lights off

And if you can, tonight, then please turn off your lights.
Get some candles.
Think some thoughts, or chat to your friends.
And turn off the lights.

http://www.earthhour.org/

Earth hour.
M.

homecomfort

Back to the post about the little moments a day, of just little comforts.

I'd like to go hiking. Well, maybe not necessarily hiking - rather for an adventurous mountain-air walk. Not such a "little comfort", plus I want the ground to come out from undernearth the snow, and then I shall look into this. Maybe find a cool place around London, and do it before The Move.

But cups of tea, and good baths, and favourite movies.
I found this list on this blog. The list was called "Feeling Sad?" and I quite liked it. Not that I was feeling sad, but I thought the list was good anyway. (I'll give you a selection)

Here’s all the things I do to help myself feel less sad:

(if you have any more suggestions, send them to me and I’ll put them up here!)

- Ride a bike.

- Pet my dogs.

- Color in coloring books.

- Do yoga.

- Light some candles and meditate.

- Take a bath with all the fancy works.

- Throw paint on canvas, literally just throw it.

- Walk outside.

- Go for a run.

- Watch Lord of the Rings.

- Smile, even though I never want to, it does make you feel a little better.

- Talk to friends.

- Get a bulletin board and fill it with pictures you like.

I really liked it. But I do think dancing should ABSOLUTELY be on the list as well!

I am also in love with the fact that she has Lord of the Rings on the list - I went through a period of just watching it every day, for kicks. I didn't even like it that much before, and then BOOM - daily occurrence. Why not.

So.
Small things that make a big difference.
M.

Also. Some of you might not like tea, and baths, and Lord of the Rings at all, or you might not enjoy dancing, and walking on mountain tops which is soooo unquestionably fine.
Just find the little things that do make you happy, that's all.

trblnt

okay.
So.
what is this, and what is that? (what a brilliant question to ask around 4am)

Here's to the turbulent nights.

E. gave me a plan though, and I greatly appreciate this, since this is not something that happens often, with me.
It goes something like this:

Bath
bubbles
wine
a pretty glass
yoga-mat
candles.

I think I might follow through, you know.
But a bit later on.
Today is a day for blogging.

If there is truth in anything, there is truth in this tiny velvet rhino.

Here's to rhinos.
M.

sunbed cheeks

The best compliment I've heard this summer is "you outrageous lady".
What made it the best compliment was the fact that this was from a mature person, an esteemed teacher, about my performance of a Mozart aria.
SO MANY THINGS that don't usually count as outrageous.

But there I was. Outrageous. And a lady.
Love. IT. ALL.

So today I went on a date, with myself.
I am making a bit of a hoo-haa about it, but really - it was just that lovely.

I spend a lot of time out of the house. For some reason I don't get cosy at home, or comfy. Sometimes I do want to spend an entire night in, but this is so so, SO rare.
So I spend a lot of time out. And hence tonigh was triple cool. Because it was one of the best alone nights I've had, in such a long time.
Maybe it was the view from the large windows of the 9th floor, maybe it was the rain outside that was trickling down these large windows in the most cinematic way, ever, maybe it was the city lights, maybe it was the time (around 8pm), maybe it was the coffee, maybe it was what I was wearing, maybe it was the fact that I was warm, maybe it was the cheese on my risotto, or the 2 candles, or what-e-ver.
It just was.
And it was great.

One of those when you sit, and go, okay, this is life, I am here, and this is all good.

This is all good.
M.

(And 1am sunbed-cheeks. Yes, yes, yes,)

SÜGIS

 
 I'd like to speak elvish. That would be cool. The Tolkien kind of Elvish.

I would like to spend my entire autumn in that room (the last photo) with the leather sofa and the big map. Just planning, planning, planning my next move. Planning the next spring and the next summer. Eating bread that A. has made, and smother it with the triple citrus marmalade that I've made. ("Maria's Marmalade", of course.) I'd sit there and I'd plan. And therefore every autumn I wouldn't think well, this is silly, why the hell must I wear clothing, but instead, I'd know that this was time to plan. Proper hibernation.
And I would always have candles on the windowsill, so I could say "lights will guide you home", or at least will guide you to me. I think that's why I like the Estonian day for spirits ("hingedepäev"). It's somewhere very beginning of November. And it's just to commemorate. And you know, in case there are any lost spirits or souls out there, lighting candles so they know how to find their way. It is just lovely. And I like it so very much. It just triggers some sort of sentimentality, in me. And I like candles anyway.
Tomorrow might be a day for a cracking cup of cappuccino.

The one benefit of autumn is that I want to cook more. And I don't mean make food, but seriously cook. Something like the lamb ravioli and broth below. And bake. Because, I mean, cake and autumn is just something else.

Really working at this autumn thing.
Love,
M.

a dying breed

Autumn in Tallinn. I haven't felt it in 6 years. And I have completely forgotten what it is like.
E. said the other day that it has been gradual. I literally woke up one morning and thought I had been smacked in the face with it.
It hits like a ton of bricks. But not solid bricks. But rather a ton of bricks that feel like a ton of clay mass, that you can't get rid of, or wash off, or anything. It's stuck to me, even when I sleep.
I wake up in the middle of the night, and think I'm cold.
And the worst part is, it makes me feel like I'm dying. Okay, not actually dying. Just the buzz or the excitement that I get during the summer, of just being and doing - I feel that dying.
The only, and I mean, THE ONLY thing I think I find appealing about autumn is the fact that Michael Bublé sounds divine. It just fits autumn. So it gets a point for that.

I like watching people. I was on the divine trolley-bus today, coming into town, and just watching people as the bus passed was so good. I was considering going round the town twice, just to see people.

A dying breed.
But maybe it's always been a dying breed.

These are strange times.
But then again, which times aren't?

I would like to love someone in Paris. In Paris, in an attic room, one autumn. Like in the operas, you know. Artists and attic rooms, and autumn, and leaves, and scarves, and markets, and candles.
I would like to love someone in Paris.
Now that would make an autumn.
M.

öös on asju

Envy and greed, honestly. Honestly. They like making a strong comeback.
But enough of that.

In other news, I have a massive urge to throw a dinnerparty. But it's more one of those fantasy ones, not with no-longer-alive people, but rather people who never spend time on the same continent.
Everyone would wear dresses (because why not) and no one would complain about not feeling pretty, because all of them are pretty. Emma Stone has said that it is far more important to be funny, or honest, than to look a certain way. I like her so much.
Back to the dinnerparty. So, everyone would feel beautiful, but in the serene sense of the word. The kind of beauty of contentment type of thing.
There would be a large wooden table, I'd serve some fresh salad, some great cheese, and grapes, and some cold and hot meat, soft-boiled eggs, good bread, and wine, and for dessert there would be a sorbet or an icecream and of course, I would bake something. Or make soufflés. And there would be lanterns, and candles, and maybe fairylights. And really quite conversation-enducing music, something from the jazz legends, Ella most probably. And there would be loads of chatting and laughing, the kind of laughing when people don't care what they look like, and at some point probably singing as well, cause no one really cares enough to mind, and why should anyone care anyway? Singing is great. Especially if the occasion, much like this dinnerparty, is suitable. And at some point someone would say that they want to read a poem, and they would. Again, cause no one cares about what you "should", what is "cool", or not, or edgy, or "in", or whatever the stupid terms. Just be. Just the joy of being, of being yourself, as an individual, but also of being in this fantabulous atmosphere, having some food and laughing with the people you sincerely like, in your head and heart, double combo.
And this would go on till the latenight/earlymorning hours. And then me and someone else would decide that right now was the time to go indoors, so we could play a song on the piano that's standing in the corner, and whoever's cold could get some duvets going.

(I just made some dinner. Some salad, cheese, ham. So I thought I needed 2 eggs, hardboiled. Accidentally I managed to make the most perfect little soft-boiled wonders. And it's a warm night outside, and we haven't had many of those lately. I mean, really, really. Simple pleasures.)

So that is the kind of night I would like to witness. No awkwardness, no inner troubles of being, I would like to see my friends enjoy being themselves as much as I adore and long for their company. Just sit there not comparing and stressing, or measuring, or weighing, or assessing. Such a night. One day maybe. But I really really really hope so. Because the truth is, life really is too short. At least too short for any of that.
Not to short for dinnerparties and good food.

There are things in the night,M.