Nine Months

Five without putting any weight on my leg.
Four now learning to walk again.

Yesterday I left my crutches at home for the first time.

No, I don't quite walk yet.
There is pain.
There is swelling.
But I'm taking steps.

And I've realized that there is now another monthly date in my calendar. The 4th because it is the date I had my first date with my husband and I still count every month, soon 212.

And the 26th because it is the date I was injured.

Drawings: Travel Sketches

                                Pikkulepinkäinen
                                (taustalla ruskosuohaukka)
                                Kuusi, Siuntio 21.7.2016

                     Kiikala, Salo 9.7.2016

                      Vanha Porvoo 30.6.2016

                                Merikotka
                                Täcktomintie, Hanko 21.6.2016

Close to Oneself

How is it that one can be so close to oneself only when one is hurting so much that everything else in the world disappears?

Any external constructions flush away with tears, dropped off miles ago on the side of the road, deemed too heavy to carry. Barefoot on the harsh ground.

Former forged expressions forgotten in emptiness, developed at last into insignificance. Depression painting the whole landscape with quickly evaporating water.

Alone, likewise, having lost it's meaning when everything else is gone. Inside and outside turning out – and in – to be just the same naked thing.

Just this one moment now as hope is gone, the future forgotten, the past broken into unreal unreachable dreams. The pain blossoming in you, so vibrant and alive, forgiving, allencompassing. Present. You.