Monthly Archives: March 2010

Swans

I am so glad I had my camera with me today…

So glad.

Ghost Hunt

Does it happen to you as well these days?

Do you feel those immense amounts of energy being poured upon you from who knows where?

Me, being the child of spring, go through this high-energy phase every year – I just can’t wait until it arrives.

Spring is my legal drug (not that there are any illegal in my life… that I know of).

Now you might be asking what spring has in common with the picture of a castle placed above.

Well… in my case – quite much.

Because right now I am in the state which makes me feel like taking a picture of every single interesting thing on the face of the earth.

So why not start with history?

History is so interesting and here where I live (which is at the very heart of Europe) it lies around every corner… literally.

For example – the castle that we visited last weekend (and that I am going to give you a sneak peek of) is about one thousand years old…

One thousand years old!

That’s something, ha?

It is called Bzovik and I consider it a great place for vampires to reside in.

I can perfectly imagine their coffins placed in the basement.

Spooky…

What I really, really loved about that place was that there was no guard or keeper or whatever the name of the person should be.

You can freely come in, go anywhere you like, look into any hole you find, visit any chamber you come across inside.

Basically, what you can do is to unleash your imagination entirely and, without even noticing it yourself, start to speak to your imaginary servants, husband, lovers, children… and then your boyfriend finds you and asks whether you are foggy in your brain of what…

Anyway, this is the building which started it all – the monastery.

Monks used to live there in perfect harmony for about four hundred years.

Until… just until that day… when one guy decided to have them all murdered and change the monastery into a fortress.

The reason?

He fancied a different religion.

Things happen…

That was when these walls were built around the church.

Nice, tall, firm walls… with four towers… one in every corner.

And this is the great tower – the greatest of all four towers. It was a self-sufficient tower housing the lord and his family, which, at times, became a sturdy refuge capable of withstanding at least a brief siege.

Most chambers are situated in this part of the wall.

Hello, welcome… just sit down and enjoy the view and some gunfire…

Would you like some wine or beer with that?

Other towers were used for guarding purposes.

This is the interior or the guard tower.

Please, notice the shape of the window – it widens inwards. These early windows did not let much light in, but provided good protection from incoming missiles.

Just perfect for a gun and one wakeful eye.

Where are you hiding, ugly suckers?

In case you wondered what stairs might look like after they had been used for exactly 500 years – here is the answer.

Ghosts were really good at hiding this time… but I am not giving up… I’ll find you somewhere else… don’t you worry for a second.

It’s in the Genes

I am finally at peace now.

It wasn’t like that before.

I used to struggle and ask myself these never-ending questions: “Why-oh-why dear Petra do you start a project and jump onto another one before having the first one finished? Why? Tell me why? Where’s your willpower gone?”

And then I visited my Mom’s home a few days ago… and she started showing me her recent knitting projects-opening one drawer after another…

Altogether, we counted six things that she was currently working on…

And I just don’t worry ever since…

My Favorite Book

This is my favorite book.

The favoritest…est…est of all.

It was absolute love at first sight when I first saw it.

I had instantly gotten amazed by its wonderful, vibrant colors.

And by the wonderful golden edges.

“Varázslatos mesék” means Magical Fairy-tales… this much I know.

And we are speaking Hungarian here, ladies and gentlemen.

Except, I don’t understand any other word inside the book.

Not a SINGLE word.

Because I just don’t speak Hungarian.

When I look at this page I see nothing… there’s no meaning to me at all.

… but this… this makes SO much meaning – the wonderful pictures and illustrations – it’s unbelievable.

The whole book is flooded with the loveliest pictures I have ever seen.

Some are really funny.

Some are dramatic.

Do you know this smart guy?

You surely do.

What a cute little girl.

And what a cute little puppy.

These lovely animals seem to be living in sweet and perfect harmony over there.

What a bliss.

I love these wonderful details – there’s an abundance of them in the book.

So cute.

Look – this is me… chubby and knitting.

Yay – me again, baking – that’s my thing.

I love to thumb through this book and indulge in its wonderful illustrations.

A big THANK YOU to all the people who have put this perfect piece of art together.

(P.S.: Have you noticed?… “Illustrations: Magda”.

Who are you Magda?… Where are you?… I want to be your friend.)

My Mom Is Gorgeous… Part II

I’ve already mentioned once or twice that my Mom might be the most gorgeous person in the whole universe (Daddy, don’t get jealous, you are surely gorgeous too).

This is one of my Mom’s latest paintings.

She loves to paint.

And I love her artwork.

She started painting when she was 50 years old (… which happens to be eight years ago).

Until then she could hardly draw a Christmas tree into my little book of drawings when I asked her to.

And then, one day, she secretly uttered that she would like to learn how to paint.

She said she surely wouldn’t be able to create anything worth seeing but she just would love to give some brush, paint and a canvas a chance.

That happened a couple of days before her fiftieth birthday – giving me a better hint on what to give her as a present than I could wish for.

So into a shop I went and grabbed the basic necessities for an aspiring and beginning painter.

I will never forget the wonderful sparks of joy in my Mom’s eyes as I was handing her the presents on her special day.

And since then… oh, SINCE THEN… nothing can stop my Mom from painting.

She herself wonders where it all comes from.

I had these pictures taken a while ago but waited to meet my Mom again and ask her for little descriptions to them.

When we met last weekend I asked her and got the exact answer I’d expected to get. She just said with this very shy tone in her voice: “I don’t really know what to say about it; it comes to my mind and I paint it; it just keeps appearing in front of my eyes, that’s all…”.

Well, I suppose my Mom might be a bit too humble.

She would probably consider talking about her pictures as a way of showing off – and that’s not her style for sure.

She rarely even names her picutes and she never signs them…

(Yes, right, those are artificial flowers you can see on the right. Though my Mom hates artificial flowers she will forever keep that bunch. It was a present from her own Mom for her – again – 50th birthday.

The thing is that my Grandmother hates artificial flowers too – which might make us wonder why she gave her own daughter this very much hated article. The answer is – her eyes, well, they used to be in better shape before.

When my Grand-mom found out what she had bought her own daughter for birthday, she started to cry… yes… she just collapsed into the state of utter despair. And my Mom started to cry with her… explaining that those were the most beautiful flowers she had ever seen in her whole life and in this whole galaxy of ours.

So they both cried and cried… which brings us to the end of the short story about my Mom’s bunch of fake flowers.)

Yeah, my Mom… I’d be so glad if I found such a talent in me one day too…

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...