Getting ripe!

To better understand my excitement you have to know, that my living space is tiny. I have neither a garden nor a balcony, but I decided to grow tomatoes on windowsill.

Because of zero experience, I investigated suitable varieties on internet. I chose for two with feminine names, both starting with V. I would like to think that V meant victory, but it was V like Venus and Vilma.

I spent my time with them from seeds, trying to grow strong plants and kill permanent doubts.

I have already harvested a few of gold Venus fruits. They were extremely small but yummy! And there are still many of them on plants, waiting for the right size and color.

Vilma should be slightly bigger and red, see the picture above. I couldn’t wait to taste and check the redness every minute. Approaching the goal, my impatience and salivation rate increases.

It’s too early for evaluation, but it seems to be clear that efficiency of growing tomatoes on windowsill isn’t high. On the other hand it brought me adventure of growing and harvesting yummy fruits, even small in numbers.

Call me crazy, but I think I will repeat it next year again! Your experience and recommendations for a gardener without garden are welcome.

With love and humility,

Ivana

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Sleeping summer

There are people who come to life with the sun and have almost no limits. On the contrary, my body switches to hibernation as soon as it’s too hot or hot for too long. And it has been so over the past few weeks!

I was paralyzed by the weather and worked only on autopilot as if I was drugged. Feeling sleepy, but without possibility of true sleep at night. Who would call it cooling when the daytime temperature in the shade is the same as the temperature of human body, and at midnight it is only ten degrees less? For weeks! And they forecast the hot hell will continue…

Luckily, some rain came today and brought happiness to my soul. I walked (not danced) in the rain and absorbed the drops by the whole surface of my body. It was so different from common shower. Although the shower was more comfortable, the rain today was more cleansing because it touched not only the body but also the soul, perhaps because I was so thirsty for it.

Later I noticed that the portion of today’s rain was nothing for the nature around. The soil remained dry and cracked, the fallen water somehow disappeared. Berries stay dried on the bush, sadly announcing low to zero harvest. And the leaves on the trees become yellow and start to fall as if autumn was already there.

One must be happy for a little thing and I’m looking forward to a nice sleep today, if possible without thinking of tomorrow’s hell.

Wishing you a pleasant summer,

Ivana

Being happy

Originally, I wrote a post called “Out of Eden”, wandering if everything was great and joyful in paradise, while outside it was only sweat, blood and thistle. But then, even my drawing looked too depressing. So, I slightly changed the angle.

During last days I’ve met several people who couldn’t find their joy. It was lost and they couldn’t remember anything what would make them happy. Some of them even blamed me I wasn’t able to understand because I have so many interests – sources of happiness. At that moment, it seemed that joy was a crime. As if the existence of joy meant the absence of problems.

It didn’t make sense to explain that I feel drowned in troubles sometimes. But I insist on my right to joy anyway. I cultivate my small sources of joy everyday, because they help me to overcome mistakes and suffering that are part of everybody’s life.

Finally, I realized that medicine is not the number of interests and activities, although they can help. The most important thing is to start reacting spontaneously, freeing joy from the fortress of control and social conventions.

And the truth is, I’ve always been a little rebel in this field. I laughed at places where it didn’t fit. Sometimes it was more cramping than real joy, but smiling has been part of my life philosophy for many years. And sometimes it’s really difficult to find a smile, but it doesn’t mean I’m not trying to do it.

So, today I announce a revolt against sadness and I’m sending the picture of a crazy joy to all who want to smile at least a little.

With joy and love, Ivana

From Hate to Love

As I have already mentioned, drawing is for me a matter of emotions, something between prayer and therapy. The picture above is 5 years old, but its story is still alive and here it is.

Once upon a time I woke up with a strong feeling of hate. There was no reason, I barely opened my eyes from sleep, but the emotion was there and I had a full throat of it. The hate almost choked me up even though it had no specification. It was a pure hate without direction, the feeling itself.

I had no time to think how strange it is or why it’s happening to me. I needed to give it away quickly otherwise that emotion could destroy my whole day. So I took the color pencils into my hand and tried to vomit the hate on the paper.

There was no intention to create a drawing, nothing to say about a beautiful drawing, it was a blind and wild scribble in the beginning. But as time passed, my soul and hand calmed down, and suddenly the first hearts appeared on the paper. It was a 100% automatic drawing, so I watched with surprise what my hand was creating. It took time, but I wanted to be sure that the hate had gone.

I would say that the original scribble is no more visible under waves of beauty and love. But I know how the picture was developed and appreciate the very personal experience that love is really everywhere, even on the bottom of hate.

Ivana

To be connected

Following my last advice, I turn attention to the faith. Although I’m not a part of any religion officially, my heart speaks Hebrew.

I have no preconditions to it from the family, it came to me in dreams many years ago and since that I’ve confirmed a strong response of my soul and heart to the sound of the Hebrew language in various circumstances, even though I didn’t understand a single word in the beginning.

I’m still on the way of searching how to implement this fact into my daily life and not to pretend anything. Maybe I’m not fast enough and this is why the violet color sits deep in the wardrobe full of dust.

So I returned to the picture I drew a few years ago, when I was trying to catch my vision of the commandments inside of the tree of life.

I have meditated over this drawing last days and it seems to me, that each of us is a kind of smart-phone with the spiritual crown instead of antenna, constantly sending messages about true personal stuff to the whole universe with stars as transmitters.

It doesn’t matter how colorful and funny things are displayed to other people, the truth is preciously mined and sent to the attention of HaShem.

Sometimes it’s hard to believe when you get no direct answer, but the point is to keep trying and stay connected, right?

With love and apology for my Hebrew handwriting,

Ivana

Taste of colors

Have you ever wondered how the colors smell and taste? I am sure they have their own energy that is not easy to exactly perceive, but we can play with associations. I will take a risk and show my inner self by giving you an example.

Red, when I close my eyes and ask for red, I feel the blood – wet and sticky blood with ferocious taste on my tongue. Something bleeds and calls the fragility on the border between life and death. My second attempt for red was juicy fruits of red color with a large amount of seed inside. This time life and fertility have beaten death 😋 But still I feel a kind of potential danger in red. It might taste great, I stay in alert.

Yellow. I smell the freshness of the lemon, but its sour taste is balanced by a ton of honey. Sweet and fresh sour mixed together, that’s how I taste the yellow. Yellow is the light why I’m not afraid to go to a dark cellar.  Yellow is the tool through which I can see the truth, even it could bring a huge shock.

Blue is an ocean at night, wide and deep, full of dark secrets. I feel how cold and wet the blue is. Anyway, for me the blue doesn’t represent the purity because I’m fully aware of millions microorganism living there. Plus I feel the salinity inside of blue and each grain of salt means the impurity which separates sterility from viable environment, with too high salinity of death on the opposite side. For me, the blue brings the alchemy of living environment or better to say how much secrets and impurities are acceptable in our lives.

Orange is a sun for me. I feel friendly sunshine on my skin or even a hot sunny day in the middle of desert. Orange is always smiling in my imagination, enjoying every second of life. Orange is fun, a sense of humor, a celebration of life alone and with friends. Orange is a must otherwise you would fall into sadness or depression.

Violet makes me feel lavender in the old cabinet, in which the spiritual robe hangs and only lavender prevents moths from destroying it. In my image the violets is full of grey as if the dust covered the spirituality.

And finally green, this is the place where I can freely run and truly be who I am. I smell all the shades of the forest, the resin of the conifers that improves my breathing and breaks the boundaries of my options in life. Inside of green, I can always touch my heart and read what is written inside.

So, this is my honest imagination of colors at the moment, I’m staying naked in front of you.  I’ll tell you next time how to read it, how to detect a possible problem and how to bring some harmony into it. Would you like to guess? Feel free to write comments, I’m curious. And if you like to share your imagination through colors, I will be honored.

With love, Ivana

Smudging with Mugwort

For years I fully appreciate healing skills of Mugwort (Artemisia vulgaris), especially in the area of digestion and hepatic activity. Mugwort is warming, astringent and bitter herb, one of those that helps women and knows their secrets. And perhaps this is why Mugwort belongs to the basic herbs used in magic and witchery.

There is a lot of Mugwort growing wild in my neighborhood, so I had a great source for tincture, vinegar, salve and even capsules every year. But until last week I closed my eyes before its magical power.

Generally, I am on guard for rituals because I know how much power they have and how easily they can be misused. And even a good intention may not protect us from disaster because our Ego is masquerade master and likes to present itself as a pure heart.

But I got into a situation where I needed to call my herbal allies into a gun, ask them for protection from evil. I used other options before.

Mugwort volunteered first and I didn’t hesitate for second. Bitterness was our common language and I knew it had to be burned. Despite tiny living space and high temperature outside, I decided for smudging. With no previous experience, I succeeded!

I wanted to make safe smudge sticks, producing minimum smoke but accomplishing the purpose. With a lot of patience, I reached the goal and got Mugwort smudge sticks, looking like homemade cigarettes with burning time nearly one hour per stick. So I was cleansing my home, feeling the move of an old energy out.

I also feel a necessity to do similar procedure inside of my body. I mean kind of burning therapy to cleanse my body before Mugwort starts to protect. I am sure my “cigarettes” might be used for moxa treatment, but is it safe if I don’t have enough knowledge of the meridians etc.?

I’ll keep you updated, in the meantime I welcome any advice or recommendation.

With love, Ivana