You’d think decades are long enough to forget or heal, but time is ruthless, both in a second and in eternity.
There’s been a lot of pain but I have finally understood that there’ll never be more hurt than love.
Time hardly moved then, but flows rapidly now, the last grains of sand in the hourglass rushing to catch their own tail.
Past and present reunited in our hearts, your laughter still lingering in my ear like a harmony between the two.
Now I see, there are no more stars, but cracks in Heaven, letting your love shine on me.
———————————————————-Dedicated to my Father, Ioan Galasiu, who went to Heaven 32 years ago ❤️❤️❤️
100 words, Memyselfandela- Adela Clancy-Galasiu, 22 December 2021
Many have posted a tribute to HRH Prince Phillip The Duke of Edinburgh and many would not think much of my words, but I must say that he was truly an extraordinary human being.
Not sure what was the most touching detail for me, but there were many. That he founded the WWF – which I never knew. That he had a vision of saving the wildlife long before anyone else became awaye of it. That he remained the same Navy man till the end, despite of being Consort to The Queen. I’m amazed at how humble he was about his huge charity work, touching mostly young people. He refused a big state funeral – which he would have deserved. He has chosen – despite all his possibilities – to have a Land-Rover for a hearse, telling us all that he remembers the WW2 times and that he was British in his heart. I had a knot in my throat when I’ve seen how he thought of sugar lumps for his ponies and the Russian Kontakion of the Departed at the end of his funeral service, to remind us all that he was born a Christian Orthodox after all and he was truly Royalty himself in his own right (not losing his identity by marrying into the British royal family).
I know many people don’t belive in monarchy, but how could you not bow in respect in front of such dedication? Have you seen many politicians care as much or try to use their resources for good causes like this? What a legacy!
The world needs more people with a great sense of duty, strength and humble kindness. God rest his soul in peace, he has used his nearly 100 years wisely!❤️
Memyselfandela, Adela Clancy-Galasiu, April 2021(more…)
It may sound like a cliche that one should live life as if every day was the last one, but I think we all go through life wasting time, money, wisdom and mostly lots of possibilities to learn and enjoy who we are and what we do. We often forget to be grateful for what was given to us and choose to see what we don’t have, and so life goes by in stress, bitterness, sadness or denial.
I used to deeply mourn the passing of my father and for many years I remembered the pain, loss and anxiety related to that particular moment in time. Each one of us has experienced concentrating on the wrong things I guess, it’s part of the journey. But the other part for me was understanding that a life is not measured in its loss, but in its love and the way it has touched others. It’s not measured in tombstones but in the memories. How we touch others has nothing to do with the length of our physical existence. Nobody disappears, we are all part of the same fabric of time and universe as we know it and as we cannot even fathom it.
I used to feel so sad on this day but in recent years my heart is filled with a very serene peace. This morning the sun woke me up with a surreal shine and I have genuinely felt my father is here, with me, always. I am grateful for his life and love and he is with me in my heart, in my blood, in my soul and in the memories.
Have you lost a beloved one? No, you have not really lost them. Their life is a gift and blessing, rejoice in knowing they are with you, always!
For my dear father Ioan Galasiu with love.
300 words and photos Adela Galasiu, December 22nd 2018
There are signs of life from the other side of the rainbow – your soul shining across to me.
I’m no longer sad for your departure, I have learned you have never left.
You bloom in every rose, you smile in every sunshine, we breathe the same air.
I celebrate your life and love as I celebrate all others and the entire eternity.
63 words, poem and photos/ and roses grown by -Adela Galasiu / memyselfandela June 2018
Dedicated to my father Ioan, for his birthday, 24.06.1949. Happy birthday dad, the roses bloom for you!
Death and life are a circle
None starts, none ends
They just continue one another.
Hope raises from pain
Growing out of darkness
Like a flower blooming.
Nobody and nothing gets lost
We are all One. We grow, we transform,
All breathing atoms of the same universe.
My hand holding yours
Through relative time and space:
Once I loved you, I’ll love you forever.
63 words, Me, Myself and Ela- Adela Galasiu, 22nd of December 2020, photo Adela Galasiu
Dedicated to my father, Ioan, who went to God 31 years ago, and to all the people I love, have loved and I’ll ever love. We are all One.
Motto: “If you’re going to try, go all the way. Otherwise, don’t even start…
It’s the only good fight there is.” Charles Bukowski
Today is a gift. I am grateful to be here, feeling alive. I breathe in. I listen to a ring-dove singing in the tree next to me. I take in the air, the light, the smell of yesterday’s rain. Bumblebees come out sleepy trying to make up for the food they could not collect yesterday, hovering over lavender bushes and peppermint flowers that wave gently in the breeze. God smiles over us. The sun shines through the branches of the chestnut tree, my flowers bloom in the garden, their colours vibrating live a song in my eyes. Maybe they are, just like me, a part of God’s dream. Or maybe they are just a form of different frequency than the one of my soul. Maybe they are just strings that God plays with , like one plays a harp. It all makes sense, even though often my mind cannot even grasp the beauty of it all.
I drink a glass of water and contemplate life, like I do every once in a while, like we probably all do. Some people think that knowing that time is precious can make you lead a better life. What would I tell you if this would be my last day?
I’d say I’ve lost many things in this life, and sometimes it has felt like I’ve lost it all. Friends, time, love, children, relatives, sometimes even my mind. I’ve eaten too much or nothing for days. I’ve eaten my own bitterness and I drank the poison of my own ink-black thoughts. I’ve been freezing in train stations and on park benches thinking of why certain things happened in my life, feeling sorry for myself. I thought I was sometimes carrying too much luggage, but I think that was more the burden of my own life. Yet I have found out later that many of those things I’ve never really had, that they were never meant for me.
I have seen derision. And it was not the one coming from strangers that has hurt the most, but the one seen in the eyes of people I have helped out of their own ditch and considered friends. They say in my language that “the ones you don’t let die, will not let you live”. It was painful to find out what character some people really had. it has been gutting at times. Now it does not hurt any more, I have come to terms with all my experience. I have become older and hopefully wiser. I have learned not to regret things and I am mostly good at it, even though I can still catch myself doing it sometimes. I’ve often done my best and I know now that what people give is certainly what people will receive later in life.
Isolation? It is not a monkey thing. It feels sweet. It is not for everybody, I know it can be torture for others. But solitude is my gift. After all the pain induced by many things coming from the outside, my isolation meant discovering myself and finding peace, listening to my own soul tuning in with the one of the universe. And that is bliss.
Rejection? Yes, I felt plenty of that. I was one of those people that can feel like outsiders. Until I realised that I would have never belonged in certain circles of people or in the toxic environment that comes with them. So actually this was not a rejection, it was a discovery. It took me years to see that God had better plans for me , that He was opening me the right doors while I was trying like a stubborn child to open the wrong ones, again and again.
This is my path and you all have your own. Life is a journey. Some people learn from it, others get to the end of it not understanding anything, feeling bitter and angry. It may not be easy to walk on your own path, but it’s your quest. It all depends on how much you want it. And if you want it truly it will be better than anything you have ever imagined. It will equal conquering all your fears, it will mean finding your true self and facing God at the same time. Your days may be hard, but your heart will flame with the fire of all the passion you have in you. It will not be life that breaks you, but it will be you riding your own life.
I am only a tiny soul in an immense ocean of souls. All different, yet all the same. When I think of this I imagine a sky full of stars. The universe is immense, but we all have our own space, our own inner light and our own trajectory. I am trying to grasp what this life experience is all about, maybe just like you all. I’ve seen a lot and I still know almost nothing. But one of the few things I know now is that we should not be afraid, we should not let worry dry out our soul. Life is joy and we should experience the joy of being alive, the experience of our soul having a material body and interacting with others.
There’s no path, make your own. Be bold, be strong, be yourself. Try it, go all the way, it’s the best thing of all.
900 words, memyselandela, August 2015
Photo: Lavender, Adela Galasiu, August 2015
“Yes, It isn’t always wise to say
that the muses get silent among weapons..
My words are here and I hold them
as you would hold a spear.
Mother, forgive me, I couldn’t otherwise.
I know you’ve been quiet all life
and I should have , maybe, done the same
but out of our silence
a scream had to gush oneday
and here it is, filling up my mouth with hope and tears
and with a sunny sadness
that is mine, I’m not sure,
mine or my grave’s. But
this has almost
no more importance at all.”
Octavian Paler, Poems
“Da, nu e întotdeauna o înţelepciune să spui
că muzele tac între arme.
Cuvintele mele sunt aici şi le strâng
ca pe o lance.
Mamă, iartă-mă, nu puteam altfel.
Ştiu, tu ai tăcut toată viaţa
şi ar fi trebuit şi eu să fac, poate, la fel,
dar trebuia odată ca din tăcerea noastră
să ţâşnească un strigăt
şi, iată-l, îmi umple gura de speranţă şi lacrimi
şi de o tristeţe însorită
ce-mi aparţine, nu mai ştiu,
mie sau mormântului meu. Dar
aceasta aproape nu mai are
nicio importanţă. “
Octavian Paler, Poeme
Translation: Adela Galasiu
The soul levitates above the ground
longing dreamy to
move its roots into heaven.
The matter’s consistency
stridently burdens the light
reflected by the heart.
Some say we cannot stop the moment
yet I still believe that we can
trap it within the soul’s walls.
Sufletul leviteaza deasupra pamantului
tanjind visator sa
isi mute radacinile in cer.
ingreuneaza in mod strident lumina
reflectata de inima.
Unii spun ca nu avem posibilitatea sa oprim clipa
si totusi eu inca mai cred ca o putem
tine prinsa intre peretii sufletului.
45 words / 45 de cuvinte, memyselfandela – Adela Galasiu, August, 2015
Photos: Adela Galasiu, Wild Strawberries/ Fragi
I am a bridge over the river,
Towards you, always
Supported by nothing
Only on my soul.
This heartless river
Will smash me into pieces,
I understand my condition,
But you also have to understand it.
I am a bridge over the river,
On my sad pillars,
Towards you always
But you do not exist.
You do not understand that it’s hard for me,
That I’m cold and it is ugly
That I am heavy and fixed
I am a bridge and that is all.
Where I get to go
I am forced to remain
Whether it smells like iron
Whether it smells like hay.
And at once I understand
That I am sad in vain
On my sad pillars
I embrace myself and shiver
You feel what I feel,
More seriously, moreover,
Your permanent crying
I take from you and listen to it.
And I seem to give echo
And resonate in another way,
Stepped over by feet
Like a man, like a bridge.
I am a bridge over the river,
I am a bridge over the walking,
How many winds have written me
How many rains have deleted me.
But you’re not on the shore,
But you’re not with them
But you do not crush me,
You hold me and you drink me.
I am an elevated bridge
Over an uncomfortable river
I am a bridge, you’re a river,
Are you a river, I am a bridge.
Sunt un pod peste rau,
Catre tine mereu,
Pe nimic sprijinit,
Doar pe sufletul meu.
Acest rau nemilos
Ma va sparge-n bucati,
Starea mea o-nteleg,
Dar si tu seama da-ti.
Sunt un pod peste rau,
Pe pilonii mei tristi,
Catre tine mereu,
Insa tu nu existi.
Nu-ntelegi ca mi-e greu,
Ca mi-e frig si urat,
Sunt greoi si sunt fix,
Sunt un pod si atat.
Unde-apuc sa ma duc
Sunt silit sa raman
Ca miroase a fier,
Ca miroase a fan.
Ca sunt trist in zadar,
Pe pilonii mei tristi
Ma cuprind si tresar.
Tu simti tot ce simt eu,
Ba mai grav, ba mai mult,
Plansul tau permanent
Il preiau si il ascult.
Si dau parca ecou
Si vibrez in alt mod,
In picioare calcat
Ca un om, ca un pod.
Sunt un pod peste riu,
Sunt un pod peste mers,
Cate vanturi m-au scris,
Cate ploi m-au tot sters.
Dar tu nu esti pe mal,
Dar tu nu esti cu ei,
Dar tu nu ma strivesti,
Tu ma tii si ma bei.
Sunt un pod ridicat
Peste-un rau incomod,
Sunt un pod, esti un rau,
Esti un rau, sunt un pod.
Adrian Paunescu, Romanian Poet
Translation: Adela Galasiu, 2010
In a far away land there is a city with hundreds of wise houses. Each house has a roof, a soul and an attic with two windows. Eyes scrutinize the birds that get back to their nests late at night, the grannies that bake homemade bread, the blatant children playing outside, the flowers raising their heads in the sun, the cats that purr in hidden corners, the dogs hiding their precious bones, the women that dream of the return of their husbands and the husbands dreaming of other women.
Every day opens a new color, a new hope, ends a life and begins others. Every evening sends to sleep all the rippled memories of the day, all the children and cats and birds and wives and husbands. Some of the grannies will sleep longer, other babies will get born out of the dreams of past nights. Some of the flowers will grow seeds, others will bloom, the stars will seem to rotate on the sky awaiting the rays of the same sun that has opened the eyes of all the children and women and cats and husbands and grannies and birds.
When morning comes the smell of coffee invades the streets. It fills up the sky and the staircases of all houses. As eyes open life vibrates, noises clash in the air, birds sing again, cats lick meticulously their paws and wash their furs with slow movements on the edge of wide open windows, dogs inspect every corner of their territory, children moan instead of waking up, wives pack lunch for their husbands, husbands go to work hoping that the day will be better that the other days. And even though life seems the same, it is always different.
In the city where houses have eyes life can still flow in unexpected patterns. Houses have eyes in Sibiu, Romania.
Intr-o tara indepartata exista un oras cu sute de case intelepte. Fiecare casa are un acoperis, un suflet si un pod cu doua ferestre. Ochi privesc cu mare atentie pasarile care se intorc la cuiburile lor noaptea, bunicile care coc paine de casa, copiii galagiosi care se joaca pe afara, florile care isi ridica frumosul cap in soare, pisicile care torc in colturi ascunse, cainii care isi ascund mult iubitele oase, femeile care viseaza cu ochii deschisi la intoarcerea barbatilor lor si barbatii care viseaza la cu totul alte femei.
Fiecare zi deschide o noua culoare, o noua speranta, sfarseste o noua viata si incepe altele. Fiecare seara trimite la culcare toate amintirile ondulate ale zilei, toti copiii si toate pisicile si toate pasarile si toate nevestele si toti barbatii. Unele bunici vor dormi mai mult, alti copii se vor naste din visele noptilor care au trecut. Unele flori vor face seminte, altele vor inflori, stelele vor parea ca se rotesc pe cer asteptand razele aceluiasi soare care a deschis ochii tuturor copiiilor si femeilor si pisicilor si barbatilor si bunicilor si pasarilor.
Cand vine dimineata aroma de cafea napadeste toate strazile. Umple cerul si casele scarilor. In timp ce ochii se deschid, viata vibreaza, zgomote se ciocnesc in aer, pasari canta din nou, pisici isi ling meticulos labele si isi spala blana cu miscari foarte tacticoase pe marginea ferestrelor larg deschise, caini inspecteaza fiecare colt al teritoriului lor, copii gem in loc sa se trezeasca, neveste impacheteaza pranzul pentru barbatii lor, barbati merg la lucru sperand ca ziua va fi mai buna decat alte zile. Si desi viata pare la fel, este mai totdeauna diferita.
In orasul in care casele au ochi viata poate inca sa se scurga in tipare cu totul neasteptate.
Casele au ochi in Sibiu, Romania.
300 words / 300 de cuvinte,
Story and Translation / Poveste si Traducere : memyselfandela / Adela Galasiu October 2013 / July 2015
The Heart is
Nothing but a bunch
Inima nu e altceva
Decat un buchet
Le coeur n’est rien
Das Herz ist
Nichts als ein Strauß
9 words, English, Romanian, French, German – Memyselfandela/ Adela Galasiu, July 2015
Music: Dinu Lipatti playing Chopin Barcarolle for piano in F sharp major op 60 B 158, Youtube
My barefoot soul walks on your old stone paved streets
Resting quiet in front of Holy Wisdom…
Wanders like a sleepwalker among lemon trees and lavender
Smiling at the olives and grapes that will become your oil and wine…
My liquid soul melts in the hot air
And becomes the good wind that spins all your windmills…
My fragile sunburnt soul
Throws itself into the sea with the crying seagulls
And gets born again from the foam and the ashes of all dormant volcanos…
My silent soul laughs at the sight of your eyes, you must be sure of that…
And when it gets tired it returns like a child
To sleep, wrapped and clean, inside the most hidden drawer
Waiting for you to open it again.
Sufletul meu descult paseste pe vechile tale strazi pietruite
Odihnindu-se tacut in fata Sfintei Intelepciuni…
Rataceste ca un somnambul printre lamai si lavanda
Zambind maslinelor si strugurilor ce vor deveni uleiul si vinul tau…
Sufletul meu lichid se topeste in aerul fierbinte
Si devine vantul bun care invarte toate morile tale de vant…
Sufletul meu fragil parjolit de soare
Se arunca in mare cu pescarusii tipand
Si se naste din nou din spuma si cenusa tuturor vulcanilor adormiti…
Sufletul meu mut rade la vederea ochilor tai, fii sigur de asta
Si cand oboseste se intoarce ca un copil
Sa doarma , impaturit si curat, in cel mai ascuns sertar
Asteptand ca tu sa il deschizi din nou.
This is a simple story that happened in the moonlight. A story streaming from my own life. A story about a small moment that will remain for life in my memory.
Maybe many of you have a favourite band. And I bet many of you have hoped or dreamed To get the unique moment to meet the vocalist they like so much , or shake hands with the guitarist they consider to be the best in the world- maybe it is not so for others, but it is so for them.
My very favourite Romanian rock band is Luna Amara, a Romanian alternative rock/grunge band. The name means “Bitter Moon” in Romanian, and has been borrowed from the Roman Polanski movie of the same name, inspired by Pascal Bruckner’s novel with the same name.The band was formed by Nick Făgădar (vocals, guitar) and Gheorghe Farcaş (bass guitar) in Cluj-Napoca, Transylvania, in September 1999, in Romania. I had the chance to listen to them first time live in Sibiu, and I have discovered them much more after I left Romania in 2011.
Luna Amara has played on stage over 200 times in the past years, throughout Romania. As a live act, this Romanian five-piece outfit has a style that combines heavy metal with alternative rock. Luna Amara is also the first Romanian band to introduce the trumpet sound into an Alternative Rock style, a struck of genius in my humble opinion.
All the artists in the band try to dedicate their lives to promote and support a modern European society in Romania. Beyond the poetry in the love songs , their lyrics have often a political message, Luna Amară being also involved in ecological projects such as “Save Vama Veche” (protecting the endangered seahorses), “Save Roşia Montană” (protecting the wildlife and natural surroundings of a mountain area from cyanide poisoning caused by companies that extract gold) and other social awareness projects.
“Luna Amară” is one of Romania’s most successful rock bands and was the top selling artist in a national chain of music stores (Hollywood Music & Film) from July until September 2004. Their songs “Folclor” (“Folklore”), “Gri Dorian” (“Dorian Grey”), “Roşu aprins” (“Scarlet”) and “Ego nr. 4” reached number one in airplay charts at local radio stations around the country.
Throughout the years they have released several albums: “Asfalt” (Asphalt), “Loc lipsă” (Missing Place), “Don’t Let Your Dreams Fall Asleep”(where mainly the acoustic side of the band is underlined), “Pietre in Alb” (Stones in White), “Live la Conti” (Live at Conti). The band performed tours all over Romania in clubs and open air locations as well as shows in the Netherlands, Germany, Bulgaria, Turkey and played live at the Sziget Festival in Budapest.
They may be neither angels, nor heroes, but they are some extremely talented people. It is more than their personal love and feelings decanted in their music, it is also their passion and talent for music. I used to detach myself from stress listening to Deftones, Metallica and Incubus, but they are nowhere near Luna Amara. At least to me, because I am Romanian and Bitter Moon sing the longing and the pain in my native language. But it is not only this. I have discovered such beautiful blue sad profound lyrics attached to their music. They contribute with amazing poetry, not only with extremely versatile sound. Their songs are colourful, they bleed and ache, they are just beautifully alive.
Two years ago when I was back in Romania for few days I have tried desperately to buy their “Stones in White” album, yet no music shop or online store had it available, it was sold out. After a long online research I managed to find a link and I was promised to get the album the next night, when I was going back to Cluj in the evening for my next morning flight back to the UK.
The evening came, I took a taxi and we drove in the evening to the address where the recording studio was. It was a very simple encounter, but it has struck me very profoundly: Nick Fagadar, the founder of Luna Amara, met me almost in the middle of the night because he cared that somebody really wanted to have their album. He handed it to me with a kind smile , he shook my hand like a friend , with no pretentious gestures, and wished me to enjoy the music. I have been truly honoured not only to get the long desired album, but mostly by getting to meet in person the legend behind it.
There was something beautiful that I cannot describe radiating through him as we left him behind. I could not help but smile. The moon was shining, yet this time not bitter, but full of hope and mysterious meanings.
800 words, Memyselfandela , 2015
Memory. One of the strongest muscles in our being. It can contract and ruin your life crushing you underneath or it can gently lift your soul in the light, no matter what life throws at you.
When I was a child my grandmother used to have in a corner of her garden a columbine that used to grow again and again every year. I remember how fascinated I used to be as a little girl by the filigree shape and the delicate yet robust structure of this flower. I could study it day after day when it bloomed or when it’s petals were falling. I used to be very caring with the flowers. And when I say flowers, I mean beings, living creatures that I respected deep in my child’s heart. It never ceased to amaze me and make me happy whenever I saw it, because only there, in that corner of the garden, hidden in shadow under a lilac tree one could have found my columbine. There were no others, it was unique and the neighbours had none. It’s incredible how simple things that adults don’t even notice can be such an awesome thing for a child.
Many years I grew up with the beautiful columbines, studying them as they opened their purple-blue flowers. Columbines meant holiday, freedom and childhood. Not in so many words, but with a warm cosy feeling deep within. Words meant nothing then, only the heart was full of feelings and of a light that an adult is losing somewhere on the way.
This year I was contemplating my bare garden, frozen and with no trace of life. Then suddenly an incredible invisible force, a singular touch of grace has awaken the life in the sleeping buds and wrinkled flowers that rose their heads and stretched their beings in the warm sunshine. Then mesmerised I have discovered hundreds of columbines.
Is it God’s message that life is beautiful and full of diversity on a multitude of layers at the same time? Or is it just a cosmic coincidence? No matter what it is, it has brought back to me that warm cosy feeling in the midst of a busy life full of stress. The morning when I saw the columbines bloom I felt how one must feel when they win the lottery. To others this means nothing. To me it means the return to innocence.
400 words, memyselfandela, June 1st 2015
Photo: Adela Galasiu, May 2015
Motto: “We are cut, we are fallen.
We are become part of that unfeeling universe that sleeps
when we are at our quickest and burns red when we lie asleep.” /
” Suntem secerati, suntem cazuti. Am devenit parte a
acelui univers lipsit de simturi care doarme cand suntem cel mai activi
si mocneste ca jarul cand ne intindem in somn.”
Virginia Woolf, The Waves/ Virginia Woolf, Valurile
I am lost like a stone
Submerged in the depths
Of this endless reality
In which our thoughts sometimes touch.
They come and go
Sometimes tormented like an agony
Sometimes calm like a madman
Marooned on an island of thousand silences.
Don’t keep me in your pocket forever,
Throw me far away,
Just enjoy the moment of
My passing ripples through your existence.
Sunt pierdut ca o piatra
Scufundata in adancurile
Acestei realitati fara sfarsit
In care gandurile noastre uneori se ating.
Ele vin si pleaca
Uneori chinuite ca o agonie
Alteori calme precum un nebun
Naufragiat pe o insula a miilor de taceri.
Nu ma tine in buzunarul tau pentru totdeauna
Arunca-ma in departare,
Bucura-te doar de momentul
Trecatoarelor mele unde prin existenta ta.
memyselfandela/ Adela Galasiu, 63 words, 2014
Motto: “How much better is silence; the coffee cup, the table. How much better to sit by myself like the solitary sea-bird that opens its wings on the stake. Let me sit here for ever with bare things, this coffee cup, this knife, this fork, things in themselves, myself being myself.” Virginia Woolf, The Waves
Peace in a distance,
Overwhelming and grand,
My spirit cannot touch it.
I have drowned my words in the blue
In the green and darkness.
Isn’t silence better?
Smashing restless against the walls of my soul,
Photos: Adela Galasiu, 2014
39 words, memyselfandela, 2014
Photos: Adela Galasiu, June 2014
You can reach from your distant world
my caged sea of dreams
and my head resting on your sands, in a thought.
Hungry eyes gaze full of unspoken stories
lost in this wind, flying, diving, jumping
in this phase of time that belongs to us.
Memories, white and blue
embrace your bones, fill up my breath
dissolving in this finest infusion of light.
Poți atinge din lumea ta îndepărtată
mare mea de vise incuiate
și capul meu rezemat pe nisipurile tale, într-un gând.
Ochi înfometați privesc plini de povești nespuse,
pierduți în acest vânt, zburand, scufundându-se, sărind
în această fază a timpului care ne aparține.
Amintiri, albe și albastre,
îmbrățișeaza oasele tale, umplu respirația mea
dizolvandu-se în aceasta minunata infuzie de lumină.
63 words, memyselfandela/ Adela Galasiu June 2014
Photo: Adela Galasiu, May 2014
After 2 months of waiting here is the episode where I had the honour of sharing my story too. My contribution is dedicated to my beloved father, Ioan Galasiu and to Gershwin’s beloved Rhapsody in Blue. Many thanks BBC Radio 4. Adela Galasiu, 2014
My dear friends, I am blogging already for 2 years now.
What an intensive experience it was, what a great experience I see ahead.
I thank each and every one of you for stopping by in my humble universe.
Love and Light to you all,
close your yes
so that we don’t lose any atom of us
l hide you in me
leave out all the rest
keep on pulsating my love
inside of our heart
33 words, memyselfandela, 2012
Have you ever thought of how people save money? Sometimes in the bank, hoping for better days? Sometimes in a piggy bank, planning to break it for a special occasion? I’ve even heard of people that have filled up mattresses with money just to find out years later that the money had no longer value.
What are the most precious things in your life? For me those are true love, peaceful happiness and humble joy, all coming without a price. They are life changing, healing, growing, they simply bless our life.
I think nobody belongs to anyone, we are all born free. And there is a reason why we all come and leave alone from this life – to learn a lesson, one predestined to us alone, a lesson that allows our soul to grow.
It is truly a gift to share the journey with somebody we love and nobody should ever take anyone for granted. If we understand that this life is not the final destination but just the passage towards it, then many things we have been taught a lifetime suddenly change. We understand that you cannot really hold on to money, because nobody takes any material thing on the other side. But that through the experience in this material world we can learn what true feelings are, how unlimited love can be. We should be holding on to the friendship and love in our life as they will be the only things that will matter when we will finish this short journey and start our life in a higher spiritual dimension. If instead of owning the moment or just living it through our senses we learn how to share the moment and love in every moment, we will definitely find the light at the end of this tunnel.
300 words, memyselfandela March 2014
Photo: Adela Galasiu, 2014