I can hear you!

How many times have you heard that? Don’t yell at me, I can hear you! We have ears, so we can hear, that’s clear. But do we listen to everything and every time we hear? How many people catch the same message when hearing the same?

There are many factors that affect what we actually get. Most does not depend on the ability to hear, but more on the ability to listen. Which means the will to understand each other.

This leads me to wonder if the ear is a tool for hearing or even for listening. Mechanically, it is clear. But why is the shape of the ear so unique? Have you ever observed the ears of people around you? It’s a fascinating spectacle! So many mysterious shapes and turns falling into the depths of the head. You can only guess where and how it ends.

Perhaps the ear is not only used to capture tones, voices or noise. What if all those complex and unique shapes define our ability to listen? I would like to discover the little part responsible for the desire to listen, for the desire to understand each other. In my world of naïve imagination, it would be possible to stimulate this part of the ear and change where we are. What do you think?

Hugs, love and peace!

Ivana

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Message bottle

I was in the mood of a castaway and had a painting on the same subject in process. After the situation in Ukraine became terrible, I had to change perspective and gain a little hope.

I felt anxious because of all the people who were in the middle of the shooting, which was destroying their peaceful life and future. At a distance of less than a thousand miles from my home. How is it possible?

I prayed for peace, and if possible together with a democracy option. Then I put my prayer into the bottle, asking the whole Universe for help.

Love and peace for all of you!

Ivana

Left in silence

I needed some therapeutic painting yesterday. To bring peace to troubled heart, I tried to paint the silence in the middle of snowy forest. Scenery, which I have seen only on TV in last years, while as a child I remember the snow every winter. It sounds like from my grandma when she remembered her youth 🙂

Anyway, I spent several hours trying to create a snowy serenity that I finally had to break by a snowman in front. And then the sleigh, forgotten by the child builders, made the point behind the whole story. Still, it’s a landscape of silence, but the signs of playful creativity bring a kind of hope and hidden joy. At least for me.

I’d like to share the feelings that yesterday’s painting gave to me.

With love and hugs,

Ivana

Trauma with Lilac

Lilac is now blooming in all shades of violet, spreading its sweet narcotic aroma far away. It would be easy to say that I don’t like the scent or that I don’t like the lilac as such. But the whole truth comes from the past.

I grew up in a socialist country during the Cold War, being in many ways brainwashed toward to the “heroic Soviet Union” and against the “imperialist villains of the West”. The top season of the campaign was always concentrated to the beginning of May. On the May 1st you should expect a huge demonstration in honor of the Labor Day, participation was a duty with no excuse. A few days later a magnificent celebration of liberation by the Red Army took a place. My mind already rechecked the memory of the past by the eyes of an adult person, but there still remains a symbol of these days which is Lilac.

I remember a number of pictures from the last days of the World War II, where people welcomed the RA soldiers with lilac bouquets. As a child I was forced to draw either lilac or red flags, boys were allowed to draw also tanks for the celebration. We created many lilac flowers from the paper and then used them like windows decoration or a kind of flags during demonstration. All possible and impossible places were decorated by Lilac in the beginning of May because Lilac was the flower of victory of the Red Army, the victory of the Soviet bloc.

On some point I’m still a small girl who does not understand why people kill each other. I don’t like to split the world for white and black only. Looking at beautiful lilac blossoms I know that I’m not fair to them. But even today I feel metallic and oily taste in my mouth, as if every Lilac grew from a tank instead of a garden. And the sweet aroma keeps me alert so I don’t adopt too much outside influence even it would promise the sweet future.

And so it happened, that Lilac in my memories suffers from a bad ideology, and I am sometimes too careful in my life. I hope I can dissolve the rest of my trauma soon. That’s why I tried, for the first time in my life, draw a tank! It was a big challenge for my pacifistic mind, but I did it like a therapy, like an attempt to go along with Lilac.

Ivana