Because I can’t imagine a better story to go with the fairy tale, fairtrade coffee shop up in Richmond, the Hollyhock Cafe other than Landscape painted with tea.
It’s been ten years since I found Pavic’s poetic novels but I got the Landscape almost a year ago and just like with something too precious to touch, I’ve been hiding it between other lovely books that sleep and dream about being read.
I started reading it on the train to Richmond and realised how overwhelming it is, how full of poetry. This is not an easy read, it takes time to sink in and travel through your head to toes.
“Words grow on you like hair” (p.17)
I wish they grew on me like hair, it would all be so easy. So easy to write the letter I’m too scared to write, because at the end of it, when it’s all signed and folded, that will be it. It will make me silent, but certainly not quiet.
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Sometimes, at the end of a relationship, we desperately try to readjust to the reality of being single. The evenings that used to be spent with someone who would be there not just for the cuddles, but more like an extension of yourself – suddenly become evenings of a lot of time and space – and that extension of yours does no longer protect you. Instead, you have to learn to hug yourself to sleep.
My recent experience got my friends saying “yes! lets make u a dating profile!” And I was like “Hell no!”
I’m sure everyone has different ways of dealing with it. My way is spending every day a little time in coffee shops (and wherever the bus or tube will take me). And I recently discovered this amazing place called All you read is Love
– they have a wonderful selection of books and coffees (and that, for me, is salvation).
So I started to date books. I’m not going to fall in love with them (or am I?) but we’re going to chat over a drink.
My first date is with Zadie Smith, On Beauty
, in All you read is Love and we’re having a chai latte. I shuffle through its tiny pages and read a few, it’s kinda turning me on but I can’t help feeling a little bit angry (and guilty) because I miss my Swing time
so much! Thing is, I left the book at my sister’s a month ago and she still hasn’t sent it back. So it’s there, half read, half naked.
Also looking for the best X-rays of dreams in all formats, color and black-and-white. Successfully photographed memories, to be considered for airing on TV networks, paid extra. (Milorad Pavic, Landscape painted with tea)
no one said anything, it was just a step dance underground; and as we flew towards the day, our shadows were fading.
there was coffee all over the floor, broken glass, broken china and I was all scratched.
Some fingers were pointing at my dirty-smelly-coffee stained-dress and I knew that there was dust all over me and I had a red face.
Grab it with your hands said the sand therapist
then write your poems with your toes at the sea side and hope for the best. You have yet to finish all those books you started to read years ago and give those voices to the characters you’ve been thinking about in your dreams
I wish I could use my camera when dreaming, I’m sure I would remember everything easier.
coffee has a different name every morning today I’m gonna call it butter&jam and who knows tomorrow / christmas cards pagan cookies the winter solstice. sun standing still for the shortest day of the year, standing still at the end of the 29th year on earth this Tuesday and then.
coffee will take another name on Wednes-day of woden, day of Mercury.