My mother provided today’s door, just as the very pretty one last week. That one was from Gent (Belgium), this one can be found in Mallaig, Scotland.
I’m adding one of my reading experiments from last week as today’s poem. It will be in the book with my mum for certain – well, if we get the book document restored. That stress isn’t over yet.
I’m relieved that I don’t have to write anything new for today. I’ve spent the morning developing a new, practical tool against #procrastination and writing a blog post for my other blog. My energy is spent, but I’m happy with the result!
For more doors, hop over to #ThursdayDoor host Norm.
It’s Thursday Door time again! I’m stressed today. My mum and I are working on a book that combines her photography with my poetry. We’re getting near to the finish line, but somehow Blurb doesn’t show any of the photos in the last version I’ve sent her.
Today I present to you a door by my mum (no clue about the what, where and how of it) and a recording of me testing out a poem. It’s probably going to be in the book, and I was checking if it needs edits by reading out loud.
See through my
See me through
See me through my
I will show
Imagine walking through the woods and suddenly stumbling upon this… Today I was looking through old photos and came across this memory.
It was a few years ago. My son had looooooong swimming lessons, far away from home, and I happily killed time by walking through the nearby woods. Dutch woods aren’t very big so you often see buildings through the trees – an indication your almost out of the wood, so they tend to irritate me.
Stumbling upon these buildings felt like an adventure. Unexpected, exciting architecture – in the middle of nowhere! (As far is nowhere is to be found in my very small country). It turned out to be one of the earliest examples of building in concrete in the Netherlands. It used to be a sanatorium, and actually is a complex of buildings. Very modernistic. Very graceful.
If you like doors, head over to Norm who hosts doors and door posts from all over the world. Every Thursday we gather there to share our favourite doors and enjoy their beauty.
Landgoed zonnestraal te Hilversum
Audiotour (in Dutch)
stolen chewing marks
from the balcony
but the doors
Claim stabilised stairs
your source of power
the end of
– my pharmaceutical lab
Norm asked us to de a review of our Thursday Doors this year, and post our favourite ones. Since I have only participated for some months, I wondered what I could do instead. I got an idea when I visited Dan’s post.
I put all my door pictures next to each other, and tried to use them as prompts for a poem. Each picture a wod or a line. This is the result.
Happy holidays everyone, and see you next year!
There’s mud flowing through my veins, calling me to slow down and visit ancient times, to hunt the riddle that has been in my family for eons, to solve that part of the cosmic puzzle that we unknowingly have always been the keeper of.
But what if my piece doesn’t fit? What if time has changed the edges of the jigsaw beyond recognition? What if I’m carrying a copy and the original has been lost, back in the days? What if everything is ready but I’m not?
What if I’m not up to the task? What if I get lost, or bored – or distracted? What if I freeze? What if I don’t want to? What if the puzzle is not a puzzle after all?
I’ve just inherited mud.
Todays #ThursdayDoor is dedicated to Manja, because it’s one of the old Ljubljana holiday pictures I promised her to dig up. It’s better when it’s properly scanned, but I had to work with my selfie camera. I think these doors were in the city center, but it’s been a loooooong time ago that I made the picture so I’m not sure.
The poem could be called a prose poem. Except for that those don’t have line breaks. So it’s not.
More doors can be found at the blog of our door keeper, Norm.
Gentle and steady
I bow my head
Last week’s #ThursdayDoor was taken from a hotel room in Spain. I also took a picture of these doors, because I wanted to share them with you.
I went to Spain for the second year of my education, even though I have a broken foot and I’ve had hardly any income for months because of it. The work we do there is too good to miss out on.
I think I underestimated how tough it would be, and in a way I’m glad I did. I probably wouldn’t have gone if I’d know I would be crying on day 2, because I was physically unable to go from the hotel restaurant back to the conference room. I was too tired. Too scared of the wet foot path. So I cried, and I asked for help. I wanted to be in the room where we learn, not alone and exhausted in my hotel room.
And help I received. In many different ways. People stayed with me, and helped me get back to the conference room. Someone checked if I’s be able to rent a wheel chair, and then arranged it for me together with another lovely person. The group chipped in to help me finance the wheelchair. I got help getting my food at meal time, taking me and the chair up the (many) stairs in the hotel. I got swirled around and danced with in the bar, patted gently on my cast..
It’s hard to explain what this has meant to me. I normally try to do things on my own, be independent, self-catering to my needs… So this was Different. Very Different. But it made my week. I’ve felt supported, loved, cared for, seen, and a number of synonyms I can’t even come up with. Maybe I can best explain it by what happened afterwards.
Last night I had a nightmare. It was about NOT asking for support, and how everything went wrong because of that. In my dream I felt that I needed support, and also why I didn’t ask for it or accept it. Me old-style… I was so happy when I woke up and
realised it was a nightmare. In reality, all those things didn’t go wrong. And I now know how to ask for support, allow for it, be grateful for it, and even enjoy it sometimes.
To the horizon
Time to relax now