Category: Nice

Silver Rain

Perfect gejat van Saskia:

Gold is bombastic. It’s used to impress, in the old days as well as now. It’s a sign of power, although more to brag than anything else. In the old days it wasn’t used to brag. Everyone wanted to have gold back then, because gold was worth money. With gold you could safe yourself from your downfall. Gold was the key to success.
Nowadays gold is only used for bragging and even to brag you don’t necessarily need it. Cars, planes, mansion and other expensive object brag for you.
Silver, on the other hand is different. Silver is softer, quieter, sweeter. A chain made of silver also impresses, but attracts less attention. Silver and her colour are always pretty. On a light skin, a dark skin, in a hall or a living room. Silver also indicates you’re rich, but you don’t brag. Gold is the new, quick money. Silver is different, more aristocratic, older. Beautiful because of her elegance and grace, not because of her value.
In a world where everything is about appearances, it is hard to find natural beauty. Everyone uses botox, face lifts and crèmes. But they are there, the silver people in the golden crowd. Sometimes they are beautiful from the outside, but more often they are beautiful from the inside. So beautiful, they seem to glow. Like quiet lighted spots they go through life and they seem to make everything better, even if it’s just for a short while.

Daisy stared out of her window. It was a rainy night. It was one of those nights where you couldn’t do anything. She didn’t mind, but her mother was already whining for an hour that she had to go do something.
But Daisy didn’t know what. She was uninspired and loving it. It made her spirit calm and her body quiet. She stared at the street where cars where driving by slowly, encumbered by the rain. She imagined the irritated faces of the drivers. They couldn’t drive fast and their cars were getting dirty of the mud. Apparently speed and clean cars were their pleasures in life. She could already see the foam being formed around their mouths, their faces turning red and the sweat working its way through the pores. Everything that was missing was a nice shouting, but that was already starting in the pit of the stomach.

“Daisy!” She jumped up and looked at her mother with wide eyes. She had been so preoccupied by her dream that she hadn’t heard her mother coming up the stairs.
“You’re not going to be one of those teenagers who never do anything. You haven’t been outside in two days, so shoo. Go outside.”
Daisy sighed and got up to put on a pair of jeans. “When can I come back?”
“You’re staying away until at least ten, so I can vaccuum in a normal way.” Her mother answered. Daisy nodded and kissed her on the cheek. After Daisy put on her shoes and coats, she grabbed her bike and rode off.
Maybe I could visit Joy, Daisy wondered. But then she realised that her friend is in England until Friday. She drove on without knowing where she was going.
Daisy stopped at the bridge. Slowly she climbed on the railing and sat there, with her bicycle against her legs. According to her watch it was eight-thirty. She had at least another hour to kill before she could go home.

The bridge was one of Daisy’s favourite spots, because from there she could watch the city. She was sitting with her back against one of the pillars and looked. Because of the rain everything seemed gentler and more pleasant. In her mind she could still hear the drivers shouting, but they were just a small part of an expanded city. She could see all the people indoors, in their homes, near the fire places and each other. Happy with the warmth and the company.
“Strange, isn’t it?” For the second time that evening Daisy was startled.

“What is?” she asked.
“That something that can make so much noise also can be so quiet.” The girl put her arms on the railing and stared at the water. Daisy studied her. The girl had white blond pigtails and grey clothes. Daisy didn’t know what it was, but the girl had something familiar about her.
She stared at the water again, where the rain made little dots on the waves. “Yes, strange…”
“Like when the moon visits the sun. A phenomenon that’s so connected to the night, but still can visible in daylight.” The girl looked at Daisy with a smile on her face.
“Isn’t it grand?”
Daisy nodded and smiled back. “Fantastic.”
The girl straightened her back “I got to go, otherwise I will be late.” She said Daisy goodbye and walked on. Daisy looked at the girl until she disappeared.

For quite some time, she remained on the bridge. She looked at the drops on the water and thought about the girl she barely knew. Daisy still couldn’t place her, not even with her amount of fantasy. Maybe that wasn’t necessary, she thought, maybe it was about the things she said; the truth of her words. Because the girl was right, Daisy decided. Some things have so such big contradictions in them by nature, it’s marvelous.
Those weren’t the actual words of the girl, but it was what Daisy had learned from them. Even the most common things can be wondrous.
After a while Daisy let herself down and got on her bicycle. When she got home her mother said, “You didn’t actually have to be outside the whole evening.”
She shrugged and disappeared upstairs.

The next morning Daisy peered out the window. The sky was a clear blue. On one side she could see a shiny star that was brightening the sky. On the other side she saw the moon like a fading smile of the Cheshire cat. She stared at scene for some time and happily closed the window.


ps: het verhaal is dus ©2008 Saskia

Pan’s Labyrinth

Simpel weg een topfilm 😀 . Ik heb hem in de Verkade fabriek gezien, met Tommy, Sabine en Renate. Anyway, het plot:

Spanje, 1944, einde burgeroorlog. Carmen is onlangs hertrouwd met de koude en autoritaire man Vidal, een kapitein in Franco’s leger. Ze trekt met haar dochtertje Ofélia in bij haar nieuwe man, maar het jonge meisje heeft moeite met dit nieuwe leven. Ze zoekt afleiding in het mysterieuze labyrint, dat zich net naast het nieuwe huis bevindt. Pan, de bewaker van het labyrint, vertelt haar dat ze niemand minder is dan de verloren prinses van het magische koninkrijk. Om de waarheid te achterhalen, moet Ofélia drie gevaarlijke opdrachten vervullen….



Alles waar je echt van houdt
zal je warmte blijven geven
Ook al is het niet gebleven
of geworden wat je wou

het blijft altijd een deel van jou
en een stukje van je leven

gejat van Kitty van Veronique