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the blues and the reds

the blues and the reds

THE POPPY FIELD

April 21, 2023

I was dead, but nobody mourned me. Beethoven’s last symphony woke me up. I was lying in a poppy field with a copy of The Egyptian Book of the Dead on my belly. It was bound in velvet, bold gold letters on the front. I tried to think for how long I was dead, but the clear sky reminded me that the clouds were in my head and I would never have an answer.

It took someone immortal to bring me back from the dead. Beethoven’s hair was messy, like always. He frowned, his arms raised, directing an invisible orchestra. E.T.A. Hoffmann stood close to Beethoven, smiling at the people I could not see. I could hear them, though. They played the symphony that always brings me back to life, no matter in which corner of hell I am. 

Jan Swafford wrote that Beethoven’s music is a gift to humanity across time. Coming back to life amid the lolling poppies, I knew he was right and that this immortal man will keep bringing us to life if we have the patience to listen. There was a woman in the field too. A cat purred around her ankles while she held a pile of notebooks. She came nearer and told me to “listen to Scarlatti and Stravinsky” and write daily. I told her I could not get over Deep Water. She smiled and told me to go and meet a stranger on a train. 

Borges was there too. He has never stopped being my favorite librarian. He stood next to a tree, resting on his cane, blinded eyes to the sky, seeing things that most of us fail to see. Laurie Colwin came close and gave me a hand. She told me, “If we did things at a child’s true pace, the world would move with incredible slowness,” while Emily Dickinson handed me a lantern and told me to look for myself.

I sighed then because how many more times would I have to remember to find myself? I walked away, Beethoven’s symphony lacing my every step, and stopped when Borges’ fingers skimmed my elbow. He whispered to me then. “I am not sure that I exist, actually. I am all the writers that I have read, all the people that I have met, all the women that I have loved; all the cities I have visited.” I forgot the last time someone made me smile. I thought about how I did not need to look for myself. I was here already. I needed to peel away the unnecessary layers and be a blank canvas, or maybe a house sounded better. A home for all the books I have read and all the writers and artists that keep bringing me back from the dead. People may see sentences and melodies on my face instead of wrinkles—those who want to see them anyway because we can only see what we can handle. 

the blues and the reds

I FELL IN LOVE

March 14, 2018

 I fell in love

I fell in love darling — I know, it’s terrible. I don’t know how it happened. Needless to say, I had to let him and his protruding ears go.

He never did anything I asked but he did turn the mundane into the extraordinary. Everything he did, all that he touched with his tattooed hands, I wanted to do it, to love it. He made the world pleasant — nothing was weary and grey anymore. Continue Reading

the blues and the reds

THE DAYDREAMERS

March 14, 2018

daydreamers-fashion-literature

The Swans’ way

Let’s sit here on the riverbank while we watch life pass us by. Let’s sit and watch beauty moving ahead in hordes of swans, in all their glory and sorrow. Let’s live in a black and white world, sitting here doing nothing except longing for furtive glances with the ones we have fallen in love with, whom we have never spoken to, our hair draped over our bony shoulders while the river sways for us. Continue Reading

the blues and the reds

5 THINGS TO PACK FOR A DREAMY HOLIDAY IN PARIS

November 3, 2016

5 things to pack for a dreamy holiday in Paris

Somehow, I always find myself going to Paris in September. Maybe because it falls at the start of Autumn, which can be seen in the vein of the leaves falling off Parisian trees and in the continual give and take between the sun and the rain.

I am not sure of the reason, but I am sure of what to pack for a dreamy holiday in Paris. From what’s comfortable to my essentials, the following are five things I always pack when I am heading to this city. Continue Reading

the blues and the reds

A SHORT STORY ABOUT LOVE

July 20, 2016

stunning red velvet cake with books

They got married in the last month of winter, when it looked like the rain had no plans to go away and the clouds tinged the sky grey. There was no one in the cathedral except the two of them and the figures in the frescoes. They said their vows through furtive glances, promising each other a life of instances measured not by the time on the clock but by the gaze in their eyes. They both thought the kiss felt like a goodbye kiss before they ran, holding hands, to eat red velvet cake under the pale moonlight, while watching life pass by.

Follow the dream on Instagram or Twitter.

the blues and the reds

THE BLUES AND THE REDS

June 14, 2016

blues reds Audrey hepburn moon river“Blues reds, the mean reds, the blues or whatever you want to call them…”

You know when you get the blues or the mean reds? The blues and the reds — whatever you want to call them — well, there isn’t much you can do with yourself but to linger somewhere that makes you feel better.

Some people go have breakfast at Tiffany’s; I go sit on the fire escape of this small apartment building in New York to listen to the woman, who says ‘darling’ more times than I ever could, sing. Continue Reading

the blues and the reds

COUNTING

June 7, 2016

counting daydreaming vogue

“What are you doing Madeliene Rose?”

“I am trying to get up from this armchair Eduardo — I am exhausted.”

“What have you been up to? I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I have been away from the village; I went back home for the holidays and now I need a 100 year siesta. You see darling, I have counted every time my mother’s large earrings hit her cheeks and I have counted every furtive glance on the face of the one I fell in love with.” Continue Reading

the blues and the reds

DO YOU KNOW WHAT I MISS DARLING?

May 11, 2016

anemone flower

Do you know what I miss darling?

I miss lying on a beach and falling asleep with the warmth of the sun on my face. I miss afternoons spent talking about everything and nothing.

I want you to know that no matter, you must never stop dreaming.

You can live in a mess and have your head be as clear and happy as a sunny day.

I have dreamt about you, you know.

I saw you running barefoot in a field of Anemones, fading amid all of the dirty white petals – your skin pale, your body hollow, but free, you looked free.

Story credit: Image via Pinterest.

the blues and the reds

COME AWAY WITH ME

May 3, 2016

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You know what we are darling? We are the masters of our fate. You and I, we can choose to stay here, seeing what we have always seen and being what we have always been or we can settle in the unsettling for the rest of our days.

Pack your books and clothes, bring your valise and let’s go.

the blues and the reds

THE IMPERIAL MARCH

April 1, 2016

imperial march vogue nippon cathedral veil blackLately darling, I have been spending my mornings with the skeletal maestro at the Cathedral, listening to him play the organ and my favourite tune, Elgar’s Imperial March.

Taking off my shoes before I go inside the Cathedral, to feel the cold of the tombs lying under the marble floor, I pass the wooden benches and the gold-encrusted altar; I pass under chandeliers and climb the stairs to arrive at the small door of the organ room. Continue Reading

Hi there. You have stumbled upon the place where I house my daydreams. Currently, I am taking a literary journey through the Western Canon to navigate through uncertainty. If you want, you can join me by subscribing to my newsletter.