Magic is Real (or: I like wine)

Big Fish, Prince of Mist, The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake, The Shadow of the Wind are amongst my all time favorite reads.

The feel of the extraordinary captured within the frames of reality (or sometimes just outside its boundaries) is what I often try to achieve in my writing.

When brainstorming these stories or wondering about one of its characters  I’m in a particular mood. A mood wherein magic is more real, more tangible. If I was to describe this mood (and obviously I’m going to because I would be a pretty lousy writer if I didn’t try)

I would describe this like:

Having two glasses of wine on an empty stomach,  being happy on a superficial level and wondering what would happen if #insert-idea-that-could-be-real-if-a-little-magic-sipped-through-from-another-dimension

(what if: you could sell your dreams but the cost is nightmares/ your father is the sea/you can control insects/there’s a ghost living in the garden shed/the statue on the town square cries every evening at eleven).

 

Maybe I drink too much (wine: preferably temperanillo/rioja or a really cold  pinot grigio when the sun is shining).

🙂

When I think of Summer

Once upon a time, in a practically underwater country, not so very far away, a person named Irene was feeling rather bored.

And wrote a blog post about Summer, because Summer is cool.

*

June’s already halfway gone! How did that happen so fast??

The good thing is that it’s almost July and July means GOOD THINGS.

In case you’re wondering what these good things are, behold a list!

  • Summer (for details of my thoughts on things to do in Summer, see below)
  • Summer vacation part 1: Bretagne
  • (a ten day break at a wonderful piece of coast in France with four happy kids and one very handsome man, starting July 31st ).
  • Campnano is coming again!
  • (in which I intend to work on my writing goals like there is no tomorrow (Ha! As you may know I find “tomorrow “ an elusive concept).

These are some of the things that come to mind when I think of summer:

get a tan/eat a coconut/have weekly BBQ’s/swimming&beach/read books/drink champagne/have picknicks in the park/ go to a festival of sorts/ attend a wedding/buy a bikini/write an entry for a YA contest/edit Draft that Must not be Named until it’s worthy of a name/ dabble in contemporary YA because the idea won’t go away/ finally make that Polaroid branch I was supposed to make in May/make my own icecreams/figure out how to make Mango juice.

Ahh Mango Juice.

And she lived happily ever after.

(Back to work).

 

 

Let it Go

The last couple of months I’ve gotten very good at holding on tight.

Anger is one of the things I’ve been keeping close lately. After some serious soul searching I realised I’ve picked up the strange conviction that holding Anger close  (yes capital A) is good for warding off enemies. The enemies being: Disappointment. Hurt. Sadness. And Shame.

Other emotions I seem to be able to let go pretty easily. Pride is felt for just a second, Happy and Joy can linger for days, but will inevitably be pushed off by Anger, because Anger has guard duty. Needless to say, this is getting tiresome. I’m not a negative person, on the contrary.

I do however have a problem with boundaries. I usually have no clue where they are.

One of the reasons for this is that, at heart, I’m somewhat naïve. I don’t tend to be suspicious of other people’s motives. So when someone crosses my boundaries and is stampeding through my personal space, my first thought is that he/she doesn’t know or doesn’t mean what they’re saying or doing. Or worse: I think it is my fault. So insecurity is also playing a role in this. After he/she is gone and I look at the ravage that’s left behind, I set my boundaries closer to home, where I can see them. And I appoint a guard.

Hello Anger.

The Anger guard is a very expensive one, it costs tons of energy. And to be honest I miss my naïve self. I like not worrying about other people’s motives. I have my hands full worrying about my own and how to be true to them. Anger has a function, it shows me I have boundaries and I should protect them. But I’m not protecting myself hiding behind Anger, by building walls around my vulnerable core.

So here I am, at my computer typing this post. And drawing a line in the sand in my personal space for my old friend. Anger is a veteran, he knows this battle is over, but there will be another, and another. For now he can enjoy some time off, admire the coastline, see me rebuild myself, touching around and feeling where my boundaries are and if they’re where I want them to be.

Emotions are useful, they protect us, show us what our values are. But when we’ve felt them, and know why they’ve popped up, we should release them.

Let them go and there will be room for all of them. Hold tight and the one in your grasp will make you forget the others.

They’re what we feel. Not who we are.