Poetry and stones

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On the Friday night, here in lovely Mijas, there was a poetry book presentation at Casa Museo...yes, I know, don't you just love when people tell you... there was!! Sorry, but I did not know about it either until that very afternoon.... we should all read Mijas Semanal much more than we do!
I'll continue.... the author of this poetry book, Eduardo Martinez y Hernandez, to the right, presented his latest book of poetry called Entre Menhires, Dolmenes, Tumulos y Calvarios..... I went, thinking this is going to be  a real test for my Spanish, and listened with incredible pleasure to the gentleman in the middle talk at length about the book, his friendship with the author and his wife Margrethe Johannessen Kul, who has written the prologue to the book, and about the subject of the book...... the stones, that we, humanity, have raised through the ages to commemorate, well, ourselves, the buildings we have built and continue to build and what they mean in our lives. He spoke with surprise about the stones, that someone would choose to write poetry about stones..... it does not surprise me at all. 
I grew up with stones, rune stones, dolmens, and a grand mother who took us round "our" island in Denmark, to see them, first on bicycles, later in cars, we visited these stones almost every trip I made to the island. My grandmother worked in the local museum, and was familiar with not only the big stones, but also the shards found in the fields, of ancient arrow heads in flint, of which we had serious collections as children. Stones, for me, also an integral part of the beach, not the sandy stretches we are familiar with here, but wild, wave and wind swept beaches, where winter determined next summers best bathing spot, never the same. There, eyes firmly on the ground, we looked for "rassle stene", perfectly round pieces of flint, with a small hole, where the water got in to clean away the limestone, around the kernel of flint in the middle, this made them rattle, hence the name, and we priced them enormously. More so, than the dolmens. For a child, a treasure in the pocket, means more than any sense of history. Later in life, as an adult, I return time and time again to those dolmens, for me, who grew up without a real sense of roots, that place meant that many feet had walked where I now stood, and coming every year, was as close as I could get to "coming home".
Reading the poems, google translate firmly on my iPad, I am delighted, they are beautiful, my Spanish is  not sufficient to follow all of it..... so maybe I make some things up... does that matter?
Reading the poems, have made me think of those dolmens, that I have not seen now, for many years.
The poems have made me think of what I call "coming home", why it is home, why my heart belongs here, and not somewhere else? The stone mountain at my back, the sea to the front, and my world in full view.
The poems talk of love, and of respect, sometimes lost, in a world of haste and superficiality and I will read them again and again. Thank you, Eduardo Martinez y Hernandez.

And in the middle of the week.....

comes wednesday...... and that's great...... am reading a book by Marina Endicott, "Good to a Fault" and love it, it's about this middle aged woman, who takes in a family after they have a bit of a fender bender, and it is dicovered that the mother has cancer.... 3 kids and a grandmother from hell........ it sounds like a true story , but is fiction..... great read... it really makes you think, would I do that... could I do that......?? It would be lovely to think of oneself as someone who both would and could, and yet, for me it would be a long long stretch...... sometimes the great selfishness of no kids and being an artist... yes, I think being an artist means that you have to be quite selfish, or you get swept away by other people, means I live a very very indulged life..... and don't even appreciate it at times.... although that is human.... so, if you are reading this... stop, take a long breath and think yes, I LOVE my life........ I love my life, that's for sure.....:o)

Real Life Problems and their Solution

a while back, when we were on holiday in Perth, we went to Guildford for the day, very cute town with a large amount of "antique" shops... filled with all kinds of fun stuff.... I found an old book, called very appropriately "Real Life Problems and their Solution" - who would not buy a book that promises you this?
So I thought to lighten your Sunday load, that I would give you a nice little tidbit from here, just in case you had problems you were wondering about, so here is one of my favourites:
HOW TO KNOW IF ONE IS LOVED
"Do you really love me?" This question is asked so often by some lovers that the repetition becomes almost mechanical, and can indeed cause considerable displeasure.This search for re assurance has two possible causes : either there is an underlying fear that the partner may be lost, or alternatively it is to minister to their vanity and pride. As for the first, with constant repetition the reassurance soon lacks its first significance. If the doubting lover could be quiet for a time this problem would solve itself. A hundred different things can tell far plainer than any words what place is held in the partner's heart. It should not take a courting couple long to find out if they are suited to each other. If the physical presence of each is the source of a constant sense of joy, that is an excellent start. The slightest repulsion of any sort which may arise is a fatal bar to complete happiness. A much surer test is the interest and willingness each displays in the effort to understand the other's character.
If, after several evenings spent together, John has given Mary a non-stop account of his life, family, friends, sports and prejudices,and has never paused to ask if she has parents living, or brothers and sisters, Mary may reasonably suspect that John's chief interest is in himself, and always will be. Joan has been walking out with Peter for a month and has never once inquired about his work, the books he reads or his ambitions, but has made him listen to an endless tirade against silly old Miss Chump at the office, or the beastly little clerk who thinks all the girls are ready to fall for him. Peter should know by this time that Joan's head is as empty of ideas as her heart is empty of any power to evoke and retain a deep affection. The willingness to be patient and attentive, to put one's personal likes aside and to show a real interest in the concerns of others - these are the signs that a lover has the power to make a marriage a success.
There is no such thing as a perfect lover, and he or she who spends a lifetime looking for one will die soured and disappointed. Furthermore, one may soon come to love the mate's weaknesses even more than his strength. But, at the same time, the strength must always be there and available in time of need.
there you go!...... are you a Mary... or a John ( met a couple of those in my time).... maybe a dud like Joan ( she should just be put out of her misery) or a saint like Peter ( a whole month of Miss Chump, seriously dude?)
I have had such fun... and yes, much of it is obvious, but still, if you can laugh whilst being reminded, then that's great!
Take care...have a good week ahead....... Mariann