The Acrobat*

1907792_10152814368575770_5121763742679644222_nAn acrobat; a juggler; a 1000 faces freak who wanders the world in search of what´s already there, inside of her. That´s probably (always;only probably) me.
Between work travels around the world, dancing, teaching, lecturing and choreographing, it´s Writing time.

Cutting my nails short so they won´t interfere with the computer keyboard; lighting a candle and an incense stick; perfuming my wrists so an extra divine scent can dance around me just as words do. A cup of strong coffee stares at me, the teacher that just won´t let me go the easy way. Shortcuts are for the weak legs and my legs are strong. Maybe blessed. Maybe.

Going there: where innocence and pure possibilties reside: the House of Creativity. Hence the omnipresent fear. Nothing scares us more than pure happiness. We may think otherwise but that´s an illusion. Failure is nothing but a minuscule, shrivelled, insignificant monster when compared with the ever so powerful success. Sadness is safe, well accompanied and known to our inner ghosts – an old mattress we´re used to sleeping on. It´s happiness that takes the carpet from under our feet: the Big Jump!


eu a escrever

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