Tuesday, 22 February 2011

Fragments of Inspiration: Home {decoration ideas 2}

Here are some more beautiful and creative ideas around decoration.
I love the colours, the patterns, the cosy atmosphere...


 *Images1, 2 and 3 from: Decor8
**Image 4 from: All Things Lovely

Fragments of Inspiration: Home {decoration ideas 1}

I always loved decoration - I used to re-arrange the furniture in my room every now and then, just to give a breath of freshness and creativity to my environment. I felt a little bit different, every time I re-decorated; I felt I was "renewing" myself; I felt I became a different version of me. Sometimes, even only re-arranging the things on my desk made me feel good about myself, and look at my room differently.

Today, I had a little look around the internet and found beautiful ideas for decorating a house (and making it a home). Looking at pictures like the ones below makes me dream about my own house.


Thursday, 17 February 2011

Fragments of Inspiration: Music {dance with my own shadow}

When I got home, I began to dance. The sound of a band carried me away. I tore the wall apart and found myself out on the streets garish with nightmarish colours. And the bands beat out the rhythms frantically, as I disappeared in Time alone, desolate, enigmatic - disappearing through the place I'd come from, leaving behind me an everlasting smile for human beings to remember. For no one will ever know if I really came, if I really went and if I ever really existed in their midst by chance.

-Manos Hadjidakis

Fragments of Inspiration: Words {lyrics*love}

Now that you are
in this land of dreams
sing a song of love
with the breeze

No words to say
what I feel today
sun is bright
and clouds went away

La la la - La la la
since I found my love in your eyes

Walking by your side
never comes a night
and no rain
will enter my heart

When you smile at me
anyone can see
that with you
a new life will start

Birds are flying in the sky
and my heart wants to fly
no more tears, no more sighs
since I found my love in your eyes

Cyprus, February 2011

My last hours in Cyprus – I am at Larnaca Airport, waiting for the airline check-in desk to open. I am sitting in the waiting area, looking outside the big windows. It is sunny – beautiful weather. I look up and face the sun – as I return to my screen, I cannot see clearly: small flashes of light make it difficult for me to distinguish the letters, to distinguish imagination from reality. I might well be the only person actually using a laptop in the whole airport floor. People here seem more interested in talking to each other, drinking coffee, or grabbing a bite. I guess what lies behind this is the Greek mentality of being (or at least seeming to be) always cool, not taking things seriously, and always preferring leisure and “doing nothing” to actually doing something or investing time and energy in something useful. Maybe I am a bit too harsh in my judgement of my fellow nationals. But then again, I do not feel bound to any particular nation.  I am Greek, I am proud of who I am, of my culture, of my heritage, of my temperament. But, I am not a slave to it. I am not imprisoned by my sentiments towards my own country. At least, that is what I think is going on inside me. I am a blend of many different identities, different levels, different colourings of personality.

If this were Gatwick or Heathrow Airport, things would have been much more lively. I am aware of making the wrong comparison here – Cyprus is no Britain. Different islands, different countries, different nations, different mentalities.

I chose to sit at this specific place – directly opposite the sun – so I can enjoy the blue sky, the white clouds, the golden sun. It is setting now… quickly disappearing from the Cypriot sky. I love watching the sunset. I adore the colours in the sky. I smile when I feel the uplifting breeze on my face – the sun is no longer there to warm us, and this sweet breeze is its way of saying good-bye.

I smile – I remember beautiful sunsets I have seen in England; some of them from the window in my room, some while walking towards the house after having a nice stroll in the park. I feel blessed, in so many different ways, and for so many different reasons. I feel blessed to have been born in Greece, to have been born by the wonderful people who were my parents, to have been raised in a specific way. I feel blessed to be able to enjoy moments of pure simplicity, to be able to smile when thinking about my life so far and dreaming about my life from this moment on. I feel blessed to be able to look at the sunset and feel my heart skipping a bit.

I have been on three trips abroad during the last few months – since May 2010, to be precise.  I have been to Spain, Belgium and Cyprus – Madrid, Brussels and Nicosia. Although I first came to Cyprus years ago on a school trip, this time it felt different. I was on my own, my trip had a specific purpose, and I arranged my time as I wished. I had a beautiful walk around the city, as I did in my two previous trips to the other two cities. This is my way of discovering a small part of the city, of making it my own, for a very brief period of time indeed, of creating a small piece of my identity that will remain in my heart and mind forever. I like discovering and creating things on my own.

Planes come and go… people come and go… from and to airports, countries, cities, places. People come and go, in and out of our lives - in and out of my life. I sometimes have the feeling that I cannot remember all the people that passed through my life – probably the ones that did not get to stay that long, but, all the more, I would like to be able to remember each and every one of them. I am sure I am missing some of them, and do not know if and when I will be able to remember them eventually. Well, maybe it does not matter after all…

I am looking forward to getting on the plane that will take me back to London. I am looking forward to running towards someone special, when the sliding doors open and the crowd that is waiting for loved ones to arrive is right there in front me… Searching for a face in the crowd, a face that shines, a face that makes me smile instinctively.

I am getting emotional now… I feel something inside me… I feel tears trying to find their way to my eyes, wanting to end up running on my cheeks, without me being able to do anything to stop them.  But no – I act on impulse, and “habit”, and smile.

Monday, 7 February 2011

Biutiful (2010)

On Saturday night, I watched Alejandro González Iñárritu's Biutiful. It was an impulsive film choise, which turned out to be an emotive experience.

The film was shot in Barcelona, Spain, and it portrayed the city in a grim way. Illegal immigrants who work for most of the day and sleep in horrible conditions; people who try to make their living in dark, small, dirty houses; two children who are growing up in an unsuitable environment; a woman who does not know how to be a "good" mother, nor a "good" wife, and cannot  get away from her personal demons; and, in the centre of this dark story, a man - a man who is trying... trying to raise his children, trying to get money, trying to find a piece of love to put in the puzzle of his life, no matter how small or brief that piece may be.

The film is beautifully made, despite its sad content. Whatever good happens in the story does not last for long. A sense of futility, hopelessness, prevails... The scenes of Barcelona are far from inviting - they are depressive. Tears come to your eyes, when you realise that there is not much left to hope for.

Javier Bardem is, once again, wonderful. He is a great actor - immediate, straightforward in this acting, and very emotive. The film would not be the same without him in it. He turns it into poetry - dark, depressing, but somehow biutiful...