coffee no. 88

The big shopping centre in my city is the place where a lot of people meet for dates. I think it is the weirdest idea in the world to sit in the middle of this whole chaos and eat melting ice cream from the one cup. Some couples apparently like this, considering those cafes as stylish and fashionable. No matter.
In front of the building, near the entrance, one can always see a few men, waiting for their women with flowers (yes, one-single-red-rose, of course). In this place there is also a bin where from time to time some of those flowers end up. I do not know why but stood up amants hardly ever put the roses upside down (what, in my opinion, could be more logical). This way the bin look like a big public vase -- the grotesque symbol of unrequited love.

Such a view always breaks my heart.

coffee no. 87

You meet somebody you loved years ago and after a while you realise that their scent hasn't changed for that time. It is fantastic, even if you do not love them any more.

coffee no. 86

While jogging this morning I notice the vivid orange garbage truck, standing at the traffic lights. Inside there are two young men wearing uniforms in the same color as their car. Under the windscreen, on the hood, there is a big inscription: BROTHERS FEAR.

coffee no. 85

All I know about this girl is only her name - Mary.She was a bit strange and looked like children from the beginning of the last century. What I liked the most about her was the rubber parrot she was wearing on the string on her neck.

coffee no. 84

The other day in a cafe I heard a beautiful soundtrack from THE SHIPPING NEWS by Lasse Hallstrom. At once I remembered the one scene, that remained in my memory, although I've seen that film some time ago. I am thinking about the moment when people are hauling the house on frozen river. That scene, as far as I remember, lasts only a couple of seconds in the film, but I was really delighted while watching it.
Today I found out that it was inspired by David Blackwood HAULING JOB STURGE'S HOUSE etching.
Great idea, to haul your house everywhere you move...

And probably most of us do this. Unconsciously.

coffee no. 83

I used to teach a group of seven year old children who were very vivid and cheerful. Only one girl was always silent, withdrawn and lonely. I called her behaviour an "Eeyore syndrome", because she was always unhappy and pessimistic. While the other children were most of the time "fine", she was "not very well". The reasons of that saddness were utterly silly (for adults, of course). For her it was a real disaster when she was two minutes late for the lesson, when her braid had unplaited or something like this. It was very difficult to make her laugh or play. She was sitting at the table, but I knew that her thoughts were far away from the classroom. I did not want to bother her, because, surprisingly, she learned a lot, even when it looked like she was not attentive at all.
One day Eeyore Girl came up to me in the middle of the lesson. It was the first time she had ever approached.
'You know, some time ago I had intestinal flu', she said in whisper.
And after some seconds I realized that she decided to entrust me with maybe one of her biggest secrets.

coffee no. 82

"One can wait a whole lifetime for a moment like this. The woman whom you never hoped to meet now sits before you, and she talks and looks exactly like the person you dreamed about. But strangest of all is that you never realized before that you had dreamed about her".

Henry Miller "Tropic of Capricorn"

coffee no. 81

Years ago I watched a documentary about spies and men a la James Bond. The one scene was so impressive that I still remember it, unfortunately not as precisely as I would like to.
There was a big, long storage, or something like this, with great amount of shelves. On each shelf there were lots of jars -- it looked like a pantry full of jams, stewed fruit, etc. The jars however were filled with pieces of brown cloth... It was said that that way the scents of various people were stored and such smell (in sterile conditions) could last even 20 to 30 years.
Sometimes I think that it would be really wonderful to own such a collection of the most beloved scents in my world. The scents of men I loved, friends, places... -- by and large all the important memories. When I was feeling like "smell" some memories, I would open one or another jar and breath the aroma in, closing my eyes.

I have got two tiny bottles of perfume that are really precious for me. The first one which I was given many years ago had been brought from Tunisia. Inside a very decorative bottle there is a wonderfully smelling oil, prepared especially for me. The fragrance is unique and very exotic.
The second one I was given around a year ago. This perfume is based on a 16th century pot pourri and it's simply gorgeous. I smell it almost every day, but used only once. If I found it, I would buy the big bottle of it and would never dispense with.
These two aromas are kind of "magic potion" for me. Hard to find but giving the big power.

coffee no. 80

On the photolaboratory's display I pass by very often has appeared a new element. It's an exceptional situation, because, as I wrote in last post, on that display nothing has changed for years. This "new element" is the advertisement announcing that the owners offer the new service -- the photos printed on china to be placed on graves. There would not be anything special in it but for the example of such an oval portrait. We can see in it the really awesome woman, undoubtedly a model. The people who prepared this peculiar ad probably opened "Vogue" or "Elle", picked out the prettiest face, cut it out and made this "grave photo" from.
Moreover, I don't think it was a joke -- these people must have really believed that the more (literally) beautiful example of their service, the more customers will be interested.

coffee no. 79

I like photolaboratories' displays and any time I pass them, I stop in order to look at the photos the owners want to show the walkins. No matter which country I am, these photos are always feeble, faded and utterly kitschy. Newlyweds standing against "sunset" background, or next to the plaster column; frightened children surrounded by old awful toys, young women in pensive poses (always with tilted head)... The kingdom of artificiality.
Most of these photos have hung in the windows for years -- for this time the women have been married to the men whom they were sending those melancholy portraits, the newlyweds maybe got divorced and the children threw away all their toys long time ago.

coffee no. 78

There is a Polish song by Kasia Nosowska which begins with words: "I'm sure you know these mornings when all that you see becomes the promise of a miracle".
This sentence means a lot for me, makes me smile, makes me cry, makes me think. Whatever.