The Sky

One day she noticed the sky was blue. It happened quite suddenly, she was pushing the wheel chair up a very steep street, she was sweating and panting. She heard the beat of her heart in her ears, bum, bum, bum the heart drummed in frenzy.

-Are you angry? You don’t say anything.

-No, I’m hot, she said. -It’s heavy to push uphill.

-It’s the sun. It makes you warm.

Finally they reached the top of the street, and she stopped to take a breath. She put the wheel chair’s brakes on, closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, se saw the blue sky. It was amazingly clear, almost like a blue shelter arching way up high. She felt dizzy, and she grasped the handles of the wheel chair.

-What is it? Are you all right?

-I’m fine, she answered. –I’m just so happy to see the blue sky. So, so happy.

The winter had been long.

 

Hunger

It happens every spring: I crave for colour. I need colour, I must create colour.

The days for the black and white are gone. For a while, because I know that period will come back, as surely as this colour inspiration overwhelms me every spring.

I’ve been a little lazy in taking photos. Instead I’ve wanted to make paintings, digital of course, because I have no patience for work that demands a long time. I have to be ready fast, I have no nerves to stay at one piece for a long time.

The urge, the hunger for colours, made me start the new blog. It’s my seventh…no, eighth, no, NINTH blog. Oh. Exaggerating? No. Every blog has it own function.

At least for me.

 

Welcome

to my newest

blog

Happy Easter!

Easier

Spring is easier.

Light wakes up in the morning. It may be grey light, but nevertheless, it’s light.

Rain washes the sandy pavements, floods rinse small stones into the gutters.

Pushing the wheelchair is almost like a dance when there’s no snow and ice.

Feet won’t slip and slide.

No weighty loads on the back, getting rid of the heavy winter coat. Balls and chains loosen.

Hands aren’t freezing, the grip is only cold.

Tears don’t compose an icy sonata of pearls on the cheek.

Spring is easier in many ways.

Easier. Not easy.

What Is This?

What

is this?

This awakening,

the warmth in my

limbs, the throbbing joy

in the branches of a tree

turning green. Winter sleep

is over, leaves are pushing

their way towards

the sun.

What

is

this?

Is

it

spring? Spring.