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Sunday, March 30, 2014

Part 4: After Leonie left (from the series My Lovely Ghosts)

After Leonie left, none of them was truly happy. Not in the way they used to be. When their heart beats stopped almost every minute because they were so exhilarated that it felt impossible to breathe. When the fairies tickled their noses and sprinkled splashes of milk on their naked bodies. There wasn’t that kind of happiness when they were apart.
Leonie went to Paris. She spent days fascinated by every single crack hole she had found and by the metro passengers. She loved the feeling to be able to stare at people and carefully examine their features, creased clothes, dirt on their shoes and the secrets behind or above their eyes. Metro was probably the only place where people could be strangers and anonymous together.
Leonie was daunted by the idea of holding other peoples’ hands. To her holding hands was something precious almost sacred. Leonie could recognize Georgie’s hands with her eyes closed. The way his fingers moved, the gentle almost unnoticeable caress of his thumb. His hands led her through frozen mountains covered in silk and the skies with dancing books and forgotten music. She missed him awfully yet she wasn’t ready to come back to him.
Leonie met Ferdinand during the cold lonely night when she was looking at Seine searching for diamonds. They say that you can find diamonds during the night when the moon shines and the diamonds glitter underneath. She had found Ferdinand instead of diamonds. He was lying on the cold ground staring at the sky thinking about his last performance. He blamed himself for not being good enough, for not being able to become the character, to stop being Ferdinand. Leonie asked him if he was looking for diamonds too but he said he didn’t want any diamonds. He was scared to death by possessing anything. Every night before he went to sleep he threw away his clothes, never kept them longer than a day. His flat was entirely empty, there was a big mattress on the floor with a pillow and blanket and Ferdinand kept it only because it wasn’t his. It was there before. He didn’t want to posses anything though he wanted to occupy the entire space. Normally he introduced himself by entering the room. Ferdinand was filling up the spaces with something extraordinary yet exasperating. People looked and listen to him; they craved for his company because of the stupidest desires. Ferdinand was very persuasive and genuinely believed he could control the wind. Leonie was fascinated and amused by him having everything and nothing in the most unbalanced way. Every time she woke up he was lying on her, covering her dreaming and wandering body, holding her tight so she wouldn’t leave. She founded it almost adorable. She liked when he was undressing her with his eyes, she could sense his desire on every place of her body. Ferdinand loved and talked with his body. Leonie talked through her eyes that reflected the thoughts and feelings of us, lonely travellers.  
One day Leonie woke up and felt different, the coffee suddenly tasted like melted poppies and the porridge made her fly. She was supposed to go to the circus with Ferdinand but instead she just walked and walked until she got to a coffee bar. The smell of an old furniture and ginger led her to the cafe. Sometimes you just have to walk and walk in order to live, Georgie used to say. The cafe was crowded; people were standing around the table where a man sat holding the tarot cards. His hair was grey but his eyes were filled with a new born cry. He smelled like eaten oranges and untold secrets. People were writing their names on pieces of paper so the reader would pick the lucky one to read the cards. Leonie didn’t write her name down, she just wanted to watch and listen to his voice. The reader picked a paper open it and looked at Leonie. The whole cafe let her pass and get to the table. She sat down confused and somehow happy. When her cards were on the table, the reader talked to her in silence. He said her heart was incomplete, beating like a broken melody of an old violinist. He also said that it was all fine. That the sky knew when to cry and that the clouds looked the same when you knew where to look. After all the heart is vast canvas with everlasting blossom.










Sunday, March 16, 2014

Part 3: How Georgie and Leonie met (from the series My Lovely Ghosts)

Georgie first met Leonie in a car park few days after her babushka died. Leonie’d been crying.Georgie looked at her and said.
‘Hello. My name is George.’
She wiped her tears away and stared at him for a long time. It was a very profound and important stare, the one that tries to breathe on your soul. Georgie stared back thinking he could give her the whole time in the world to say something if she asked for it. After a long time which felt like nothing Leonie spoke. ‘Can I call you Georgie? I like it better.’ 
‘I guess it’s alright. What’s your name?’
‘Leonie.’
‘Why are you sad Leonie?’
‘I don’t know. Why are people sad anyways?’
‘Because they hurt, I believe. Do you hurt?’
Leonie nodded.
‘It’s ok I hurt too. Hold my hand.’
Leonie took his hand and smiled widely. It was the first time she smiled without being self- conscious about her braces. Leonie told Georgie everything about her babushka and how lonely she felt after she passed away. Georgie felt at ease with her, she would never judge him and mostly she was amused and in awe by everything he said. The whole world was  like a never ending surprise for Leonie. She could lie on the floor for hours staring at the sky, fascinated by clouds, seeing something else lying behind them. It felt like the whole universe was telling her that nothing makes sense that accidents happen and people keep making mistakes and the snowflakes fall down when no one is looking. Leonie knew Georgie could see it too and that made them close. They felt like they were incomplete and insignificant without each other. Georgie loved the idea of being inseparable that one person can’t exist without the other. He wrote thousands of poems about their love and how finding each other turned the world upside down. Leonie, on the other hand was terrified by the idea of not being able to be happy with anyone else. She wanted to see more, to meet new people, fall in love with complete strangers all over again and make all mistakes of the world. So she did. Leonie had moved out to the big city and started to live a big life. But before that she gave Georgie The Worry Dolls. The only thing she had left from her babushka. Babushka got them from one of her endless lovers. Leonie told Georgie that he can tell his worries to one of the dolls and place it under his pillow before he goes to sleep. The doll will worry instead of him and let him sleep peacefully.
After Leonie left, she understood what her babushka meant by saying that people usually don’t end up with love of their life.






Saturday, March 15, 2014

Part 2: Leonie’s fireflies (from the series My Lovely Ghosts)

When Leonie was a little girl, the only person she truly loved was her babushka. Both of her parents were working abroad seeing her twice a month. As a child she always felt like she had lost her parents already but she didn’t care that much because she had her Russian babushka.
Babushka came to her life straight out of nothing, like a gentle breeze into an empty room. Before her arrival, Leonie was only surrounded by fairies and little grumpy goblins in her big lonely house. Her babushka brought all sorts of unimaginable and magical things into Leonie’s life. She couldn’t speak any language but Russian, she was scared to death of washing machines and she only hand washed the clothes. Leonie loved the smell of their bathroom when babushka did the laundry in the bath tub stepping on the clothes. Every night before babushka went to sleep she was writing a long love letters to her dead lover. When Leonie asked her, why she wasn’t writing anything to her grandfather, babushka replied that people are usually not married to their true loves. Leonie used to wonder why in the hell would you rather marry someone else but your true love. Leonie’s conclusion was that grown-ups were silly.  
Babushka put the love letters underneath her pillow so the ghost of her dead lover could collect them and had something to read and dream about. Leonie saw her lover’s ghost once, when he woke her up, begging her to explain her babushka that he had never loved her and if she could please stop writing him letters because they disturbed his peace. Leonie didn’t have the heart to tell her such a thing, so she always sneaked into babushka’s room when she was asleep and took the love letters away. Babushka always got drunk on vodka in order to sleep well and wake up happier so her sleep was very heavy and she had never noticed what was Leonie doing with the letters.  When babushka woke up and found out that the letter was gone, her life made so much more sense than before.
When babushka died, Leonie’s heart cracked. It was almost Christmas. Leonie climbed on the roof of her house with thousands of babushka’s love letters. It was quiet night covered in gold when Leonie was throwing the letters out of the roof. They flew a little then burst into innumerable fireflies and the night became a day.


Part 1: Georgie’s never ending autumn (from the series My Lovely Ghosts)

I met Georgie the Ghost when I was on my year abroad in Valencia. He would just come into my room in the middle of the night as if not knowing that the night was when most of the humans were asleep. Georgie didn’t seem to care.  At that time I considered him the most annoying ghost I’d met until I got to know Margaret but well that’s another story.
First time I met him, I had noticed an unmistakeable sadness in his eyes or more precisely in his entire expression. I’d always felt like it must have been there before, that maybe he was born with this sadness, deeply engraved in his hazel eyes. His eyes were very familiar to me, like I could see them everywhere, in the trees, autumn leaves, during those long London’s rainy days.
Georgie was a romanticist. As a baby he would only open his eyes when someone was reading him Anderson’s fairy tales and playing Mozart. First time his mother felt him moving inside her tummy was when she watched Café Mϋller by Pina Bausch. The mother felt like Georgie was dancing inside her. When he was born the moon turned upside down and disappeared for a few seconds, when an old man refused to watch the sunset and when the blueberries turned pale. Now how could he possibly lead a normal life born during these bizarre circumstances? Ne never seemed to fit in. Some people looked at him like he was a villain or a tragedy of some kind maybe even a disappointment. The others thought differently. They thought he was strange and odd in the most beautiful and peculiar way. Like Madame Bombon did for instance. These people shared similar destiny. They saw purple when it was black, they saw a weeping moon crying out of solitude and they saw dancing frogs collapsing in the rain. They were so blind that they saw what was truly there and the others followed the picture. Big and sad picture.
Georgie didn’t tell me so much about his childhood. He loved sitting on the tree, secretly looking at the people underneath. That’s how he first met Madame Bombon. He used to think that people looked way more interesting and fascinating from above. They were unreachable and invincible from that precious distance and that made Georgie crave for them. Moreover they didn’t scare him as much. Normally he tried to avoid any contact with people. Georgie was terrified of humanity. He just didn’t understand people... buying too much ice cream, smiling when they felt like crying and always wanting to have the wrong things. At his beloved tree he felt safe. Mainly he was daydreaming there, creating his lovely world that was so tiny that only he could fit there.
The one thing he particularly loved doing was building the origami swans. He was always stunned by idea of swans swimming through the innumerable amount of leaves. Every night, from his window he could see his swans shining in the dark. They caressed his soul and provided him certain happiness and sullen dreams.  Unfortunately during an autumn rainy day, Georgie’s father cut off his beloved tree. After this unfortunate and tragic event, nothing else in Georgie’s life made him as happy as when he was sitting in his adored tree. Well only until he met Leonie..........


Sunday, March 2, 2014

Spring adventures

The spring is here. I’m so happy, the weather is getting warmer and sun is shining like crazy. Lately I’ve been going to the beach very often. There is a beautiful place in Puerto Sherry with many cliffs and big rocks. I went there the other day with Kate and Alonso, literally climbing on the rocks. I almost fell but the idea of getting my lovely trench coat wet made me fight against my clumsiness and I won. Alonso is a friend of Kate. I think I mentioned him before when I was describing his unbelievable slowness even for a Spanish person he’s so slow. The other unfortunate thing about him is that he talks and talks. You know when some people talk a lot and they don’t really care if you listen to them or not, well that’s not Alonso’s case. He always asks questions to make sure you understood him and heard him properly. We were having some drinks in a bar and the only thing I wanted was to enjoy the beautiful beach view however Alonso was talking again. I almost threw a glass of wine on his face but then I thought it would be a waste. He’s actually a nice person sometimes.






Lucy, the teacher of three year olds in our school is a hilarious and interesting lady. I love working with her especially in the mornings when I feel like dying and she says something like: look at him, he’s so gay or she’ll become a thief, I’m telling you Tami. I can see it coming. I love people like her because they always make you laugh and somehow make life bearable. The other great thing about her is that she’s very outgoing and friendly. Lucy loves meeting people and exploring new places. The other weekend she took us to an old monastery which used to be a prison and now it’s a very posh restaurant, coffee and event place. I’ve had the most amazing dark forest cake and the great view on very handsome eligible bachelors and three drag queens. We also went to see a flamenco performance in a very crowded and popular bar. The food was amazing, very traditional and delicious. I was so impressed. I can’t even describe how moved by the flamenco performance I was. The singer, guitarist and two dancers in one night, in an hour, in a tiny magic place showed me how essential the music and dance is and that people can create so much beauty! After that we went to listen to a piano concert with lovely Spanish people. One of them was Jose Luis, and old gentleman with inexhaustible passion for theatre. He promised to take me to the puppet theatre soon.

Last week we celebrated Andalucía Day in the school, which meant the kids’ grandparents paid us a precious visitation. We had andalucian breakfast, little flamenco performance and concert with traditional music. I really enjoyed it, to see my kids with their grandparents who were absolutely adorable, very charming and somehow happy. They were laughing all the time, utterly content seeing their lineage speaking English and actually doing something else than crying, seeking attention and playing with a dirt. The traditional Andalucian breakfast is toast with olive oil and sugar. The first time I’ve heard it I felt very sceptical about it but surprisingly it tastes like butter. Of course we also had churros (it tastes like a donut) with cola cao. I was stuffing myself like crazy. Four of my students danced flamenco, they were so cute in the dresses and kitten heels and that big flower in their hair. However my joy ended when I had to change them into their uniforms. I mean as beautiful the flamenco dresses are they are so not practical.

This weekend the Carnival in Cadiz started. It is supposed to be a Spanish version of Brazilian festival. We went there last night with lots of face paint and some of us had a tail and a mask of an old man who looked like a creep or a paedophile. I tried to dress up as a geisha but eventually I looked like a sad Pierrot with an eye infection. There are so many possible places where someone can put eye drops in your eyes. He streets were crowded, the noise of broken glass everywhere, people were drinking and dancing. It was pretty wild and I bet I step into urine multiple times but it was certainly an unforgettable experience.


The news about my allergy is that I’m actually allergic to certain type of dust mites that is very common here. Honestly this place is fucking never ending and unfortunate disease. I’m just waiting to get Chlamydia or some STD soon. I miss London! I’ve been applying for summer and September jobs already and the only responses were NO. It feels like it was only yesterday when I worried about my future, where to go next and here we go again. Well I shall see.