What are you digging?
I landed softly in Florence for once. Normally, one bounces down on the tangled winds that roll around awkwardly above the cauldron of Florence. Nowadays I don't care about the heavy turbulence, but the first few landings I held on tight to the seat in front. Maybe it was still a little bouncy today because the man next to me hugged the back of the chair in front.
I dozed off after a too early morning rise and just felt happy to be back home in Italy soon.
For the first time, our flight was met by a drug dog. I watched him struggle with not caring about the MALTE/ZOE/ALVA scent on my pants. Like I miss them already. I would have liked to fall on my knees and hug this drug lord, but grave-serious uncle the policeman would not have liked it, I could see that in his eyes.
I have been working so extremely hard and a lot these past weeks (months).
There has been no opportunity for a longer break - so before I steer the pack towards the factories I had decided to make an excursion to a place where my shoulders automatically sink. In the province of Pisa are some fantastic villages like a string of pearls; Terricciola, Soiana and Lajatico. They have one thing in common and that is the fantastic view towards the Tuscan landscape of hills and villages along the ridge. I parked my little blue fiat cinque cento in them all, strolled through the old parts of the village and enjoyed the Italian scents that arise in the spring before the high season and the heat. I finished with Lajatico, Boticelli's hometown. Here is the well-known Teatro Silenzio, where all the world's famous opera singers come in the summer and perform. The whole old historical part of the village is like a big art exhibition. Garage doors, cabinets, benches, pillars, gardens, house facades, everything is adorned with color, sculpture, creativity and photography. I love, LOVE to walk around and discover new things every time. I have lunch in the middle of the village on the piazza at a restaurant run by three sisters. Then I kept Auntie Caramel company in the sun outside - a quiet community for a while - life had to flow by. A father was chased by his ice cream-hungry children. A dove fluttered up from one of the sculptures. The three sisters came out and took a break with a cigarette each. Life in a small village in Tuscany before the tourist invasion. And as we enjoyed, the caramel aunt and I. This is exactly how - anytime - anywhere - the inspiration for colors, models and the feeling of our Reunion dresses comes. Life is woven into the fabrics. The colors come from an ice cream, a tomato salad, a kiss in the warm spring winds with the green hills in the background.
As I wandered around in search of new adventures in this favorite village, I sneaked a peek into the gardens that, like little peepholes, loomed behind a broken gate or a sparse fence. And my thoughts landed on the Klosterträdgården in Emma Hamberg's books about Agneta; je m´apelle Agneta and au revoir Agneta. Two absolute favorite books that make me pack my mental bag and shift my thoughts every night as I eagerly turn the pages. She describes a mental garden where you go when you need to plant something beautiful; a memory, a kiss, a love, a forbidden moment with someone that kind of just happened... And sometimes you need to bury something that absolutely must not be seen in the light of day, or something that you never want to experience again.
I love the idea of a mental garden. I have buried and buried the last two sad years of divorce. And as the pain slowly subsided, I finally got to experience events that I lovingly planted in my mental garden - and allowed to thrive, bloom and harvest. It's a nice thought to control your options – either you dig down and bury or you plant and tend. My brain feels so good from the symbolism and it is also the power I plant in my nice Reunion garden. So much love that is planted, watered, reworked and harvested there. This year's harvest will be the most beautiful ever - I am stronger, happier and happier than in many, many years. It should be woven into the beautiful linen dresses. It should be baked into the ice cream cones and it should be spun into the delicious bisques.
What are you planting in your mental garden? What are you digging?
Love m.