I’ve recently been thinking a lot about a blue piano. For some reason unknown to me, I really would like an old fashioned blue piano with a lock and an old key. I want to paint it myself and give new life to an old piano.
I want herbs to grow in the windowsill and hang them upside down in the kitchen to dry. Or maybe they have to be on a wire rack somewhere dry? I don’t know how to do these things, but I want to try.
The past infinity months have given me a taste for life, I once had but somehow forgot about. Now I want. Not in a greedy way, but eagerly. I want to stack rocks, dance and walk in the forest with my king and queen attached to each hip. I want openness and connection. I want to be wild and soft.
I want a blue piano…
Related Blogposts
– every morning is a ritual. every moment is a ritual. we get lost in the “moment” but then we lose our moments. they vanish into old memories of myself. my memories, memoirs. i write my moments down, i write myself down. i turn myself into words on paper. i am…
The workshop is developing. (…) Today, two tables were placed staggered in the centre of the room. Writing stations on either side with blotter pads, paper, pen and different colour ink. On two other tables remaining along the wall, books and texts were laid out. Print out pages were omitted…