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║today my way║

thoughts on things, writing, todaymyway.com

It is emotionally useful this free time I can load up with both of my hands day in day out is spent on most vivid imagery. On things I wouldn't dream of contemplating. In peaceful or totally opposite surroundings I win the impossible and call my day entirely mine in activities I spend time on, food I sample, books I happen to bring along with me. Total bliss with a company as an option. If you strapped me to an office chair and promised to come back before five in the afternoon, my sanity would never be restored. I would toss and turn, ignore the phone calls and daily duties knowing I could dare doing things no 9 to 5 job will ever offer under any circumstances.

So here I am sitting politely on the leather couch hugged by the clan of cushions behaving like children waiting for the story to begin, lifting my head up towards the rays of sun emerging from short rainpour clouds and drawing unimaginable shapes on the cracks of wooden tables. My favourite part of the day - retreating back to my notes and a glass of water after I've had a delicious burger in a place teeming with noise while being seduced by the sound of a coffee machine working its gears off. People take turns in laughing and clattering dishes, I'm on my fifth page scribbled in barely recognizable handwriting and the life goes on like sweet melting toffee (I'm actually considering ordering a mug of flavoured coffee drink so excuse my food comparisons). It's been a while since I tackled this blogging challenge commenced back in days when time was spent alongside running toddler - to answer 30 questions as reliably and promptly as a blogger can and call it a day. Easy task became a little too difficult to accomplish, some thoughts wouldn't flow so well as my audience would expect so I backed out. This time I'm eager to tell you what I'm looking forward to right now. And I could immediately answer that it would be nice to wake up to a summer sun for a change or a couple of new season's deliveries of clothes and sandals in imitation leather but in fact I'm totally looking forward to this and do hold me accountable: I just want to start. Place my fingers on the wheel of life and let it lead me precisely onwards. And as realistic as it sounds it's completely crazy in every way things naturally happen. People win the lottery and find the love of their lives queuing in a job center so I'm inclined to say - things do happen. I'll tell you, hold me accountable.

P.S. You do know I'm insanely looking forward to summer in Poland in case this post leaves you concerned.

(And I want to decorate my house.)
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TOUGH JOB BEING INSPIRED, CONSISTENT AND HAVE FUN TOO
TOUGH JOB BEING INSPIRED, CONSISTENT AND HAVE FUN TOO

TOUGH JOB BEING INSPIRED, CONSISTENT AND HAVE FUN TOO


















This is what I'm studying: second photo next to the cup smudged in cheap lipstick and leftovers of disturbingly delicious slice of lemon and polenta cake. I ate it for the first time and wouldn't recommend any other dose of sugar especially whilst making those brain cells earning their glucose supply. No, I'm not joining the world of neurology neither pediatrics and most probably not the chiropody department. You'd have a good laugh at me taking care of your bunions so I spare you the questionable fun. I'm studying human brain for my work diploma as well as taking notes for those 90,000 words needed to make sense in attempt to get accepted, revised and eventually published. So it's more of a killing two birds with one lemon cake. While my work assignment requires basic knowledge of different brain functions, novel that has been shaping up humbly under the moody sky focuses on more than material in the book covers. Heavy stuff balanced with soft inside of chewy polenta bits. 

I found this quiet bookshop and café in one on recent stroll to significant sale departments (floods or not, a girl is lost without fashion opportunities on her budget), forgotten all about it then got giddy with excitement to actually pronounce it a more fascinating part of my work and simply wasn't able to locate it with or without my smart device. Sad afternoon it was and wedged footwear a bad option but persistence rewarded fresh blisters with a note on the entrance door that the bookshop would be closed today as if it was a normal decision in a world of hospitality and retail. I don't remember if I made loud comment or just waddled away, next time fully educated with closing and opening times I was the fourth customer to the service. Rows upon rows of shelves of pre-owned pages, vinyl records in boxes on freshly swept rug, trinkets from thrift stores at less than a fiver playing make believe with the layout of the furniture, wooden tables with four chairs each were my writing environment. I could spend full noons here, doused in coffee maker's occasional noise and lustrous reflection in vintage oversized mirrors peeking at the drafts from sides. I let my controversial story shape up distracted by strong drink and sweet flavour. I never really opened up about the plot, never really steered conversations through chapters that eat up most of my colouring, counting and spelling hours. So will not tell before it's made into print (even as every occasion's desperate gift to family, friends and everyone on my Facebook list) however setting the mood in advance can still happen. It is controversial, what do you expect from concise human body supportive material? Thrilling, tearjerker, anything can happen if reliable source meets my imagination. Her name is Gemma and will not settle for less than her body is capable of. She could've been in much advanced stage, in yummier shape but I love going back to what I've scribbled so far I'm afraid your pennies are safe for at least one planet cycle. Constant editing is not a good companion for successful ending. Americano can help, late opening times contribute. This is what I'm studying at every opportunity. Sometimes I open blogger draft in microscopic mode of my phone here to tell you about our daily musings in soft English accent, some days I just sip caffeine without care in the near neighbourhood. Can't tell how long until another chapter, bear with me and my lipstick application technique. Until next time, noisy americano maker.
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TIME TO PUT A HEART AND SOUL INTO IT















































Honey oak chest of drawers holds embarrassing amount of framed photographs of her posing in the dust of Sahara, riding a horse, next to the plane propeller, wearing trousers and smiling with confidence. A continuation of a promise made years ago now carefully dusted, lovingly arranged and carried everywhere she went. Studying their negatives today wouldn’t have brought much amusement if it didn’t occur to me that she was just one of those people who figured life’s a gift and didn’t intend on wasting it but making each day count. Draw limitations and you’ll bound your life to them; have an open mind, be brave and you’ll always find a way to achieve. “Promise me you’ll survive. That you won’t give up, no matter what happens, no matter how hopeless. Promise me now, Rose, and never let go of that promise.” “I promise.” “Never let go.” “I’ll never let go, Jack. I’ll never let go.”   

You know what movie this quote is taken from, don't you? Thoughts on things that escaped my attention this year are starting to line up... Me in 10, 20 years time... How will I look like, what my life will be like? Will it be worth the wait, excitement? 2014 is upon us and my resolution list has never been so overstuffed and well... untouched. I envy people whose parents were consistent, motivated and encouraging. Mine were none of these things and raised me to become none of these things either (although I owe them a world). You are what you were taught to be, think a certain way is a myth I no longer believe. Neither I believe in destiny, fate, God. On the contrary, I’ve gained a strong belief in me creating one and only life. If there were things I needed to accomplish and I’ve done nothing to it, the only one to blame was me. Not bad luck or my parents. Creation is natural, stagnation is not. 

A few years ago I have come up with an idea for a novel and until I don’t get the story out of my head, I’m not a real writer, am I? I'm into writing because this is what I do best and enjoy my company above all else while in the shelter of hours elapsing in silence, I hide behind words like actors dissemble behind their characters and singers use music to camouflage the truth. For many writing is a therapy - well known personalities are bestowed upon their fictional characters. Sometimes to be read equals to be heard, you’re not anonymous anymore. Unless you are a very stable writing being, you’re only comfortable describing the surroundings you know, you’ve experienced or in this or other way they have bothered you for long enough to end up in ink. I wasn’t immediately sure if the novel I’m scribbling in between folding laundry and stretching tendons in poses I rarely allow in bedroom (I mean doing yoga) was a way of escaping my troubles. The story is way too complicated... yet mirrors most of the exclamation marks in my head. We should be doing what we love unless of course silly daily missions keep us anchored unecstatically to the desk, sink, anywhere momentarily not amusing. I'm really keen on allocating those long evenings for first chapters. Thank you for coming, inspiration. x
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I'm Eli, an optimist in training collecting an awful lot of ballet pumps and spending too much time admiring the sea. You'll find me writing about the joys of parenting, fashion, simple pleasures that all together create a beautiful life. xx

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