Author: Blue Tram

Until recently I was sporadically wearing dresses, but thanks to the stormy weather that is raging in Galway day by day and also a gale in my head I discovered that if I put on a colourful dress, I can feel the spring even in the middle of winter.

You probably noticed that the weather often appears in my articles. Eh, it’s impossible to hide, that in Ireland meteorological conditions can be really depressing. Through the months of grey clouds, I have been dizzy since morning and often I don’t  want to go outside.

– Theatre is complicated because is about our everyday moods, emotions and fears

– so Emmauel Demarcy-Mota, director of one of the stage in Paris, told during the press conference, which I was attending.

If you follow my blog you know that last summer, I spent almost a month as a volunteer at the Sibiu International Theatre Festival, the biggest theatre festival on the world.  Where I have been writing reports about volunteers work and I helped the artists to organise shows on the main square. During this time I met so many charismatic people from cultural field, but I wrote almost nothing about theatre.

I wondered why?

I think blogging is like travelling through life: a cloudburst, a gale, mud, warm wind, coolness, logs underfoot, surprises around the corner, bagels for breakfast, coffee, lots of coffee.

When I make Christmas cards I become a child again.

I see how is snowing at night from my childhood and can hear the creak of wooden floor from the living room. Christmas tree is situated on a sideboard, which my grandfather found after the second war on the Warsaw’s street.

Moment shines, the street is white at night and I am waiting with the nose stuck to the window.

I cut images from the paper, the same, which I have in my memory. Then attach ribbons, buttons, and I wear elks in a crochet scarfs.

I left to miss you,

I left because when I was close I could not see what I had

– sings Bebe, a Spanish singer, in the next cloudy day in Galway. I watch a videoclip, where she climbs on the sunny Sierra Morena mountains, dragging a tiny box with a few things behind it.

And I listen to the Lack around me.

Lack of sun, Lack of orange huge sofa, Lack of perfect job, lack of space for shoes, lack of coffee from 37 West, lack of Wroclaw, lack of ticket to Lisbon, lack of meeting with a friend (…)