The warm wind is coming from the sea. It is blue and mostly smooth, not so many waves I can see at the moment. Maybe we could go for a walk later today. It is sunny, a few small white clouds are dispersed in the sky.
Yann Tiersen is playing and my book is on the white table in front of me. I like to sit in our terrace of this old white Italian Villa. It is not luxurious any more, and that's why I insisted to bye this house. I like the coolness and the moist around this aged walls and white arches.
I love this Mediterranean suburb, its warmth, green gardens often of olives, smooth hills of vineyards and the peace. I love to hide among these walls and especially spend hours and hours in this terrace, watching the see and the sky, looking for Jonathan-the seagull, or reading and maybe writing while the music is filling my soul and the wind is touching my hair.
I am sure my feelings and my love for here all relate to some historical memory of mine or my tribes' of the home-land and what we miss about it.
Anyway, the only thing which may distract me ... yeah, he just arrived, calling me from the yard! I always tried to explain to him that it is like meditation for me when I am in the terrace only with myself. I told him that I would like to leave it as still as I enter it. But, yeah, as usual but! [Calling, "Schaetzcheeeeeen..." ] Then, he claims maybe something happened that he can not wait for me to leave my cage as calm as I wish. And of course, nothing happened except he arrived at home! I can not write any more, he is in the terrace, his next step would be to twist the shawl around me from the head to the toe because I ignored his arrival....
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I wanted to read some paper. Therefore, I listened to the soft music of Yann Tiersen and similar artists. You see the result up there. Of course at first only the view of the villa came in to my mind and I began to write. Then the happy end appeared when I was writing, in order not to be so boring. So, still the paper is with me! :-(
Yann Tiersen is playing and my book is on the white table in front of me. I like to sit in our terrace of this old white Italian Villa. It is not luxurious any more, and that's why I insisted to bye this house. I like the coolness and the moist around this aged walls and white arches.
I love this Mediterranean suburb, its warmth, green gardens often of olives, smooth hills of vineyards and the peace. I love to hide among these walls and especially spend hours and hours in this terrace, watching the see and the sky, looking for Jonathan-the seagull, or reading and maybe writing while the music is filling my soul and the wind is touching my hair.
I am sure my feelings and my love for here all relate to some historical memory of mine or my tribes' of the home-land and what we miss about it.
Anyway, the only thing which may distract me ... yeah, he just arrived, calling me from the yard! I always tried to explain to him that it is like meditation for me when I am in the terrace only with myself. I told him that I would like to leave it as still as I enter it. But, yeah, as usual but! [Calling, "Schaetzcheeeeeen..." ] Then, he claims maybe something happened that he can not wait for me to leave my cage as calm as I wish. And of course, nothing happened except he arrived at home! I can not write any more, he is in the terrace, his next step would be to twist the shawl around me from the head to the toe because I ignored his arrival....
********************************************************
I wanted to read some paper. Therefore, I listened to the soft music of Yann Tiersen and similar artists. You see the result up there. Of course at first only the view of the villa came in to my mind and I began to write. Then the happy end appeared when I was writing, in order not to be so boring. So, still the paper is with me! :-(
