Where are you from?
Well this is my last post for this year, just breath before the new year!
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Well 2011 was for me a very intense, but also happy and creative year! If you ask me, i will tell you that this year was spent like a steam and all the events in my memories are as they happened yesterday. However the didn't, time passes and we are just viewers of our memories. Anyway, this issue raises a lot of writing and I prefer catching it another day!
So I'll leave you with an article I wrote before Christmas and i neglected to show it before. Some of my wishes were fullfilled, some other not yet but hopefully soon! So I wish you a wonderful new year, with health, happiness and be optimistic!
As for me? I will be in a ski chalet in the new year's eve, being plain exhausted after a whole day of snowboarding!
What are your plans for new year's eve?
"Where are you from?"
Well after the “what’s you name” question, the “where are you from?” is the clear and unquestionable winner of the most-stupid-and-annoying-question category. Hmm maybe after the “Do you love mostly your mum or your dad?” or not, I don’t know. I only know that, from the time you remember yourself, all these not lovable relatives ask you one thing : “Where are you from?”
Well, to tell you the truth the exact and proper answer is: “Well my Dad is from the city (A), my mum from the city (B) and we lived a little bit in the city (A). Although as my dad is a doctor, we moved to the city (C) for a year, then in the town (D) from a while, then in the city (A) again and for the past 10 years we live in the city (E)“ [Note:By the way I am from Greece] The answer always was: “So you are from the city (E), because you lived there the most years of your school life or because your parents now live there etc” And then it was me yelling (not very proper) and saying: “No, I’m not from (E) ”
-“So where are you from?”
-“I don’t know”
Well, this is the problem! That I don’t know. I don’t know where exactly I’m from. I really don’t. I’m not from the cities, where my parents were born, neither from the city where I went to elementary and then to high school. I am from the cities that my beloved relatives live now, I am from the cities, where I spent magical vacations, from the village where every winter I go for snowboarding, from the town on the mountain with this tavern where you can taste an awesome goat soup(ohhh my god, I love this soup when it’s cold outside). And consequently I will be from all these regions I will travel in the future, from all the cities I will love. I am from all these sites, from where my memories are. My memories exactly, that’s the right answer to me to the hated question “where are you from?” That was a thing that a 6year old girl couldn’t explain with words of course.
But now I can and for this Christmas, -best day of the year, or what?- i dream of making such memories that are so worth living in them, like they are really my home.
So I dream of a home more magically decorated than this:
This kiss that I am dreaming of -quite a long time- while it’s snowing:
Reading my books, in my house by the fireplace, bare legs, wooden hot floor, or aim to find the right book in the sweet chaos of a library, or just read alone with hot tea in a cozy café.
This –almost blue- morning light when outside everything is covered with snow:
A new friend:
Feel free like this:
The unbelievable, unbearable joy of christmas:
This special moment, that you don’t feel of sharing with somebody:
All this wilderness I die for, breathing, feeling, living in: