Monday, May 23, 2016

The gypsies

I woke up flat on my back in the middle of a clearing. I rubbed my eyes and sat up. It looked like the forests we had back home, so I immediately called out, "honey where are you?"  Nobody answered.  ¿Where was I?  Should I be worried, or feel concerned?  Why, it was such a beautiful place, trees in the woods were swaying gently under a warm breeze, whispering secrets to my ears and magical words...  I stopped by a bush overflowing with little red berries, sat down by it, and decided to collect some of its fruits....


Then, I heard voices.  Children playing somewhere down below, people's voices becoming whispers in the distance, a song being played on a radio, the smell of food being cooked atop a slow fire, so I started walking down towards where the voices and the smell of food guided me....


The enchanting and exotic songs of unusual birds filled the air, and down below my part of the forest, trees opened up, and I saw the most amazing view right from where I was standing... the sinuous river, like a lady-snake, green and peaceful, running gently throughout the land all the way to where the horizon swallowed it up in a big, dear embrace and I could see it no more. 


Everything was so green and lush and gloriously peaceful and beautiful... but where was I? The minute I saw our "Gypsy Caravan" all memories came rushing back to my mind.  Of course, we were at the Gypsy Camp!  We had been camping, and I just had fallen asleep! 


I run to our 'home away from home'... our "Gypsy Caravan"!  And immediately felt safe, and happy, cocooned in lushness of lavish textures, and rich colors....






The Gypsy Caravan is divided into 4 different sections. The first section is our cooking spot, simply a small fire and some metal baskets to hold all of our food and cooking supplies. 


Most usually, we'd cook outside, but when it is cold, or we just want to heat up water for our late night hot cocoas or teas, or sometimes lattes during our cold movie nights, we use the stove...


The second section is where our table and sitting area is, it is where we read and write and watch movies at night under small lights, all huddled up in our comfy PJs.  It is also where we enjoy our early breakfasts and always, always the best of coffees...


I love how the sun shines through the windows on early mornings...


The third section I've already shown you... it is my 'personal' compartment, where I play and read and sometimes sleep, but only during a short nap during daytime.    


For I always always sleep on the other bed at the other side of the trailer at night... huddled up in the warmth and love of my 'Fisherman'.


He won't sleep on 'frilly beds that's what he says... so I try very hard to keep things pretty simple there... 


But the views there.... ohhh, they're always the best...


The Fisherman engaged in doing what he likes best...


...but didn't catch a thing... hehe!  Don't tell him I told you, though... 
We ate dinner outside...


And slept under the pretties of round moon and the enchanting sounds of an identified creature whose two-toned song sounded to me as if it was saying "went to the river" "went to the river".   



The Fortune Teller came by to visit late that night...


A crystal ball, river stones, magical cards, a bowl of bones, holy water, rosary beads, an owl, a cat, a bag of seeds, diamond earrings, string of pearls, gold and silver, skirt that swirls, rings of onyx, ruby, sapphire, lithely dance, around the fire, eyes that see beyond this world, a woman, a hag, a crone, a girl, trust, believe, give me something to keep, and I will tell you of what you seek ;)








Sunday, May 15, 2016

To Tessa... and our time together

So I'm back to the Velvet Underground
Back to the floor that I love
To a room with some lace and paper flowers
Back to the gypsy that I was to the gypsy that I was...




  


Back to the solitude of my home after our first campout of the year.  Back from long gypsy journeys, forest winds, mossy stones, gypsies names, old legends, great joys and small sorrows too. My heart aches for things I cannot understand or define.  My womb yearns for the fruits it nourished and the bones of my bones, a spirited little gypsy girl named Ariadna and the beautiful, ancient soul secreted in the ageing body of a certain Tallulah.  Stories.

If it was up to me, we'd only ever have dreams and gypsy voyages.  We'd have always the cobalt-dust heart of summer skies, blush-pink roses, tender breezes, birds for friends, wings for arms, the opening hour of gentle, glorious light before the start of day clambering up on us, the silence of the mid-morning garden, the taste of mint in the tip of my tongue, French lilac scent, sourdough bread with cream cheese and apricot jam, the quality of sunlight pressing on the edge of another horizon, ancient stories told by the old ones atop hayrides and wind-blown hair on a cool May afternoon. The Moon-eyed people and pre-Columbian ruins to accompany you.  Heartbeat pressed against heartbeat for encouragement and aid on cold, windy starlight nights while keeping stories afresh under the wing of my heart. 

So I'm back to the Velvet Underground
Back to the floor that I love
To a room with some lace and paper flowers
Back to the gypsy that I was to the gypsy that I was...