Letter 19

She has only one child. She calls him: my little grasshopper. He doesn’t know, but she is about to cry.

Letter 18

there are more than fifty teapots on her shelf.

she has a big family.

Letter 17

On the shelf lays a picture of her child.

Letter 16

Sometimes just a small thing makes us feel different, or helps us to feel balanced.

Letter 15

“It happened suddenly. One day I looked in the mirror and I couldn’t recognize myself.”

Letter 14

‘Mr Palomar…asks himself why he is so interested in giraffes. Perhaps because the world around him moves in an unharmonious way, and he hopes always to find some pattern in it, a constant. Perhaps because he himself feels that his own advance is impelled by uncoordinated movements of the mind, which seem to have nothing to do with one another and are increasingly difficult to fit inot any pattern of inner harmony.’ (Italo Calvino)

this photo was taken by my mum 25 years ago.

this book was published 25 years ago.

i am reading now.

and i love giraffes.

Letter 13

deep breath.


dream away.

don’t wake me up.

letter 12

in the midst of your dreams

two or three swift-flying


Letter 11

I came back from the trip.

I wanted to tell you all the stories happened with me.

It’s always strange to come back home which is not my home.

Or it is home indeed?

What is your home?

Letter 10

we are just shadow creators.

that’s all.

Letter 9

One day every single room will be taken by its arms. And from the men who once lived there will rest nothing but the dreams they whispered in the very blue night.






Letter 8

loosing her track

like water

in the sand

like music

flinging across the sea

Letter 7

“There is no means of testing which decision is better, because there is no basis for comparision. We live everything as it comes, without warning, like an actor going on cold. And what can life be worth if the first rehearsal for life is life itself? That is why life is always like a sketch. No, ‘sketch’ is not quite the word, because a sketch is an outline of something, the groundwork for a picture, whereis the sketch that is our life is a sketch for nothing, an outline with no picture” (Milan Kundera)

*i like number 7 by the way