So, after being away for 2 months now I came back to my country... and I still feel hard to go back to my normal sleeping hours.
My new family of raccoons seems to be quite happy in their new home
Also another new member of the doll community is Jacinto the cat. I got it at the "Queens" store in London, a funny place full of glitter, even the guy attending there was covered with, which seemed not to amuse him at all.
Finally but not last a set of different sizes of moleskine. Today I discovered the little one and couldn't resist to buy it.
Yesterday I bought a new camera. I decided to go to a pawn shop and have a look to see what I could find, and found this bargain. It was really cheap so I said "why not?".
The first photo I took was one of Marcel's face. He was sleeping there on my bed being most lazy and since he loves to be photograph and stay very still I gave a try.
Now I feel most happy with it and want to shot everything
Today was a really hot day and I found poor Marcel lying on the bathroom floor. Maybe he was pondering about jump into the bath tub, but who knows. I think I'll do it soon and with that I'll be inaugurating the thing, which I have never used in my whole life 'cause this is the first time I have one, yay !
Today I also made this little drawing. I wanted to draw the cat blue and I bought one blue ink but couldn't find it, I don't know where I puted it. I thought that while cleaning my room I'd find it but no. Now I don't know if I dreamed I bought it or I actually did, hmmmmm...
In the morning a ray of starshine came into my eyes. I'm still dazzled, still happy, still watching it over and over.
I also finished this for moly moly_x_46 . The exchange is about monsters. Again, my monsters aren't scary at all, but maybe they have some tricks I don't know about :)
And I found this photo of a little monster Yoda. Can you see my ferocious gaze ? grooooooaaaaaaarrrrrr :D
My grandmother said to me "oh, you were so cute ! what happened ? "
but things can't always start with such sentence. Though I'm getting older, or as I'm getting older, I'm starting to forget things. There are some events that are erased from my memory and somehow I know they are there, somewhere, hidden inside me. I don't know if I need them, or if they need me. Maybe not. If I get to be an old lady I'll remember them, for sure.
I been trying to remember how did I learn to tie my shoelaces and when I successfully did it. No matter how much I try to focus I can't recall it. On the other hand, there are thing I don't remember but my parents or family does, like when I was a baby, so they form part of my memory.
I do remember when I was making this drawing, a long time ago. If I consentrate enough I can even remember how I was feeling those days.
Is strange what we choose to remember and what not.
Everytime I have a nice cup of tea I transformer myself into a new character, quite old, actually. Is a part of me, my part of a sophisticated lady, like the ones that appears in victorian portraits, in old books.
That doestn't happens with any type of tea, just with some in which the flavours are rich and soft at the same time.
A friend once described me a tea she drinks like "a mountain". It took me a while to understand what that means, how a tea could be a mountain. Little by little I've been understanding that; still I don't have the whole idea but I'm getting close to it.
I've tried some good teas, some really great, some of them makes me feel like I'd never want to stop drinking them, though is always good there's no more and my cup is empty so I can try a new flavour or an old one.
Maybe one day I'll get to drink a tea in a nice place and me, wearing a nice vintage dress; only one day, that would be fantastic. And maybe that day I'll be in England and a nice english rain would be there, outside, but I'll have my nice cup of tea, with sugar and perhaps some cream, and I wouldn't mind about the rain because I'll ahve a wonderful red umbrella with me and a lovely monster-friend by my side.
Slowly I awake today. My eyes are tired so is my head, not to mention the rest of my too-young-to-be-old body. I try to listen some music, nothing seems to catch my attention. Finally I choose something, someone to sing what's on my head. Note by note, smooth as a cat comes my old friend Chet Baker telling me 'let's get lost, let's get lost' and I take his invitation as his trumpet flows around me, clear metallic sound filling every corner of my solitude. My solitude - with Billie Holliday's voice is the voice in my head.
Sometimes I don't understand english, I don't understand 'I like you' meaning - is so different if I try to translate it to my own languaje -. But I say it anyway.
I should stop listening the old tunes. They stick to me, get into my bones as I'm starting to feel how they fill me with sadness, melancholy of things I would never have, such feelings.
