .

3. Vedrana Rudan, 'U zemlji krvi i idiota' (In the land of Blood and Idiots):

Source

This Croatian author, blogger, thought-provoker, woman, wife, lover, mother, granny can be summed up in one word - genius! Her writing is so sharp, funny, so to the point it leaves me short of breath by the pure virtue of the truths of life she conveys through her texts. I'm savoring this collection of her best blog entries one at a time as overdosing on her brilliant mind can be dangerous ;-)













4. Blooms in unexpected places, or spring incarcerated:

5. decor8 - the best interior decor blog on the web in my humble opinion. The esthetic of places shown, images conveyed, DIY ideas and colors is amazing as you can see below:

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A word of caution: once you start browsing through this blog you cannot stop that easily so make sure you have plenty of time ahead of you and dive in ;-)

Random Acts of Kindness

When walking to work every morning I have to pass through a rather narrow street the actual width of which does not prevent drivers from speeding by as if on the Monaco rally. The curb is also a narrow strip of security not wide enough for two people to pass each other by without one of them stepping onto the street. It's been a few mornings now that several different people, men I have to say, have made a conscious effort to step onto the street and let me pass by safely. These gestures were made swiftly but deliberately enough to make me realize in a few seconds that I was passing by that those were acts of kindness and paying attention to the person coming your way. I feel good about this as it says people are not as insensitive, callous, mindless and rude as we are led to believe these days. No, there are enough regular people around, we just have to notice.

In other, less serious observations, look what caught my fancy these days:

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As well as these:

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Be still my beating heart! I kinda need both, but given my 30-year marriage to the bank I'll wait for the sales. There's no harm in looking, though, right?

Watching reruns of Homeland and the first season of The Americans - I'm a sucker for a good spy story. 

And spring is finally here!!!

By Popular Request

What better reason to break off this almost two-months long silence than to cater to a request from my best friend.

Her brother's wedding is coming up, there is a skin-tight LBD secured, what is left is the shoes.

They have to be killer shoes and they have to be manufactured by the local shoe company/brand LILU. Not an easy task as the winter collection is still in stores and spring is nowhere to be seen - it's been snowing in Belgrade for the past few days.

I thought of suggesting a red pair along the lines of these below:

A beautiful warm red, would break the black beautifully, but . . . The heel is not high enough!












Then I spied with my little eye a pair of animal print ones, a slightly higher heel, round toe, see below:

Not bad but still something missing, the wow factor is just not there.














And then this morning, the mother of all killer shoes shows up on LILU's facebook page:

It's black, I know, it does not break the LBD with a splash of color, but I suggest, my dear, you use other accessories for that. This is a perfect sexy shoe for a perfect sexy lady you are! The heel, the pattern, the pointy toe, I can see you in them and I can see how putting them on and walking tall with those long slim legs of yours could be so empowering! You're one hot lady, embrace it, own it and show it to the world!



Case closed, the jury is out - I'll let you know about the verdict ;-)

Oh Ye, of Little Faith

That is me, actually, in the past two weeks. Completely desperate and lost, without faith or confidence that everything will work out in the end, and you know what? It did, it really did.

A woman like me, for example

Not enough sanity or patience for a proper blog post these days. But I found this to be oh so true . . .

Fernanda Laguna, Argentina 

A woman like me, for example
(translation by Stuart Krimko)

A woman
doesn't deserve
the time
to dedicate herself
to things that interest her.
Because...

Is it because the things that interest a woman
aren't interesting?
Or is it because....
A woman doesn't show enough interest
in the things that interest her for others
to think they're interesting and give her the time?
Or is it because...
The interesting things she does are things that are interesting to someone else
precisely because they're things that someone else doesn't find interesting?

A woman asks herself
so many questions...
A woman like me, for example
who has a few brief moments
to do something that interests her.

And while these moments pass her by
she asks herself
Was this what I wanted to do?
Ask myself questions like these?
Waste this precious hour they have granted me
thinking about things I'm not even sure I want to think about?
Does a woman really deserve
the time to do the things she wants to do
if she doesn't know what she wants to do, really?
Does she deserve the time it takes
to believe that she wants to do something?
Does it even make sense to keep thinking about it?
It doesn't matter,
the lost time is what it is to be a woman.
A woman like me,
for example.

So it is and so it must be and so it must not be

When a female human being thinks of herself
she thinks
about whether she is a human being or not.
A woman believes she has to be so smart
that the rest of the world has to convince itself that in fact she's quite stupid
because deep down she believes that the more she's cast aside
the freer and happier she'll be,
cast aside to the place in life cast aside by the means of production.
That wondrous place where ungovernable things thrive,
ungraspable things,
things like life and death,
and time and love and secrets,
and beauty and intuition,
and the universe and everything inside it,
simple and meaningless things,
among other "things."

Or something like that... I think.
Anyway.... it's very difficult to finish a poem
and give it a fixed meaning.
But I did pretty good, right?
A woman is someone like me, for example.