Jeg tok fatt i telefonen og knipset noen bilder av morgenhimmelen der jeg bor idag tidlig. Vakker og full av stemning setter min kreativitet igang med å jobbe.
Hjernen min beveger seg forsiktig inn i ei novelle jeg skriver på. Denne gangen er det ikke en erotisk novelle, som jeg har skrevet mange av. Denne gangen en helt vanlig, koselig novelle med kjærlighet…eller…?
I takt med fargespillet på himmelen forvandler tankespinnet jeg har i hodet mitt til noe som blir mer håndterlig. Det begynner med mørke skygger og ofte trer ulike karakterer frem fra mørket som får sitt eget navn og blir en karakter i det jeg skriver.
Denne gangen trer en skjønn og vakker mann frem, med kornfarget hår og blåe øyne som er farlig forføreriske. Han må jeg bli bedre kjent med og prøver å finne ut av hva han gjør, hvem han er og hvordan er han egentlig, og det viktigste: hvordan skal han få plass i min novelle…
Akkurat når solen brøyter seg frem og alle fargene på himmelvelven forsvinner står både historien og mannen som kom frem tydeligere i mitt hodet.
Jeg finner frem blyant og papir. Noen ganger syns jeg det er herlig befriende å skrive på gamle måten. Av og til blir det også mere ekte for meg.
Ønsker dere alle der ute en gledelig dag, gjør den like god som du er🦋
-Orkidedatter-
//
Morning mood = creativity.
I took the phone and snapped some pictures of the morning sky where I live early in the morning. Beautiful and full of atmosphere puts my creativity into work.
My brain gently moves into a short story I am writing on. This time it is not an erotic short story that I have written many of. This time a very ordinary, nice story with love …or…?
In line with the color play in the sky, the mindset I have in my head transforms into something that becomes more manageable. It begins with dark shadows and often different characters emerge from the dark that get their own name and become a character in what I write.
This time, a beautiful and beautiful man emerges, with grain-colored hair and blue eyes that are dangerously seductive. He must be better acquainted with and try to figure out what he is doing, who he is and how is he really, and most importantly: how should he fit in my short story …
Just as the sun sets and all the colors of the sky disappear, both the story and the man who appeared more clearly in my head stand.
I find out pencil and paper. Sometimes I think it is wonderfully liberating to write in the old way. Sometimes it also becomes more real to me.
I wish everyone out there a happy day, make it as good as you are.
Alltid når jeg var mindre ble jeg og søster`n min kalt for «søstrene sisters fra de stor dype skoger». Jeg husker at jeg som var den med lyst hår ble kalt for «Huldra» også samtidig, og kom til å knuse mang en mannehjerter.
Mye mystikk rundt «huldra» og jeg lekte ofte med tanken om henne. Hvorfor kunne ikke jeg være mystisk da? Åååhh, som jeg drømte meg bort. Mann? Neida, jeg kom da aldri til å få meg no mann… jeg som var så stygg, udugelig og dum. Så jeg fortsatte å drømme…
Jeg var veldig glad i skogen og naturen når jeg var yngre også. Jeg tok meg ofte en tur i skogen alene, sanset med hele kroppen og brukte fantasien. Jeg opplevde at dyrene var like nysgjerrig på meg som jeg på dem.
Ofte var det hare, rev, ekorn eller rådyr som jeg observerte. En og annen elg var det til og med, men elgen hadde jeg veldig stor respekt for, så jeg tok stort sett beina fatt og kom meg hjem.
Jeg har respekt for de andre dyrene også, det var bare at jeg tenkte i mitt unge sinn at de kunne ikke sparke meg i hjel. Derfor ble jeg igjenn bak et tre eller en stubbe som var måsagrodd og fanget øyeblikkene med dyra.
Jeg med min rosa og hvit rutette sommerkjole med et par blonder nederst og barføtt, løp innover skogen til mitt «drømmested». På veien, selvom jeg småløp, tok jeg alltid tid til å titte på blomstene, lukte og smake. Jeg hadde lært om hva som kunne spises og ikke. Det smakte stort sett «grønt».
Mitt drømmested der jeg ble i ett med naturen og bare meg og ingen andre. Eller, hva visste jeg om det? Jeg lekte at småfolk, alver og tusser kunne se meg. Jeg følte meg fri. Frihet som en smak av fuglene, jeg kunne ligge i mosen og gresset å studere. Der de fløy høyt på himmelen…. høyt… høyt… Om bare jeg kunne også. Jeg lukket øynene og «svevde» blant fugler små og store.
She dansec to the rhythm in her heart…
Under frihetens drømmer drømte jeg at jeg kunne danse. Jeg reiste meg opp fra den grønne eng å danset som jeg aldri hadde danset før. Jeg så for meg at både alvene, småfolkene og tussene kunne se meg. Til slutt kastet de seg inn i dansen, min «Alvedans», og vi ble med ett mange. Mange som danset seg rundt trærne, stubbene, gress stråene og greinene som hang ned fra både furu, gran og bjørk. Danset i mosen slik at sporene våres satte avtrykk som kunne bli sett «her og nå». Sporene som forsiktig ble visket ut av vinden som rusket meg i det lange lyse håret som flagret vilt omkring rundt på hodet mitt. Kjolen jeg var så glad i sakte men sikkert falt på plass i det jeg stilnet og sank ned mot skogens myke «seng». Jeg lo for meg selv der jeg lå, sanset og undret.
Så utrolig herlig å føle på friheten, der ingen dømte, der ingen kunne se, der ingen visste, der ingen ville le, der ingen kunne forstyrre, der ingen hånte eller mobbet, der ingen gjorde meg «noe».
-der ingen dømte- ingen mobbet- frihet
«She dances to the songs in her head,
speaks with the rhythm of her heart,
and loves from the depths of her soul»
–Dean Jackson–
-orkidedatter-
//
The Elfdance.
Whenever I was less I and my sister and I were called «sisters from the great deep forests». I remember being the one with bright hair called «Hollow» at the same time, and came to crush a lot of men`s hearts.
Much mystery around «Hollowing» and I often played With her thought. Why couldn`t I be mysterious then? Ohhhh, as I dreamed away. A man? Oh no, I never came to get me no man…I was so ugly, inept and stupid. So I continued to dream…
I was very fond of the forest and nature whwn I was younger as well. I often took a walk in the Woods alone, sensed With the Whole body and used the imagination. I experienced that the animals were just as curiose about me as I was on them.
Often I saw hare, fox, squirrel or deer. Sometimes moose was there, but the moose I had great respect for, so I mostly took my legs and got home.
I have respect for the other animals too, it was just that I thought in my Young mind that they could not kick me to Death. Therefore, I was walking behind a tree or a stump that was seagull and caugth the moments With expensive.
I With my pink and white regular summer dress With a pair of lace at the bottom and barefoot, ran into the forest to my «dream Place». On the way, even though I was a little run, I always took time to lokk at the flowers, smell and taste. I had learned about what could be eaten and not. It tasted mostly «green».
My dream place where I become one With nature and just me and no one else. Or, what did I know about it? I was playing that small People, elves and thugs could see me. I felt free. Freedom as a taste of the birds, I could lie in the bog and grass to study. Where they flew high in the sky…loud…loud…If only I could. I Close my eyes and «hovered» among birds, small and large.
During the dreams of freedom I dreamed that I could Dance. I got up from the green Meadow to Dance that I had never danced before. I saw for myself that both the elves, the little People and the tits could see me. In the end they threw themselves into the Dance, my «Elfdance», and we joined one many.
Many who danced around the trees, the stumps, the grass Straws and the brances that hung down from both pine, spruce and Birch. Danced in the marsh so that Our tracks made imprints that could be seen «here and now».
The tracks that were gently wiped out of the Wind that shook me in the long Bright hair that fluttered wildly around my head. The dress I was so found of slowly but surely fell into place that I stopped and sank Down to the soft «bed» of the forest. I laughed at myself where I lay, sensed and wondered.
So incredibly wonderful to feel the freedom, where no one judged, where no one could see, where no one knew, where no one would laugh, where no one could disturb, where no one mocked or bullied, where no one made me «something».
I`m so incredibly appreciated by all my followers and readers out there in every corner of the world. I am so grateful and can’t thank you enough. I posted this post a few days ago and I got lovely respons, and I want to share this in English. This is written from the depths of my soul and from my heart.
Having experienced and experienced a trip to the «Abyss» that I call it – and still working my way up to be as healthy as I can, many thoughts and feelings have been through my heart and my head. Someone I can pass on, others I have to learn to live with.
I have often thought of this with mental health and fear in the soul and emotional breakdown. In relation to this with physical pain, such as: a bone fracture. If I could choose, the choice would not have been so difficult, I would have chosen a bone fracture. Physical pain goes over and the body heals itself, you get well again ….
Why can’t it be that way with the psychic pain? … I can have patience with a physical wound and wait, it’s over. My mental pain has no waiting time. I’ve been waiting long enough, trying to trick my mind, but no. The wounds in the heart are still there and linked with me – emotional thoughts and emotions. A heart full of sorrow because of my time here on earth and what it has given me. Grief over my «luggage» from childhood, adolescence and adulthood. Where my emotional pain in my broken heart evokes anxiety that looks for places of refuge in nooks and crannies inside my body where it can germinate and grow with pace with both depressed and destructive thoughts that bring with it an emotional burst that gets tougher.
I often feel «trapped». «Caught» because I stopped living and do not give myself my own freedom. I have become «blind» and stuck to a «dead end». I live in the «shadow of myself». I deceive myself because my heart is hurting – it’s broken over the years – I just didn’t understand it until now.
Starting with «blank sheets» is not easy, but no one has told me that life is easy, just because someone is more fortunate than others. I must accept the cold reality. There are no more acts or chapters in this life. I go back to the beginning as far as I can. Try to erase or erase parts of my life. It is not possible, but I try to make the bad memories smaller and weaker and that they do not control me. The process is bad, but I do not want the «shadows» from the past …
My «shadows» from the past tell me
-you don’t deserve love-
-you will never be happy again-
-You ruin everything you take in-
-you don’t deserve others to love you-
– this broken heart will forever be there and your pain will be unbearable –
– when you find happiness «the» must be empty
and so it goes on …..
My broken heart, I have begun to push together again. It gets many scars, big scars, but ultimately not open wounds, but it gets me back, but life doesn’t get the same. What is broken is never the same again. It will always have cracks. I can «paint» over so it’s not visible on the outside.
As a butterfly I grow and change and hope I find my true colors in life, a new meaning of quality of life that finds my fragile «wings» and I can «fly» and soon, just soon, be on the right path …
I’ve started to «fly» a little …
-orkidedatter-
Thank you very much to my family, especially my husband and my son❤️
Orkidèdatter 