Težak san

Nikada ranije nisam te sanjala. Ovaj san, pun očekivanja, ostavio mi je gorčinu u ustima i tjeskobu. Tražila sam te i htjela s tobom pričati. Tvoj muž mi je stalno objašnjavao zašto baš sada nisi tu. Negdje si drugdje, nema te, zauzeta si. San se stalno ponavljao u dijelu mojeg traženja da te vidim, nade da ću te vidjeti, i njegovog nezadovoljavajućeg odgovora. Cijelo vrijeme osjećala sam da si tu  negdje, blizu, samo još nisi došla, ne vidim te. Doći ćeš i pričati ćemo kao nekada ranije. Smijati ćemo se, gledati ću tvoje nježne i gipke prste kako lagano i brzo klize tipkama i gumbima harmonike. Probudila sam se s bljeskom ugode i zadovoljstva. A onda, na hladnom jutarnjem svjetlu sve je nestalo i opet postalo isto. Nikada više neću pričati i smijati se s tobom. Otišla si u nepovrat tako davno. Dani djetinjstva ostali su samo moji i nemam ih s kime dijeliti.


So long ago

Slowly, slowly the snow
White and wet 
Small hours of this memorable night
So long ago
So long ago


Zaboravljam/ I forget

Kako li je plaha moja mržnja.
Kako li zaboravljam svoj 
Samo na blijedo lice onoga
Prije kad pomislim.


Wind of change

There are nights that I spend worrying. I fret and turn and nothing helps. This is the period of my life that I rally do not like. Future is so uncertain and I am not young any more to embrace this uncertainty. When you are very young, you never think, actively think, that one day you are going to be old or older. There is no time for such thoughts, you are too busy with everyday life. Which is good. Now I do not wish to think about future because it is not going to be nice. And that is not good or rational, I know. When I do think about it, then I spend sleepless nights and hazy days follow. Which is not good either. What is the best way to look positively into the future? Real future that, somehow, I dread? Is there the best way or just the best way to avoid pain and unhappiness in advance? I do not want platitudes, but what is there to put me at ease? Maybe I am not able to see the obvious and maybe there is really nothing to be seen. In short: I am afraid, for the first time, of the future.


Nekako s proljeća



Julijana gave me this jasmine bush as a present some 20?? years ago. I think. Julijana was a work colleague, a WW2 orphan from Kozara, small, intense woman who befriended me from the first day I met her. We never talked about ordinary or everyday things. We talked philosophy, sociology, history. Grand themes and ideas. But she liked to laugh and little indents showed in her plump cheeks when she did so. She was a strange friend. In 1995 she died. She had cancer. I  called her from the seaside, where I had been spending my summer holidays, and her husband told me that she was really bad. A week later she was dead. I do not visit her grave because I do not know where it is. I tried to contact her husband so he could show it to me, but it was futile. And I decided that it really didn't matter. She lives, oh so vividly, in my yard, every spring, when the beautiful, fragrant jasmine blooms. I stand by it and talk to her: Juliška, Juliška moja!


Spring like before

Today, walking through the park near my former high school I suddenly realized that this is the April day like it used to be a long time ago. We had a very long and cold winter and everybody is fed up with cold, so we bitch about cold and rainy spring. But we are wrong about it being unusually cold, cloudy and rainy. With unbelievable clarity I remember the exact same weather many, many Aprils ago. Partly cloudy days, with sudden rain storms or sunshine bouts. Rather cold. Last few years we got used to really worm weather in early spring and said it was unusual, too warm, not good. Now, we are not happy with this perfectly normal spring weather. Because of that, until today, I have almost missed the beauty of the vividly green, tender, young tree leaves, of the modest spring flowers and merry bird cacophony . Around my house birds are singing like crazy from the sunrise to the sunset. And I love the fresh, earthy smell of the air. Spring, just like it used to be, is here!


An insult

Long time ago, in a hired limousine, on my way to the airport, a man insulted me. At the time, I did not understand it. I did not care. I was in love with him. Today I see him very clearly, but then I was on the verge of leaving everything behind  me to be with him. And I do mean everything. Today I loathe him  like I ought loathed him then. Today I see very clearly that he was not worthy. I still remember, oh so vividly, how I laid , naked, and fetus like, on the floor of my bedroom , crying like never before. Oh, how silly and stupid and over felt of me. And for that, I hold him responsible: for making me so silly and übersspant!


Proljeće koje blista/ Spring that sparkles

Moje želje, visoka su trava:
Dosegnuvši vrhunac, pokošene su.
Da bi ozelenjele s novog proljeća.

Painting by Blake Flynn


Six degrees of separation in practice

A long time ago I noticed that, very often, when I met someone for the first time, I found out that they knew someone I already knew. Usually, we said: such a small world. But lately, I know people who know some other people who know me and they all live in different parts of the world. Indeed, the world is small, but in a much bigger sense. Just yesterday a friend told me about somebody’s teenager that, apparently, committed suicide (jumped from the third floor). As we talked about it, she mentioned the family’s last name and I recognized it: I had met the unfortunate mother few years ago. I had had no idea that my friend knew her as well. This is only the newest example, and I could go on and on about many more. So, are we really only six people removed from somebody else? Is it possible? And how so?

Painting by Helen Davidson


For you, Renee


A bubble bath

When I think about what I like the most, few things come to my mind: reading a good book, drinking good coffee, listening to music and taking a long bubble bath. Yes, a bubble bath. In it, I only do not drink coffee, but I certainly read and listen to music. Triple pleasure. It started when children were young and exhausting and I hadn’t any time for myself at all. Well, taking a bath was a legitimate “alone” time and I used it asoften as possible and permissible. Nevertheless, when children grew older, they stopped caring for my bath retreat and just came barging in with their demands, problems, stories, complaints. Luckily, these times are gone as well and I can enjoy my bath again to my heart’s content. Also, when I feel down, I head straight for the bathroom, light all lights and open all the faucets. Light, sound of water, green of my bathroom plants – all that makes me infinitely better at once. And then, when I put Fenjal oil bath into the water, I feel whole again. I grant you, Fenjal does not bubble, but its smell is divine and reminds me of my youth and many other wonderful things. 

Painting by Vincent Fantauzzo


Crying in my dreams

I read somewhere that when you dream that you are crying, you actually are crying and not only dreaming about it. Well, last morning I dreamt that I cried. The occasion? I found myself at the entrance of the white building which turned out to be the National Gallery of Art in D.C. My favourite place which, long time ago, I used to visit almost every week. I know perfectly well why I was crying in my dream, and it certainly had nothing to do with the Gallery, but I still wonder how I managed to connect a picture with the feeling of sadness and loss. Workings of our mind are truly mysterious.


Zanosi/ Notions

Zanosi su lude ptice nepovjerenja. A kada umiru, gasnu kao ljetna kap u oku.

Painting by Trisha Lambi


My sister, myself

I have a younger sister, yet I am an only child. She is much younger and has never, ever behaved like a sister to me. Of, course, I had been very jealous of her for some 20 years.Then, I simply stopped because, finally and painfully, I realised that my parents are going to favour her no matter what. I was powerless and could do nothing about it. So I had decided that I should do with the love I have inmy family. Since then, I feel better , but there are still times and occasions which throw me back to feeling stupid, betrayed and angry. Angry at myself. Few years ago I realised that my sister thought that she was my parents’ pet because of her wonderful or exceptional personality. She expected the world to behave so : everybody should, if not love her, at least like her enough to do as she desires. I was stupefied. I was surprised and couldn’t believe that a mature person can entertain such ridiculous notions. Stupid me. When she got seriously sick, I was shocked; I even made some private wows of which I am not sure I can keep up. I cried for months. I didn’t want to lose her. I still don’t. She doesn’t like me, she is jealous of me (I cannot fathom why, but jealousy is not a rational feeling, they say), she is mean to me…………..We may not see each other or speak to each other, but I still love her. I am in a bind, in a place I do not like to be. Nothing is simple and love does not “overcome it all”.


Travelog, February '10

Once, a lifetime ago, you said about my weekly train journeys: "Oh, how romantic!". I had never, until you said it, considered them romantic. But, maybe they are, if someone is waiting for you at the other end. Usually, nobody is, not any more, not for a long time. Usually, I just sit in the train, drink my coffee, listen to my walkman and, maybe, read a book. More and more I just look out of the window at the well known landscape. This is the same rout I have been taking for more than 30 years. I should know every single house, tree or road by the tracks, but, surprisingly, I do not. Not really. Traveling has always, and still is, been an emotion, escape of sorts, being nowhere in particular. Very often, an anticipation. This rout witnessed many of my feelings (tears even): betrayal, love, happiness, sadness, hopelessness.

Painting by J.M.W. Turner


Moderato Cantabile

Rijeka donosi jesen
dugo umire grad
i u nama toliko ljeta
mi smo siročad svijeta

Reci dali ćeš noćas
moći ostavit sve
svoju kuću
navike ljude
i poći a neznati gdje

Neka svi mržnjom isprate nas
ali draga život čeka
sad je čas
čitav svijet
biće tvoj novi dom
neka kažu avantura je to

Nikad žaliti nećeš
svoje stvari ime i grad
i u hladnoj sobi hotela
bićes slobodna sad

Neka svi mržnjom isprate nas
ali draga život čeka
sad je čas
čitav svijet
biće tvoj novi dom
neka kažu avantura je to

Duga očajna kiša
magla zastire grad
nekim putem
tijesno kroz jesen
nas će odvesti vlak


Hôtel du Lac

Tišina. Osjećaj da si mi na dohvat ruke. A opet ...
Ista samoća već danima.
Čemu odlasci kada ipak ostajem s tobom?


Simple things that make me happy




Christina of Soul Aperture is hosting Simple things  She and her family offered to donate $1  to Doctors Without Borders in Haiti for every blogger who writes the Simple Things post today. This is a simple way to remember that it's the simple things in life that matter most and by posting about them help people in Haiti, which is simply great.


Aquarius The Water Bearer
January 20 to February 19
Aquarius is a Fixed sign and is ruled by


Positive Aspects:
Friendly and humanitarian
Honest and loyal
Original and inventive
Independent and intellectual

Negative Aspects:
Intractable and contrary
Perverse and unpredictable
Unemotional and detached


Lost birthdays

Today, my school friend would have a birthday. I always remember, although he died so long ago. Whenever I think of him, I think of one early morning before the school and how I ran through dewy grass to have breakfast with him and his sister (my parents were away). I think of him throwing chocolate bon-bons at my window in hope to see me and win me over with his offer. I was asleep and knew nothing. We remained friends. I was at his wedding. Our young families and children visited each other. He died and left a very small son and a wife who died few years later. A lifetime ago. Each birthday I feel his mother's pain. I feel sad and full of memories. My friend, I remember you. Zdravo, prijatelju.


Whiter shade of pale


Ni ovdje, ni tamo/ Not here, not there

Putovati vlakom, prvom klasom, kroz magloviti, jesenji, jutarnji pejzaž, dobar je i poznat mi ugođaj. To je vrijeme za koje znam da je samo moje, trenutak u kojem sam ništa: samo ja, bez etiketa majke, kćeri, supruge, sestre, prijateljice......Divan je to osjećaj nedostupnosti, samoće, vremena koje kao da je zastalo. Putovanja su uvijek za mene bila upravo to: vrijeme u kojem mogu biti tko želim, sama, sve mogućnosti otvorene. Ni ovdje, ni tamo. Iz istog razloga volim aerodrome: nikoga ne poznajem i nitko me ne poznaje. Susrećemo se samo sada, u malom djeliću neponovljivosti. Nikada, nikada neću ponovno vidjeti lica koja me okružuju. To je utješno. Volim se izgubiti u nepoznatoj masi, biti sasvim anonimna i imati slobodu biti ja kakva želim biti baš u tom trenutku.


Čekajući zeleno/ Waiting for green

Hodam Zrinjevcem prema Trgu, čekam zeleno. Iza mene šepajući hoda još jedna spodoba prošlosti s kojom odavno ne razgovaram. Možda me njegovo prisutnost ponukala da se sjetim tebe, iako si ti iz neke sasvim druge priče. Danas iz nikakve priče jer te više nema. Ne znam, teško mi je zamisliti da te nema i da nema nikakve vjerojatnosti da se više ikada vidimo. A jednom, pogled na tebe, susret s tobom, značio mi je sve. Kako je to bilo davno! Tako davno da mi se čini da to i nisam bila ja. Ona zaljubljena žena koja je čekala tvoje korake na zamračenom stepeništu, čije je srce udaralo kao da će izletjeti, u mračnom hodniku stana.
Više nikada, ni ti, ni on.


Susreti/ Encounters

Susreti. Pokreti ruku; treptaji očiju; micanje usana.
Susreti: dragi, topli, ružni.
Puni ljubavi, možda sjećanja, možda boli.
Dodiri prstiju, usana.
Igra riječi, zjenica.
Susreti naši svagdašnji.


Love is blue