But… but how can it be Juli already? I mean really? Someone is messing with time, totally! Trust me. I am not ready for summer. Although… I am ready for autumn and winter, so maybe it is okay?



So it is Juli, okay July, have some Danish.

Not that it changes anything?

There is a thick mist around me, and lovely rain, so it is okay. Not too hot, not even too warm if I must be true. It is panties weather – if you work at home LOL – bu still you should have a blouse somewhere around you, close, or a thin blanket. But this mist, this thick milky, cold mist always fascinates me. I mean always. It is like all the souls combined together to let you finally see something very important. To be focused on this, what you have forgotten… you. Nope, there is nothing selfish in taking care of you. Because if you know how to deal with things, if you train it on yourself… one time you can tell someone how it was, and maybe help him solve one or two problems, soo… I love this mist. Mist closing me in a small bauble, where suddenly I can hear myself.

And also answer…

PS. We have a new priest in town. Yeah, as a pagan, or more like someone who is fond of cultural anthropology, I am crazy about it. Just look how cute the priest is. Just look…  See, I thought that here, in Danmark, people will not care about the fact the priest has boobs. I thought so… Oh my, I was so wrong!!! For me, as someone raised in a scary catholic Poland, she is something so refreshing. I do not know her, but looking at her sermons and way of life, I think she is intelligent and really interesting. She has heart and mind on right places. Still… people here are semi glad. Or more like less glad only because she is… she. Oh the horror!!! LOL

How the heck we women scare others so much? I mean really? How does it work? And why we do not use it more? LOL

Here… have some ice cream.


They don’t die!!!

Of course I know he was 91, soo… I should expect this, but still the information about death of Michael Bond made of me a sad little “crowbear”. Yeah. I am half bear half crow, somehow. It happens when you are… weird. Or special, or unusual, or just you. But in fact, trust me, he is not dead. Because those who write, create, especially authors of books which touched our hearts, they never die.

It is impossible!!!


I remember my first time.

I was few years old in still communistic Poland… someone brought from abroad or more like it was send by some nice soul… booklets, little adverts of/about Paddington Bear. I do still remember me, getting nothing from what was written there, but seeing that little fluffy guy in his hat and coat, with that brown suitcase. Asking others about Peru. I had those cards for so long. They disappeared with one of our moving adventures, but I still remember this feeling. See, since I was tiny, or more like just a zygote, I was reading. Books were a huge part of my life, almost everything and bears and crows. In fact those three pieces easily created an adult me. Adult still loving Paddington. The Bear who in fact always has his own ideas, things he loved, and always knew what he was up to. Oh yes, of course when you got paws and claws things can easily go not right, but still… this is how he wanted to live, love and… eat.

So nope. Dear Mister Bond, Michael Bond… you are not dead.

Not to me.

I always can open one of your books. You will be forever a piece of me.


Are colors kitsch?

Did you notice, that all those modern, fancy and in fashion homes and interiors are now black and white. Simple, hard, so nonhuman. Suddenly this is the only thing called art. White and black.



In fact not moving your imagination.


Does it mean colors are kitsch now?

Funny thing… once upon a time some people – archaeologists, thought all Roman and ancient Greeks sculptures where just stone. In fact just white, marble, a bit grey or light peachy. You know… clean. When one expedition found leftovers of colors on them… well, they tried to remove it, because it was so not it. It was not something they wanted to show to the world. The world which fall in love in simple stone sculptures. Amazing and stunning, so perfectly created… but not so when colored.

Suddenly now only black and white photos are called art. When you see them with colors, before filters, well… that lighting, that creations, perspective, all this does not matters anymore. It must be black and white to be fancy and… expensive. Does it mean colors do not matter anymore? Or maybe people stopped getting them? Having fun with them? Or maybe, what is the most probable, is that people follow stuff newspapers and TV told them fancy is… and here is the problem. So now we got too many flamingos in decor and too much palm leaves. They are everywhere.

Why people are so afraid to like something else? Like me 😉 LOL Like me. I am something else. OOAK.




For so many of you such a simple thing. Do you even look at them, or just open and close. Look for keys, swear when they are missing. But when it comes to doors… do you still see them. I mean really? Because when it comes to windows, they are see thru, so you can be easily interested what is inside, but doors… they are not that easy. They are a portal to another world. Maybe not yours… maybe the one you should not pass thru? Maybe… because a home should be a safe place. One and only. Ages ago when people were building one, one for a whole life, they were putting sacrifices under the corners, or just in front of the future doors. Some tribes still bring back their dead relatives and dig them under the floor, just to be always, forever together…

But we nowadays move so often. So you have your family home? I do not. There were so many of them…


Okay, when it comes to doors, I have a special crush on them. Like with windows, I find them interesting, I love them colorful and special. I love mine decorated all year round. And  I am so into this doors mystery. All those customs: not to welcome someone thru a doorstep, cleaning them for a good luck, putting herbs there, always have them close like rosemary and thyme… and of course carrying your lady when you step into for a first time as a husband and wife.

Doors always should have a step or few, but not too many. They should not be on a path level, but also should be inviting, never clothed, with a clean but wavy path…

But the most important magic are colors.


Green for a good luck, money, abundance. Like trees, woods, nature…


Turquoise one for those special, who wanna be seen, but also safe. Wooden often parted in two, because you know, you could talk with someone, but also not to get him inside. You could be safe, but also polite…

And then come those special. Not so common, but with one of strongest magic… Red – bloody red for protection. Hiding fire behind them and strong personalities.


And my fav ever… cobalt blue. These one I want to have in my home if I ever have one for my own. If ever… Old people say these are one of the most powerful. Protect from evil spirits, get only good come inside, and also tell all those around, that the one living here is special. Very special. I will have them once, I will!



PS. A special gift for Jul here in Danmark are dwarf’s doors. Small, which you glue to the wall, close to a floor. Sweet and cute. More magic…


News from my Island

Well, in fact there is not much… we had some things going on and some not going on. We have a windy weather, but in fact it is not that hot as it used to be last year. We fight for a tree, but nobody listens… If you want to help us, please sign the petition. It goes from the top: name, surname, city and email. Nothing wrong will happen. But one linden tree can be saved. It should not be like they want, to change a piece of green into some art… art, which in fact could truly find another place to be worshiped. We have plenty of places it could be put, if there is a must, but they do not listen.

I mean those up there.

Here is the tree – main photo. Here are photos of the art, which in fact is only a plastic copy of a round church – we have 4 on Bornholm, made of stones not plastic of course, old. And art as this should not be on a busy road if so… tree will at least do something with the air, that so called art… well can only disturb. And how tourists are suppose to use it? They can not touch it or take a photo with it if it is on a roundabout.


Except this… well it is summer, so we have more tourists. My Island is stuffed with tents and caravans. With people I do not know. With loud noises and cyclists which are not very nice, and in fact do not care about the traffic law. But it is all. We have it every year. The Season. it started…

And done.

I love it!

I do love it, that we have nothing more. We do still have problems with Russian u boot, American planes trying shoosh them, and this weird fear, that Putin wanna take Bornholm from Danmark, but it is all. The rest is green, wavy and birdy. My crows are crazy, fighting with seagulls about every piece which is possible to eat. And that is all… herbs are dancing with the wind, roses are red, purple, pink and yellow…

Why… why we can not stay just calm, hard working, and clean, and green, and ecological. Especially with this wind?


Standing lady

She is standing here.

She is standing here since ages… waiting, but for what?


For me she was always kind of Pieta from Bornholm. Older than we are, older than this road, homes, thoughts. Older than… memory about Her. A woman holding her love one she was waiting for. The sea took his life, but gave her his body. She could mourn him, but now, she put him under her feet and is mad… Mad on nature, the sea and the sky. She is furious, but all she can do is cry her eyes out, because she can not bring his life back. But still, she has hope, and is waiting…

But for what?

After thousands of years she is just a stone, pointy shaped. Just a stone, but the story is still here. And a grave. Now empty. But little stones surrounding it are still guarding this story. This year She was my Midsummer One. I always choose one place which is special for me and this year she pushed in front. She just cried for attention. I have no idea why… is there something more?

For me?


Later, a bit late, I will create wreaths and go to my other places, to again tell them: I remember. This kind of past is my one. Somehow more suiting. Much older than this what people care about. I will go to my Ancestors – few burial mounds, one of the older, and to Louisenlund. I will be there to visit The Ghost and others… I will come to you. As always, but this year, a bit later, because of the sun. Because of this sadness inside of me. And because… I miss winter so much.


Again – field of lupines

It is like standing in candies.


I mean really, because when you have such amount of lupines, they smell so sweet, and so.. normal. So old-fashioned. Like it used to be before… before people started to have weird needs. Before they started to use the soil as it was a “neverending” story, as it did not have a need to rest… before…


Oh that smell is such an inspiration.

I just, I just wanna take all my empty canvases and smash them with flowers, together, and squeeze them between other dimensions and then put them back on white walls. and then again and again. Will it let the aroma stay forever or I got to change myself into that boy from “Parfume”… he did not end well, as I remember?

But I bet it is a good lesson about: I wanna piece of you, right? LOL


So much inspiration.

So many lessons about colors being able to live together.

And all being of one kind. And this is just a simple field. Nothing more, nothing less. And still it is a pure perfection, which makes my mind blow!!!


One more secret…

I have a secret.

Maybe it is another one, maybe first you will get from me, but… I do have it. Okay, maybe it is in fact not a big one, not a world-breaker, but still it is a secret. And it is a dirty one!!! Obvious for some of you because you could seen my photos or maybe you bought one of them, or you just got it earlier than I did…


I like dirty windows.

Yup, next to laundry pins and laundry, I like dirty windows.

Somehow clear one scares me. Reflects too much. Or maybe is just too obvious. Just too windowy? Denuded of mystery and magic? Not enough mysterious for me? Too just glass and wood or plastic. Too… simple. Because when it is covered in dust, spider nets and all those dirty pieces, old flies, maybe zombies and all that stuff. Everything is more interesting when it is covered. At least a little.

It is like with boobs and naked people. Cover them a bit, and they are interesting. Make them full nude and there is no interest at all. I mean really. If you wanna make something more interesting sprinkle it with dust, use some lace… make it semi visible. Make being and hidden. Make it this way.

This way is so much more interesting.

Trust me!


Playing and partying… PPP

… never.

I think I never got it.

And will never get it. See, as a kid I hated other kids, I was forced to play with them, to pretend… it never ended nicely. If there was only a way, I was easily running away. They were just playing so weirdly! I mean playing home, kids, family. Mum and dad… pieces of life I never understand.

Adult things seeing with closed eyes.


Later it was not better.

Loneliness was easy.

You can not hurt anyone if you are alone. And finally, you can play as you want to. Walk, read, work… because work is a play sometimes too.

There always had to be this weird “ordnung” in my life. So partying was not the option too. Somehow too much noise, too much people, touching, alcohol – I never learn to like it or coffee, so I was always one of those still saber. Being unable to control, people, weird acts, nope, I could not find myself in it. And drunk ones could not normally play with me… so, I was that funbraker.

If I was born today, I could be diagnosed as ADHD and Asperger… but in the old days, it was just… being me.

And a third P… well praying. I mean really. I am not good in it too. Never was… Maybe I just have problems with Ps? LOL


Poppies and cornflowers…

In fact, there is that Agatha Christie novel, where there is a wallpaper in poppies and cornflowers. You know it by any chance? A women comes back to England, newlywed and buys a home in which she has weird visions. Of course people think she gets crazy, and only Jane Marple sees more here. Yup, there is also a very thin love story, and some scary moments… but this wallpaper in one of her visions, reminded me of something. Of fields full of those flowers. And camomile. And those violet one… which I have no idea how they are named. And…


I will sound like a very old person, but theses days everything smelled differently, looked differently, and somehow was more normal. Sorry dudes. I am ancient. C14 has problems with me. LOL

I remember those fields. So pretty. I remember walking and picking up wild flowers, making wreaths. I remember the time when we were not afraid of ticks. I remember. I feel like an elephant which remembers everything. And you know what… it hurts. Now to fins poppies I have to walk and walk and walk and they still are not the same poppies. And cornflowers. Well, they are so rare.

Like bees.



Still… from time to time, and because my Island decided to come back to nature and ban some nasty pesticides, they appear. With this special poppy redness. And my dream about fields full of poppies, you know those other poppies banned because humans decided to make lousy drugs from them… which were singing when they heads were dried, and seeds inside of them were dancing. Oh my, I am weird. Or unique maybe as my friend, awesome drawer Sheepish said… (check her FB)

Maybe… or maybe I just miss time when things were a bit easier. And fields were bigger and higher. Trust me, wheat was so tall. And watching for flowers was such an awesome play. And eating fresh wheat seeds. Oh well, I am ancient.