The Gipsy (in Slovenia)

lower 2.jpgThey called her princess but she knew better, smiling at them, nodding to make them feel appreciated.

They thought they knew her but nobody knew her, not even her.
How can you know the Unknown?

She was the wind – a Gipsy, her mum said since the day she was born, ripping her tiny bits of hair off and screaming to the top of her lungs -, an unpredictable wave that hits you when, and where, you least expect it.

-You always leave. – Said her lovers, unaware she left because she had to; she left because there was no reason to stay.

She was not defined by labels, appearances, expectations.
Only her heart, and its dangerous whispers, directed her actions. Only her heart knew her. (Perhaps not even her heart for the heart is an open door and open doors lead nowhere and everywhere).

The Gipsy dances beyond the veil.

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Text by Joana Saahirah
Photos of Joana Saahirah taken by Breda Jurečko taken backstage before show in Maribor, Slovenia.

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