Isola del Giglio

The sea as the symbol of serenity, depth, change, freshness.
 The girl / the woman, each facing her own direction.
 Wet hair + mask Vs. hair in a bun. Expeditions Vs. safety
 Photo: MM / Isola del Giglio

In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “Symbol.”

WPC: The Doors are for afterwards

… when your mind is already gone, said a critic. I must say that I love both The Doors as in the band, and taking photos of various doors, especially here in Italy.

Every Thursday I post a few for Norm Frampton’s Thursday Doors challenge (here are all my entries and the featured photo is from one of them) but I liked posting doors (and windows) even before I’d learnt of it.

And before having this blog, I assembled so many Pinterest doors that I had to put them onto a dedicated board, together with arches, windows and stairs (none of these are my photos).

I embrace this opportunity to post all my recently taken doors photos for this week’s WPC so that I’ll take new ones even more gladly.

And since it’s today that Jim Morrison died in Paris 44 years ago, I will sprinkle my favourite Morrison lyrics abundantly around like you wouldn’t believe. You did ask for it. 🙂

Words dissemble
Words be quick
Words resemble walking sticks

Plant them
They will grow
Watch them waver so

I’ll always be
a word-man
Better than a birdman

Roma

I see you live on Love Street
There’s this store where the creatures meet
I wonder what they do in there
Summer Sunday and a year
I guess I like it fine, so far

Bomarzo, Monster Park, the Leaning House

We’re perched headlong on the edge of boredom
We’re reaching for death on the end of a candle
We’re trying for something
That’s already found us

Give us a creed
To believe
A night of Lust
Give us trust in
The Night

Montalto di Castro

The music and voices are all around us
Choose they croon the Ancient Ones
The time has come again
Choose now, they croon beneath the moon
Beside an ancient lake
Enter again the sweet forest
Enter the hot dream come with us
Everything is broken up and dances

Montalto di Castro

Wow, I’m sick of doubt
Live in the light of certain
South
I’m sick of dour faces
Staring at me from the T.V.
Tower. I want roses in
my garden bower; dig?
Royal babies, rubies
must now replace aborted
Strangers in the mud

Montalto di Castro

Morning found us calmly unaware
Noon burn gold into our hair
At night, we swim the laughing sea
When summer’s gone
Where will we be

Isola del Giglio

I love the friends I have gathered together on this thin raft

I will not go
Prefer a Feast of Friends
To the Giant family

Photo: MM
Lyrics: Jim Morrison / The Doors

In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “Door.”

Never mind mind, essence is not essential, and matter does not matter.

—Nelson Goodman

Backs of Isola del Giglio. Photo: MM

The second quote in this three-day challenge is from my scrapbook which I’ve kept since starting high school. It proves to me that my tastes haven’t really changed so much during all this time. I’ve always loved word play and absurdities and language. Except that this quote is not really absurd, of course. The best never are.

Thursday doors, June 11

First let’s take four from Isola del Giglio.

And here there are four in one. And these two are heading towards each other. We should tell them.

Then let’s take three from Roma.

Add a few single ones.

And after that we can return home.

Photo: MM

For Norm Frampton’s Thursday Doors challenge.

No vivid filters were harmed in the making of these images.

Prague

Montalto di Castro

Ferry to Isola del Giglio

I dived in! Isola del Giglio

Roma garden

Trilateral tarok tournament in Tournament Street in Ljubljana, flags, from left: of Slovenia, Ljubljana city, Italia.

Capalbio sunset

Winter at home

Photo: MM

In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “Vivid.”

Who sings thinks no evil

Since it’s Azra, this must be Trpanj. They go together so well. And yet, only the latitude matches.
“Who is singing over there” by Azra / Azra: Tko to tamo pjeva 

Translated by Manja Maksimovič

where do we go from here
compatriot
crowned heads stick out from the sand
where do we go from here
compatriot
crowned heads stick out from the sand
what are they doing?
farting into dust

kamo dalje
rođače
iz pijeska vire krunisane glave
kamo dalje
rođače
iz pijeska vire krunisane glave
što to rade
prde u prašinu

i have a feeling
compatriot
that standard has turned the people sour
they eat shit and daydream

čini mi se
rođače
da je standard pokvario ljude
jedu govna i sanjare

it will improve
compatriot
take off the medals and fill up the halls
the trophy street has run out of steam

bit će bolje
rođače
skini medalje i napuni sale
ulici trofeja ponestaje snage

abandoned girls
junkies and harlots
count on you

ostavljene djevojke
narkomani i bludnice
uzdaju se u tebe

Not my Balkan.

armoured boats
were taking you to all four sides
you were truly consistent

blindirani brodovi
vozili te na četiri strane
zbilja si bio dosljedan

and so generous
compatriot:
managing other people’s pain
is no small fucking feat

i velikodušan
rođače
raspolagati tuđom mukom
nije mala zajebancija

it will improve
compatriot
take off the medals and fill up the halls
the trophy street has run out of steam

bit će bolje
rođače
skini medalje i napuni sale
ulici trofeja ponestaje snage

abandoned girls
junkies and harlots
count on you

ostavljene djevojke
narkomani i bludnice
uzdaju se u tebe

Not my monkeys. Isola del Giglio. Photo: MM

The man in the window

What was your life’s turning point? I was asked.

It was not the moment when I said Yes to your invitation to visit.

It was not the moment when I first saw you, or the first hug, the first kiss.

It was not the first night we spent together or the first morning we woke up next to each other.

Neither the first breakfast, coffee, gelato.

We spent 13 days together. I brought 13 presents for you, one for each day. They included four books, the pot to make my style coffee and the coffee itself, pumpkin seed oil, my playing cards. Something tells me it was either premonition or predetermination. 😀

We didn’t discuss things, about what will happen later. We were too busy having fun, holding hands, kissing. You took me to have dinner at your father’s on day 3. And let me drive your car in Roma on day 5. Practically all I needed to know.

We bought my first glasses – no more striving to read things from afar.

And then those days were over, and I had to return home.

When I boarded the train, you went with me to help me settle. And it was then, when I saw you on the platform, that I knew. My life will never be the same again.

You were crying. And I was crying, all the way to Bologna. And later you told me that the Termini railway station chose to play this song at that moment. And there was nothing we could do.

Taking my protein pills ever since.

≈ Manja Maksimovič ≈

Photo: MM