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Posts Tagged ‘poem’

ahoy there

lots of stuff is going on right now

not sure how to put it all in words. not sure if i should at all bother…

well lets start and then see how it goes

the war, people. the war is real.  the air raid sirens are real. the mortar rockets are real.

my ever strengthening faith is real too. the faith in evil.

the ninth month of my pregnancy is real.  the kicks and pushes to my insides are real.

isn’t that weird…

 

part of my man’s colleagues are recruited so he works double shifts now.  which is hard.

even though, we slowly prep and organise our flat, and do a ton of crafting, fixing, organising progects. which is awesome.

as for the couple-quality-time – it’s long gone.  that’s why i so smartly use the air-raid-sirens-hiding-in-the-bathroom-time as an extra hugging-time.

(officially we should be going to the staircase or a basement every time but we don’t)

 

other things i’m up to:

cooking efforts still going strong. kinda.

redoing and upcycling some of our furniture, all found on the streets or been given by friends and coworkers still going strong.

drawing…. going pretty weak…   🙂

here’s another sketch for my dad’s poem about an old sailor, where he tells picturesque stories about his adventures to kids

 

imgo (6)

 

 

 

p.s.   people had been really amasing and just won’t stop giving me all sorts of baby stuff. loads of it. i love it.  i love that it’s all second hand. love that it’s eco-friendly cause i don’t buy anything. love that it’s free. love that people i barely know care enough to do that. and i have so much of everything now i might start regretting i don’t have twins or something.  i was thinking when the time comes and i don’t need these things anymore i’d pass it to new emigrant single mothers or something.  russians are always so confused and smitten when someone is nice to them just because.  sad really.

p.p.s. latest film recommendation – ‘boyhood’.  haven’t seen it myself yet but looks like something extraordinary!

 

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IMG_5240

my dad’s poem about a sea dog (wolf)

 

so my dad’s a poet. a children’s poet. writing in russian and living there.
he asked me to try to illustrate a couple of his older poems, both sea themed.

although my drawing skills r a bit rusty by now i started straight away. well, not straight away cause i did this before.

note: in russian a sea dog (an old experienced sailor) is called a sea wolf, so this whole poem is based on a play between the words wolf (animal) vs. a sea wolf (person)

and the poem goes like this:

i’ve heard lots of stories

but this one is weirder than most

a peculiar wolf lives in a seacoast village

never saw a rabbit

but often times whales and sharks

he swims crawl and breaststroke

otherwise he’d drown

and it’s not spooky to meet him on the street at night

since its known

that the wolf is completely tamed

he hangs out with a couple of monkeys

and his cap is askew

a bunch of boys running after him all day

is his tail

(be warned: translation mine, rough, lousy and not precise, but the main metaphors are all there)

that’s the half of the poem that u see on the sketches and there’s another half i don’t have sketches for yet

the cookies are my take on nigel slater‘s  festive chocolate flapjacks

i think i like the guy and his easy recipies being a girl who grew up in a family where the mother didn’t cook (AT ALL) and the father cooked just really basic stuff (since he had to). i like how he talks about cooking as an expression of sympathy and appreciation. of love really. i think it puts me in a right mindset and keeps me motivated. most of the time.

and this is what i baked last weekend, a beer bread: bottle of beer flour salt some sugar, that’s it. so easy to make i almost didn’t believe the outcome would be good. but it was.

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beer bread. if i can do it and it’s edible – anyone can!

 

 

and lastly a photo of me at work for your viewing pleasure.

love location photos. or should i call it environment or setting photos, i don’t know.

imgo

yours truly backstage

 

i work in props and costumes department of a local national theatre, remember?

 

until next time,

be well and exercise,

me

 

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so my father makes a living writing children poems most of his life (true story 🙂 )   and this is one of them that i tried to illustrate here, i’m not capable to translate it properly so

i google translated the beginning and the ending of it

(the main part was too tricky for google transtation)

In a field, on the lawn,

I lay in silence.
On the lawn, in the blue shirt,
And I’m only twelve.
………………

………………

……………..

Smile on my lips,
On my heart – sadness.

in the main part of the poem the kid stares at the clouds above him and thinks

how it’s sad that he can only live one life and can’t live many different interesting lives, in many different times and places

to me this poem is also a little bit about death or rather – life seeping through fingers like a cloud….

but i think in the painting i didn’t quite grasped the sadness part….

but, you know, whatever…., i did the best i could

besides my dad seems to really like it and that’s what matters, right? 🙂

na polyanke-small

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