illustration by vikky.salmon
I planned to visualise the skirt of one of the first year students.
It was made out of cotton, burgundy in colour, praised by many.
Many well dressed and full of expectations.
Just like us a year ago.
What a top-class school and staff.
Because such successful people graduate from here.
Or at least, it's being presented that way.
However I couldn't stand to look at the image I drew. It was chaos. Absolute...
I had to cover up the skirt. How? Simply.
Stick a piece of paper on top of it!
One of the corners however came of. Looking at that visual lie, I let it be.
Let at least that little piece be authentic. In a certain sense: true.
At the back of the paper I wrote a few words, that threw me back in time.
To wrappers,
in which the marathon runners were isolating their bodies;
in which the chocolates, that meant more than sweets, were wrapped;
in which salonky* used to hang on the Christmas tree back at home.
And that reminded me of how we,as children, lie.
There are salonky*, that pretend to be full, but the truth is otherwise.
Do you remember, how you used to undress the Christmas tree of them?
Mum would always find out.
With time.
And that would hurt even more.
*Salonka /pl. salonky/ is a typical kind of chocolate packed in shiny wrappers hung on Christmas tree as a decoration in Slovakia.
xxx
I planned to visualise the skirt of one of the first year students.
It was made out of cotton, burgundy in colour, praised by many.
Many well dressed and full of expectations.
Just like us a year ago.
What a top-class school and staff.
Because such successful people graduate from here.
Or at least, it's being presented that way.
However I couldn't stand to look at the image I drew. It was chaos. Absolute...
I had to cover up the skirt. How? Simply.
Stick a piece of paper on top of it!
One of the corners however came of. Looking at that visual lie, I let it be.
Let at least that little piece be authentic. In a certain sense: true.
At the back of the paper I wrote a few words, that threw me back in time.
To wrappers,
in which the marathon runners were isolating their bodies;
in which the chocolates, that meant more than sweets, were wrapped;
in which salonky* used to hang on the Christmas tree back at home.
And that reminded me of how we,
There are salonky*, that pretend to be full, but the truth is otherwise.
Do you remember, how you used to undress the Christmas tree of them?
Mum would always find out.
With time.
And that would hurt even more.
*Salonka /pl. salonky/ is a typical kind of chocolate packed in shiny wrappers hung on Christmas tree as a decoration in Slovakia.
xxx
Plánovala som zvizualizovať sukňu jedného dievčaťa z prváku.
Bavlnenú, bordovej farby, chválenú inými.
Vyobliekanými a plnými očakávaní.
Tak ako asi aj my pred rokom.
Aká špičková škola a hviezdna budúcnosť.
Lebo z tohoto miesta vychádzajú úspešní ľudia.
Teda, ono sa to tak prezentuje.
Nedalo mi, no ten môj obrážťok bol jeden chaos. Dovolím di tvrdiť, grc. A sukňu som musela skryť.
Ako? Jednoducho, prvoplánovo.
Zalepiť!
Jeden z rožkov sa však odškeril. Tak pri toľkej falši, reku, aspoň ten nechám tak.
Dozadu, dozadu som napísala pár slov, ktoré ma vrátili naspať.
K pozlátkam,
v ktorých som videla bežcov na maratóne,
v ktorých som dostala bonbóny, čo znameli viac než sladkosť,
v ktorých sa na domácom vianočnom stromčeku kedysi chovali salonky.
A to mi pripomenulo klamstvá, ktoré ako deti páchame.
Sú salonky, ktoré sa tvária plno, ale pravdepodobne nie sú.
Pamätáš, ako si objedal vianočný stromček?
Mamina to aj tak vždy zistila.
S časom.
A teba to bolelo o to viac.
06102015
that's sooo beautiful:) can't wait to publish a book with you:)
OdpovedaťOdstrániť