The End Of An Era.

When I was a little girl, I drew.

I drew my dreams. Anything and everything I could not have at that given time, but could imagine in my dreams.
I drew with pencils on paper.
I drew my first apartment, the clothes I wanted, the future I imagined. The way I wanted to look.
I became absolutely proficient at drawing horses, as their romantic symbolism fueled my young mind.
As a teenager, I continued drawing, mostly escapist pictures for my girlfriends. Ethereal looking women, dreamy, with large eyes, full lips and flowing hair - they were a hit with my teenage peers.
Growing out of my teens, I moved to oil and over a few years created oil paintings, some of which still adorn the walls of my parents home, and until recently, my own walls in the white house on the hill.

As I became an adult and as my dreams shattered, I realized that life was hard and unforgiving, which took the fun out of drawing and painting and I stopped. All together.
Work and carrier took over.
Living took over to some degree as well.
Sometimes I wondered bewildered - how I could I no longer wish to paint and draw, something that was almost second nature to me...?
Yet, I knew deep within that a personal era has ended and nothing would be the same again.

And then, many years later, when life turned around and I entered a period of search and discovery once again, resembling a teenager in so many ways, but being an adult trying to find her purpose here,  I found something new and novel into which I channeled my creativity.
Writing and photography.

And as luck had it, I discovered blogging and my creativity turned into an outlet, enabling me to share my pleasure and pain, and my own life in the process, with millions of strangers.
Well, at least with all of you who are still around to read these few lines.

The last five years of my life, the ones that I have exposed to the world quiet publicly through my blog, has been the most defying years of my adulthood.
They took me through so many adventures and in such an intense way, it still makes me smile and ponder the incredible serendipity of life.
How much can unfold if we are only willing to find the courage to walk out on the limb and let it happen.
Let life happen.

Writing my online diary has been an incredible journey and I want to thank all of you, who are still here reading my last post.
Just like with my painting and drawing, I have reached an end of an era and find no longer a purpose nor need to continue.

I no longer find escape nor solace in writing - something I NEVER thought would occur. Yet my life has changed and thus so have my needs.
I no longer crave a creative outlet, as I have found my safe harbor, which grants me my dreams.

It took me half a lifetime to get here, but I have arrived and I have found my purpose in this life and my search is over. Instead I now devote my time to living.
And in some very odd way, my need to draw and paint has returned - not because I want to visualize my dreams, but rather document them coming through.

My dear friends, I do not write this post as a good bye, as experiences have taught me that we never know what lies around the corner.
Yet for now, this will be my last post before I stop writing indefinitely.

I want to dedicate it to all of you who have stuck with me through the years and who always had something nice or encouraging to say when I needed to hear it.
I would probably not be where I am now had it not been for all of you.

Thus all that remains to say is a big THANK YOU.
See you on the flip side.

xoxo
Zuzana

Here And Away.

Unintentionally, I have granted this diary with my absence.
Since my last post, cold spring turned into almost an early summer; trees, shrubs and bushes went from bare to green and bursting with bloom; the sun has gained in strength and our days grew longer, giving us several hours of extended light.
The best time of the year has indeed begun and I intend to enjoy it as much as I can, in the company of my family and foremost the man that I love, before his duty takes him away from me for months to come...

Thus forgive me that I am here now, but gone again. This is not a good bye however, this only to let you know that I will be back very soon, my dear friends. ♥

Scintillating Sky.

Gone are the unrestricted views I once had at my disposition in the white house on the hill. I still recollect fondly the captivating light shows that from spring to autumn played out in front of my windows.

These days, wide planes surround my home and our house is nestled between others, hidden from view, lacking it as well.
However, despite these limitations - and to my surprise - the obstructed horizon can nevertheless offer subtle demonstrations of natural splendor.
Just like the other evening, when twilight enveloped our surroundings and the final rays of the setting sun illuminated the three dimensional clouds.

Camera in hand, I walked around the house, capturing the scintillating spring sky in every cardinal direction, reveling in this early "white night" sneak preview...

Beautiful sights indeed always await those who take the time to notice.

Raising The Old Anchor.

For the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: 'If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?' And whenever the answer has been 'No' for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something. 
Steve Jobs

These days my mind keeps retuning to a time in my past, more than two decades ago. I was working at a university laboratory, fresh out of school, on the second year of my employment. Only twenty two years old, I enjoyed my life and the infinite, undefined future that laid ahead.

The laboratory had many members, anything from students and senior researchers to professors. Two of these were senior lab analysts, my colleagues - jovial, kind women, to whom I turned with questions and problems, when I was still very insecure in my profession and held very little experience in the science field. At that time, they have been employed there, at the same place, for over twenty years. I recall my infinite incomprehension of this fact. To me that time span accounted for a whole life time and the idea of being at the same location for such an eternity felt absolutely unimaginable. Indeed, about three years later, I left for the US, to work with my current employer.

Thus today, however outrageous that idea once seemed, I am exactly in their shoes, having worked for the same laboratory for twenty one years. There has been one relocation, the one that took me to Denmark, when my employer decided to go back home - but overall, I have been educated, trained and directed by the same man almost my whole professional life.

He brought out the hidden talents in me, gave me the opportunities to use my imagination and my skills and established an environment for me where I could thrive and flourish, excelling in the field of science with an incredible speed and endless success. He turned my work into my life and together with his wife, the couple became my best friends, a substitute family to a young girl far away from home. They became people I could - and still can today - count on one hundred percent to be there for me, should I ever need it.

Today I am one of the senior analysts in the lab.
I know where everything is, how everything works, as I am partly responsible for the overall running of the place. It is to me the young students turn with their troubles and problems. I am free to do whatever I like, I take days off at my fancy and decide my working hours. My work has always been the only constant in my life, something safe and secure. No matter how much my personal life changed, my professional life never did.

And yet, we all know that nothing ever stays the same, no matter how much we want - or expect it to. Along the way in life we make decisions that take us on novel paths, setting us on journeys that defy our world.
Thus all the choices I made in recent years in my private life slowly caused changes in my line of work as well, without me even noticing. At the onset, they were only ripples on the surface, but in time it became painfully apparent to me that the place of my employment, the one that has been my secure shelter and a solid anchor my whole adult life, has sadly played out its role...

In two weeks I will start a new job, for the first time in two decades. The emotion that encompass my being when I think about that fact is a wild mix of joy and fear.
There are days when I feel excited and happy about the prospect of a new start. I will still work in the research field, but my long commute will be cut by two hours every day, giving my personal life more freedom. However, the new position comes with responsibilities and a firm promise of hard work. I can not even recall any longer how it feels to work for someone else than my friend and my mentor and I wonder all the time whether I will be able to take direct orders from someone new - and whether he will find me competent in my skills.

Thus there are days when I wake up with a knot in my stomach, riddled with profound fear and anxiety, absolutely terrified and full of regrets. It feels as if I am to leave home again, for the first time since I was twenty, leaving my family for good, knowing I will miss them terribly.
I have made many outrageous changes in my life, but never before have I been so apprehensive about altering anything as I am today.

Somewhere deep within though, in the core of my very being, I know that I need to take this step, however scary it might seem. I need to say my thanks and my farewells and set out sailing anew.
I expect nothing and am prepared for everything, knowing hardship is linked to every change and things might get a lot worse before they get better. Yet hardship is what makes us grow and flourish, experiences have taught me that.
I believe that worst life is life lived with fear and I refuse to let fear of the unknown prevent me from embracing the very beauty of it. I try very hard to remember my own personal belief stating that change is what fuels our reality - I hope I will never get too scared to realize that.

Thus I have decided to raise my old anchor, the one that is rusty and buried in the depth of the sea, not having been moved for a very long time - a life time it seems. Yet the ship is still sail worthy and the ocean is open wide, thus lets sail into the unknown one more time.
I am confident that great adventures await.

Images: Photobucket

Dawn By iPhotography.

My daily run is slowly becoming a favorite part of my morning.
Not just because I love the exercise, but mostly due to the incredible natural beauty that meets my gaze. Watching a still landscape waking up to a stunning dawn is the most perfect way to start a new day.

I run with my iPhone in the pocket.
Initially, this was to check the time and provided me with a sort of security, as I venture into deserted fields. However, it has become a tool to document the enchanted beauty of panoramic views at sunrise.

Sadly, my little Nikon ceased functioning a couple of months ago, thus until I buy a new pocket camera, my phone seems to be a suitable substitute. Considering the quantum leap that technology has taken just in a few decades, I view every capture I snap with it as a true marvel. Ten years ago no one ever thought that a phone would be substituting point-and-shoot cameras.

My very first camera was made by Kodak and today it would be considered as ancient at the very best, but in 1982 it was a modern gadget. Of course, viewed with today's eyes, the pictures were of limited quality, nevertheless, I was fascinated by its simple process and by the sheer possibility of being able to the capture moments in time.
Unfortunately, when vacationing in the south of Europe one summer, I left it on the rooftop of my parents car at a rest stop. When I realized this some three hours later, I had to accept that it was lost forever.

Since then I have own many cameras - some inexpensive, some of better quality - yet my love for photography only grew.
Almost every day I take pictures of something that entices me, either using my beautiful Canon or my phone. The fact that I can take hundreds of shots and view them instantly will never cease to mesmerize me - anyone can be a photographer these days.
Still, I can at times get slightly sentimental recollecting the anticipation of the old film processing. Taking pictures in the past was just like a box of chocolates - you never knew what you were going to get.

Below: Images of an April dawn taken with my iPhone during my recent run, please click to enlarge.

And here below a sentimental walk down the memory lane - the old add for my first camera.:)

Siberian And Sunny.

Snowdrops

Our first vernal month goes down in history as one of the coldest ever measured. Air streaming directly from Siberia has kept the atmospere frigidly cold and the ground snow covered - but our skies have been unusually sunny for weeks at end, accounting for a seventy year old record.
I have mixed feelings about the cold weather. Indeed it is unbearable when winter is endless, yet I rather have cold, sunny skies, then warm, rainy air.

Nevertheless, a change of seasons is in the process and spring has gotten one foot in. The sun is gaining in strength by each and every day and despite the temperatures hoovering around zero, I decided to bundle up and take a walk in our new neighborhood this past weekend.

We live at the outskirts of the town and thus very quickly I found myself leaving the residential area behind and I begun walking among empty fields. Despite the flat lands, the views came across as absolutely enchanting, my gaze tracing an endless horizon, as the vital sunshine warmed my face. Listening to the singing of the lark, a bird song so significant of these parts, I realized that vernal bloom was covering the surroundings and that unmistakable sense of spring saturated the air. That undefinable yet so tangible perception of awakenings at winters end.

My Walk

My hour long walk inspired me to take up running, something I gave up on last autumn. Thus just before sunrise, every morning this week, I set out onto the frost covered ground, into Siberian conditions, to greet a world that was still asleep. With the moon setting in the west and the imminent sunrise in the east, I ran on a path among barren fields, marveling at the natural beauty.
And as always, nature put my mind to ease...

A lot is occupying my thinking these days, some of the thoughts fill me with anxiety.
Somewhere deep within me there is a sadness gaining hold. The seasonal shift means that summer is getting closer and so is the departure of the man that I love.
Once again, we will be separated for four months and already now this weights heavy on my heart. Having tried it before is actually not making things any easier. Oddly enough, harder. I can only take consolation in my own strength, that one that I found last time around. And in the profound love that we share.

Thus new projects are being planned in my mind, to keep me occupied, the spirits up and the sinister thoughts at bay.
Gardening is on top of the list. 

Forgotten Hyacinths

Our garden is beautiful, but in a simple way and I definitely am not a simple gardener. There is a total lack of vernal bloom - no spring flowers adorn the flowers beds, something I truly miss. And yet, cleaning our greenhouse the other day, I stumbled upon a forgotten pot, left behind by the former owners. It was full of blue hyacinths. The bulbs have survived the winter and were blooming despite the lack of watering - I took it as subtle sign that everything will be well.

I am also planning to undertake a project involving a mural painting. There is a spot above the Provence inspired stove area in our kitchen, in form of a little alcove in the wall. It absolutely screams for a tranquil French still-life. I am indeed excited about the prospect of reviving my old hobby - painting. Right now I am in stages of planning and preparations, in search of suitable paint and motif.

Danish Passport

I have officially become Danish and that leaves me with a sense of a bittersweet finale. A door is closing upon the first half of my adult reality. Yet simultaneously another one is opening wide.
I went to a photographer having a picture taken for my new driving license and passport. I had to gasp when the photographer returned the images to me, as I met the gaze of a middle aged woman. What happened to that young girl that used to smile at me for a decade, every time I opened my old Swedish passport? I guess she is forever gone - but maybe that is not such a bad thing.

Aging used to bother me quiet a bit. It still does and probably always will, yet I have started to slowly surrender myself to time.
Would I like to be twenty again? I am not so sure. Life is short, yet the magic lies in its ephemerality. I have done exactly what I was suppose to do and what I wanted to do. I have no regrets and no need to go back in time.
Ultimately I will happily trade my youth for the privilege of unforgettable experiences and priceless knowledge.

Endless Views Near Our Home

The Same Views At Dawn - The Setting Moon

The Same Views At Dawn - The Rising Sun

Vernal Light.

Vernal Sunset

Evocative natural beauty.
Attempting to savor and enjoy its transcending magic, I tried to capture and convey my experiences in images rather than words. These might - in their simplicity and simultaneously their complexity - more adequately describe my recent encounters than any lengthy writing.
Sometimes silence is golden.

Thus I present to you my tribute to the returning light and my fascination with the time of vernal twilight, the evening sky and the celestial objects adoring my views currently.

Happy Easter everyone - I shall return with a more profound writing next week.
Until then, may these images speak more than words.

Almost Full Moon

Moon Rise

Sunset From Our Garden

Driving Home

Solar Power Upon Dusk

Spring Snow.

Crossing the vernal equinox this week, we have officially entered the second season. Winter however seems to think otherwise. The Ice Lady never leaves voluntary and fights to the bitter end to remain in reign in my part of the world.
Her wrath is endless and currently absolutely fierce, making this March one for the record books as the coldest ever meassured.

Nature and animals yearn for spring and so do we. Everywhere I look, there is a pristine blanket of spring snow and the easterly winds blow arctic air over us, keeping the temperatures below freezing.

The only vernal sign is the light. The sun is raising earlier and setting later by each passing day. There is something altered about the daylight as well, as it slowly turns platinum instead of golden.

Despite the final fury of the winter, a point of no return has been reached and that universal feeling of an approaching seasonal shift can clearly be perceived - the best time of the year has already begun.

Moody March.

Our Fire

We are mid March and the subzero temperatures are back. The brief taste of spring at this month's onset disappeared as fast as it arrived - lady Winter is not ready to quit just yet.
As we all know, the first vernal month is capricious and moody. It can switch between seasons at its own fancy, testing our patience and tolerance. In my native language, there is a rhyme that describes this third month something like this; March, lets get back to the fire.

And that is indeed my favorite spot currently. In fact that is where I am sitting right now, typing away.

Our house came with a wood-burning stove. Even though it can by no means match the beauty of my old fireplace in the white house on the hill, it does what it is suppose to do - it creates a cozy, warm spot in our living room. Equipped with a glass door, it enables me to watch the fire. I love everything about it - the scent, the sound and the hypnotic dance of the flames that so easily make my mind travel in time and space.
This feature is one of the reasons why I fell for our house at first sight.

Beam Of Morning Sun

There is yet another illumination defining my perception currently; the increasing daylight.
The light - whether it is the lack or abundance of it - is my infinite fascination with the European North. I love the incredible shifts that the seasons here provide. The winter and the summer differ about eleven hours when it comes to light - and we are only in southern Scandinavia.
Our home does not have any spectacular views of either sunrises or sunsets, still the bay windows of the north facing kitchen can offer alluring morning views. Recently, during a winter dawn, the young sun emitted a beam of light, shooting straight up across the purple sky like a solar laser, creating an unforgettable moment.

View Into Our Living-room

The house is starting to look like a home. It is amusing to watch my belongings emerge from all the boxes, being mixed with my husbands possessions. I have not seen my things for the past year and a half and it is infinitely exciting to realize that our items fit together so very well and that we both have similar taste in interior design.

Sometimes I have to smile when I think about how one single decision, the one that I took against all odds and the one that made my family and friends question my sanity - took me here. Today no one any longer doubt my abilities to choose, even if it took me a while to get my choices right.

My phone chimes as a text message arrives from my stepdaughter. She is out with her friends and I am sitting here, in the warmth of the flickering fire, waiting for her to come home safely.
She is my responsibility today, as are the boys, while their father is once again away through work, an occurrence I am slowly getting accustomed to.
Her text is full of affectionate words that touch me almost to tears...

I experience a momentary flashback to when I was a teenager and my own mom was waiting for me and my sister, to come home from a dance, or a party.
My husband's daughter is as carefree as I was then and I am as worried sick, as my mother was.

Text From My Stepdaughter

It is not easy to be a step mom and half of the time I have no idea what I am doing. I move constantly in an uncharted territory, being thrown into a substitute parenthood of three teenagers, who two years ago did not even know I existed. I find it difficult at times to relate to my role - I am not their mother, nor will I ever be, yet I participate more than just a friend in their life.
Furthermore I missed out on their early years, I never seen them as babies or children and just jumped into a life in progress - I do not know the first thing about raising kids, least of all teenagers.
In the end of the day though all I can do is to trust that my love and good intentions are enough... The touching words in my stepdaughters message are at least a good indication that I am on the right track.

A log falls over in the fire and Sammy shifts in the chair opposite me.
All of the Sammy (aka Batcat) fans will be happy to learn that my feline companion is doing superb. He survived the move without any problems. The initial shock of the relocation lasted only a couple of hours and already on the first day, Sammy happily roamed the house, searching for his new favorite spot.
On sunny days he can be exclusively found napping inside one of our southbound windows. Watching him sleep this way is extremely soothing, as no one can relax and enjoy life as the felines can.
One day I hope he will let me in on his secret.

Our "Sammy boy"

Baby Birch.

Those of you who have been reading my writing for a while know that I am a nature lover. Most of all, I love trees - birch trees in particularly. There is something almost elf like in their shape and the texture of their alabaster bark.

I have had a special relationship with birch trees in Denmark, it seems.
The westerly panoramas of my white house on the hill were lined by a row of them. Additionally, there was a stunning tree that adorned my easterly view. I was so fascinated by it, that I documented its changes over a course of four seasons. Those images are all that remains as a testimony to its existence, as it was cut down by my neighbors shortly before I moved, much to my great shock and disbelief.
When I moved up north, there was an old birch growing in the front yard of our old, rental home. I loved to watch it shift throughout the year from my favorite spot in the kitchen.

Walking around our new property the other day, I was overjoyed when I found a very young, baby birch next to the greenhouse. It has the most beautiful, paper thin, ivory bark I have ever seen and in the shine of the late winter sun it stood out almost illuminated against the azure blue sky. The slim branches carry already buds, which will turn into catkins in about a month, announcing the arrival of spring.

This time around this birch belongs to us. Its fate is in our hands and it is safe. I find it very exhilarating to know that once again I can watch - and document - the seasonal changes of a stunning tree, completely undisturbed, hopefully for years to come.

Sneak Previews.

Views during my current drive

We are about to enter the first spring month, yet I have absolutely no idea what happened to February. It came and went.
As it slowly concludes this week, the sense of spring hangs unmistakably in the air.
Winter is far from done, still I love those covert sneak previews of what is yet to come.

The first thing I noticed as I set out on my long daily commute this past Monday, after almost fourteen days break - was the increase in light.
Our day has gained over three hours since the winter-solstice, a fact that can clearly be perceived during my drive. It's onset is by now undertaken no longer under the veil of darkens, but with views of breathtaking sunsets, which slowly grow into rainbow coloured skies, turning only to dusk as I arrive at my destination. Additionally, this past week the evening twilight was dispersed by an alluring full moon rise and the silver disc accompanied me all the way home, illuminating the road with its platinum shine.

Detail from our Garden

I love this time of the year, when a certain awakening is about to commence and a hidden joy rises in nature.
This spring once again, a novel environment awaits to make my acquaintance. The garden of our new home is currently tranquil and it comes across as an undiscovered treasure. Having had to leave it almost immediately after our move, it took me almost two weeks before I actually stepped out onto the lawn and took a walk around our house.

As I did so, momentarily I recollected my father, many years back, as he walked out barefoot onto the small yard of my parents first house, in midwinter, just to feel the ground beneath his feet. I recall he was overwhelmed by the feeling of ownership.
I felt the same giddy feeling and additionally I felt as I was about to walk into a secret, locked room, only it was on the outside. Walking about, I rediscovered my old pots left on the side of the house by the movers, surveyed the empty greenhouse, the shed and the multitude of bushes, shrubs and trees I yet have to name. Coming full circle into our garage, where my husband was sorting through the many boxes still waiting to be unpacked, I had to share with him my first impressions after surveying our property. He smiled and put his arm around my shoulders, looking at me with those hypnotic grey-blue eyes that always seem to disarm me. "This will be good..." he said as he kissed me and I felt happiness envelop me like a warm blanket.

The Garage

I love him endlessly and forever.
I love him despite the fact that the last three weeks saw us arguing more then during the whole time we have known each other. Being pushed to our limits, first with an endless move followed by a vacation that was anything but relaxing, we met each others dark sides, those that crawl out of the woodwork when going gets tough. It truly put our affection for each other to the test, but overall I think we passed with flying colours. Being able to laugh and joke about our disputes after they have passed and realizing that the best place to fall asleep is still in each other arms, we know we are exactly where we are suppose to be.

Giving you a sneak preview of my new home, I can conclude that it often reminds me of my old white house on the hill. It lacks the stunning views, yet I find myself smiling constantly as I come across something that brings back memories of my past residence. Even the kitchen sink is identical.
Just as much as I loved my white house, I am in love with our new house and I will only grow to love it more with time.
I love that it feels like our home. I love the way we spend our days trying to decorate the space slowly and respectfully, combining our belongings, making them fit together. Surprisingly, they do fit very well.
I love the vaulted ceilings, large windows and open rooms, which are nevertheless designed to create cozy and intimate spots, such as around the wood burning stove, gathering a family together. I relish in the luxurious inventory, the large walk in closet, the combined pantry - wine cellar, the modern materials and the privilege of two large bathrooms, having no longer a need to rise an hour earlier to enjoy a morning bath.

Old pot in the greenhouse

I have waited a long time, much longer than most people do, to experience certain golden, defying moments in life. Instead, they all happened quickly, leaving me a bit bewildered at times.
In a very short time span I found the love of my life and relocated, very soon thereafter I became a wife and a step mom, a landlord, a property owner and furthermore, I am about to change employment.

While I have enjoyed this roller-coaster ride, at times I am almost waiting to exhale, exhausted and tired, holding my breath, bracing myself for all that is still ahead.
But I guess that is life and as I learn to roll with the punches, passing the points of no return, there is a certain exhilaration in all this accomplishment.
There is a sense of being alive.

Mountain Splendor.

The past two weeks, even though they have flown by, come across in time span rather like two months.
We have been packing, we have been moving, we have been unpacking for days on ends, discarding and purchasing, putting things in place and decorating - until we were simply too exhausted to even breathe.
Then, just when we thought we were done, another kind of packing was set in place.

Before we even got the chance to enjoy our new home, we set out on a sixteen hour drive south, in order to savor the beauty of the majestic mountain range of central Europe, frolicking in sunshine and snow. Our skiing vacation, planned last summer, did not coincide very well with out move - but I guess the best in life is unplanned.

The beauty of the European Alps is breathless and the time we get to spend gazing at the snow covered mountain peaks, priceless.
And yet, once it is time to say our good byes, we will not feel sadness leaving all this splendor behind. Rather we will with joy look forward to return to our brand new home.

All images taken in the Italian Alps, February 2013.

The Three Things I Own.

Elizabeth and Me, in 2011

The allures of my blogging experience are many, but by far the most rewarding one is the multitude of friends I have made over the years.
Some of them I have never met in person and yet we have shared the good and the bad through the tides of time. I take part in their life as much they take part in mine, making me smile, cry and contemplate.

One of the absolutely profound and substantial connections I have made here have been with a Dutch Lady - a truly empathetic, poetic and gentle soul. An artist at heart, inspiring and passionate, she writes a lovely blog called Landanna.
Just like me, she is a foreigner in Denmark and have been my greatest confidant through the most intense and defining time of my life.
Although we only met once, the aura of that meeting will always illuminate my recollection.

Being busy moving to a new home this week, unable to update my online diary, I have invited Elizabeth to be my guest-blogger, to which she kindly agreed.
I hope you will enjoy her candid and poignant writing as much as I do.

Thank you Elizabeth for being you.

The Three Things I Own 
by Elizabeth at Landanna

A few weeks back my "little sister" asked if I was willing to write a guestpost for her since she was so busy with the move to her new home.
What other reply than yes could I give to my dear friend and partner in non-crime and silliness.

Sletterhage Lighthouse

Let me give you a glimpse of our friendship.
In October 2009, Zuzana and I met through her post about Sletterhage fyr, a lighthouse that has a special place in my heart.
Thus this whirlwind of kindness started to visit my blog - very soon we became friends and started writing each other daily.

Some days just some scribbles.
Other days the mails consist out of smileys, when we act more like teenage girls than back in the days when we were teenage girls. In a number of mails we gave each other a written handkerchief to dry our tears or make each other dance in front of the computer to the latest music of our heart. And then there were these discussions in which she did her best to persuade me to blog about that particular subject.
All of this without ever meeting - yes it took us three years before we finally took that step. Still, I have very fond memories of meeting my "Sweety" and her husband-to-be.

One of our favorite discussions was about The Three Things I Own, a piece I wrote a long time ago, but which somehow stayed with me.

"Leaf In The Wind"

The first one is my soul, the energy that makes me who I am, the energy that communicates with my environment, the energy that gives me the possibility of sharing my love with the world.

The second one, which is also my very own, is my body.
My body, the house of my soul, the storage place of my memories, the workshop of my talents, the only piece of my ownership that is palpable. My body is the first merit I am judged upon by others, since that is the first thing they lay their eyes upon.

The third piece I own is time.
This commodity is one everybody has, but no one knows how much time they have on this planet. Each minute can be our last one and still we feel immortal. How we spend our time is very important, not to reach the highest economical goal but the most fulfillment for ones soul.

"Changing The Landscape"

Our inability to survive on our own and the need to define ourselves makes us want to belong to a group of people with similar traits. If we don't find such a group, feelings of vulnerability emerge. Does this mean that if you find a group your worries are over? No, groups and their agendas change constantly, adjustments are needed, just to keep on fitting in. Still, each person we meet might be a teacher we are in need of. He or she tells us something, or makes different choices and the way we view this gift defines who we are.
Finding out what we need/want - but most of all what is uniquely ours to give to the world - is the journey through life.

Normally I'm not one that writes lengthy posts, since I'd rather tell my stories by holding my needle. I nevertheless hope you enjoyed yourself while I took you on a sailing trip through our friendship and Landanna.
Next week my little sister will be writing again despite of all the boxes she still undoubtedly needs to unpack.

Good luck Sweety!
All my love your big sis. e.

"Courtship, For The Love Of It"

Natural Scenes

Note: Images throughout this post (except the first two) depict Elizabeth's art and her photography.