by Monicka Clio Sakki
There were two things that captured my eye at a recent visit at the Jaffa flea market. The store sign is nothing but a flea market finding, obviously designed recently, but I love how it blends with the old and rustic surroundings. The silverware remind me of the days when my grandmother would lay all our silver stuff on the big table, and would spend the whole day scrubbing them with a special cloth and strong smelly gel. Should I be glad I don’t have such duties?
This cracked me… from my daily calendar.
“For father’s Day, I’m giving my dad an hour of free tech support.”
This is just when the talk of death, inspires you for a new life. Happy Weekend!
More poems by Pablo Neruda
You start dying slowly
if you do not travel,
if you do not read,
If you do not listen to the sounds of life,
If you do not appreciate yourself.
You start dying slowly
When you kill your self-esteem;
When you do not let others help you.
You start dying slowly
If you become a slave of your habits,
Walking everyday on the same paths…
If you do not change your routine,
If you do not wear different colours
Or you do not speak to those you don’t know.
You start dying slowly
If you avoid to feel passion
And their turbulent emotions;
Those which make your eyes glisten
And your heart beat fast.
You start dying slowly
If you do not change your life when you are not satisfied with your job, or with your love,
If you do not risk what is safe for the uncertain,
If you do not go after a dream,
If you do not allow yourself,
At least once in your lifetime,
To run away from sensible advice…
There is nothing more powerful than an open blue sky together with the sight of a wide sea. A sailing march and a flying show add the fun! [independance day in Hertzelia harbour!]
In the summer I usually wear a brown Australian hat - it keeps the sun away and it’s wind proof. many people see me and ask: “Where are the horses?”. So, well, here they are!
This bag is made out of a Japanese calendar (the woven horses fabric was the page of the year of the horse) coupled with the remainders of my grandmother’s living room upholstery.
From my surprising visit at Gan-Garoo 
