Inspired by the covers of the study books for my German course, German Lesson is a journey: step with me from bubble to bubble, get hallucinated by the blue ones (look at the dark blue welsh sky) and dream of sweets, a warm café au lait (look at the red circles) and… keep dreaming.
Ups… And from time to time… you should take a look at the vocabulary section.
Leave the grammar for… later.
I love school 
Cristina lives in a corner of a busy city, close to a place of hopes, surrounded by friends and family.
Cristina,
life ends when you stop dreaming,
love ends when you stop caring,
hope ends when you stop believing,
friendship ends when you stop sharing.
Life, love, hope and friendship is the first bracelet I made.
… a broken English, a necklace born from Irina’s words and 18 beads to try to catch Betty’s world…
Betty is rational.
Betty likes Salvador Dali and Koen Demuynck.
Betty keeps in her heart the power to love a universe of people, sounds, colours, pictures, movies, words.
Weeks ago I entered in a room of flowers and memories.
I’ve let myself dragged by the colourful paper wall in the little room. I took the coup of tea Grace prepared and I jumped from flower to flower, thinking of all the days she spent there writing to him.
Grace lives in a small house in the middle of Wales. She loved “a Russian boy with eyes like ice and skin like snow”, “just like the song” she says. They loved each other, they loved Wales but the world didn’t love them. He left behind a different Grace. “Not a sad Grace” … No! She never cried! She always waited for him! She waited to receive a letter when she named their girl Natasha; she waited for an answer when Natasha married and for another one when Natasha died.
I didn’t want to ask if she still wants to know anything from him. I didn’t want to say I thought that room should be changed, painted… I took my coup of tea and I asked myself if I will ever feel this kind of love.
Still dreaming of the summer days..
… picking crispy orange flowers, feeling the grass, smelling the summer rain…
By the River Piedra I sat down and wept.
Con un poema y un trombone,
A develarte el amor.
Son los locos que inventaron el amor.
Seek to live. Remembrance is for the old.
I closed my eyes and I felt the love described by P. Coelho. I believed in the “four-hour trip from Zaragoza to Madrid” made by Pilar, I believed in love and their courage to give it one more chance.
Last week Kevin gave me a pack of lace. I have touched the white flowers and millions of sounds, the warm hand of my grandmother, the sound of her voice, the feeling of being home again, invaded me.
I have painted the Lace Flowers for all the memories I hold with me, for all the moments I will never forget, for a white childhood that smells like flowers and grass.
I believe in dreams, in love, in hopes, in a white tree that holds my whispered desires.
