(This post is only in English)
In the mountains far in the big wide tundra she feels small. If Mother Earth decides to shake a little, she has no other choice to join in on what’s happening and let fate determine the outcome.
She sees so far the eye can reach, and the sun shines from the most beautiful blue sky. With paper and pencil she has next to her, she lays down in the snow.
She makes a snow angel … and embraces herself with the energy of nature.
The blue sky reminds her that there is no end, nor any start up there, but a whole eternity. She closes her eyes and feels.
Feeling the force of her heartbeat and her Viking blood running in her vains.
Her blood bubbles and she can feel the presence of something she doesn’t know.
Only her imagination can put an end to her dreams ..
Music notes appear as a movie in her head. Every note has its sound, every sound has its picture and every picture gives her a word …
Where the ancestors have settled from the old times it gives her roots from a time she has not seen, but which she can only feel.
The meditation helps her to sense the nature and it feels like home.
Far down there she can hear the sound of Norway’s longest river. It crumbles, rush and flows like in a rosewood thirst for water.
At the end of the long miles it runs into the ocean and becomes one with the world.
She feels lucky to experience this. It smells like winter and spring. A summer mood at the bottom of the river where withered leaves turns into grass and moss.
Where the little sprouts of the trees and flowers are fighting for life to flourish. Everything will come to life after King Winter’s farewell.
She’s finished now, and thanks her spirit and soul, and thanks Mother Earth for this time. She knows she’s coming back in the summer. With a hope to flourish like the mountain in hope and faith.
At home in the sunset, she is grateful. She writes it down in a book she calls «Orchid Garden». Here she fills up the blank sheets with positive things and experiences.
She sits quietly until the sun has gone completely down. She can still feel the warmth of the sunset that spreads her colors around the world with a prayer to all of us for love.
In the sunrise the next morning there is a new day …
It’s quiet, only the birds that chirp a jolly song break the silence. Only the trees in her garden whiz a gently good morning and flutter with their big branches so her hair flutters.
She always has pen and paper with her, and this time she writes the notes in her mind in the form of a poem and she has her paint brush and colors ready.
What turns into life in her drawing book will she discover soon…