Mittwoch, 18. Februar 2015

At the old attic...




I made some pictures from winter jasmine with the help of a macro lens. When I saw the pictures, the withered dry flowers remembered me on old yellowed crumpled skirts of ballerinas.
This inspired my imagination and so I wrote a short story.


Silence surrounds her
broken by the creaking
of the steps.
Carefully put the feet.
Difficulty.
Slowly her eyes adjust
to the dim light
at the old attic.
Hanging there in the corner
the yellowed tulle dress.
She reaches for it
feels the fabric
and again she is surrounded
of the music.
The long years trained steps
a jump
and be held and lifted
at the same moment
and fall ...
When she wakes up, it's dark
around her
and she is on the boards
but it is not the stage
and laboriously she fumbles
to the fallen
crutches

Re-bloggt from an old post for Wednesday Wit and Wisdom and Monday WRites

Kommentare:

  1. Oh Mascha, your story~poem is utterly beautiful. Honestly, it sent a shiver down my spine.
    Not only is it so in itself, but the way you took inspiration from the dried out flowers and ran with it.
    You have special 'eyes' for seeing things in a way I really like, admire and resonate with.
    Imagination ~ that is one of the keys, to a rich inner life, ably demonstrated here!
    My whole identity was with ballet when I was about 14~ 16, I was given the encouragement go ahead to train professionally at that age by my ballet master, but my parents were reluctant as I was starting GCSE studdies + exams.
    So it gradually faded...just like your little dancer's vision. Perhaps that is why this has touched me so...

    Thank you for sharing this gorgeous post. I'm going to bookmark it!
    x

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    1. Oh yes, that was with me just when I was 14-16 ... - here in this story, of course I am too:
      http://maschas-buch.blogspot.de/2015/01/the-house-of-jevgenya.html
      But then my parents just sent me to learn a job (to date unloved because I was too clumsy in fine motor skills) to another town and I had to stop training:-(
      I love ballet until today and it has also helped me a lot in my life, this workout to keep going until the curtain falls -

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    2. Oh yes, I agree ~ dance your joy and dance through your pain = ballet.
      Blessings to you.

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  2. that's the impression i got on first seeing them also; and your poem is awesome
    Thank you for linking up to Monday WRites

    much love...

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  3. Mascha, thanks for joining in with your story and picture. This is really awesome.

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  4. I too see the beauty and how the flow of words come to mind through your captures. I really enjoyed your story through your eyes!

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  5. I liked your story. Sadly, too often we awake to find our dreams have not come true.

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  6. So sad. I'm almost at the age where I will be looking back and remembering things I can no longer do. Getting old is not for wimps.

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