Depression and Ressurection

Many a time I´ve been asked by my mum what depression is. With such a joyous nature as hers it was extremely difficult for her to understand why her once so happy nine years old child suddenly wishes to die. Over the course of approximately eleven following years I´ve been ill with depression, I didn´t know what to answer. The change was gradual, the strange suffering, if you will, varied. The only thing that remained with me was the knowledge I yearn for nothing, only for peaceful sleep without awakening. I can´t even imagine how much of strength it took from my sister to keep me alive.

But somehow, when I unexpectedly gained a possible answer from my grandmother, it is probably the answer I cannot give to my mum. Depression, among other things, is losing your ability to love. It´s like your brain knows you love your parents, partner or friends, but actually your heart feels nothing. After all those years I can´t count how many times I´ve said "I love you" to my family, because I remembered I felt so before I "changed", yet no feeling was in me.

Then, last Christmas I felt violently sick, my body could not take it anymore. Finally I was diagnosed with depression and got medication. I was fighting back at first, the innumerable pills and therapies previous doctors prescribed me never did me any good. Then I talked with grandma, telling her for the first time what´s wrong with me. I was scared as a Cowardly Lion, because I knew grandma doesn´t believe in mental illnesses. The response I got was unbelievable. She showed me infinite support and kindness, even going as far as to pay for my medication. I guess that was the turning point that gave me hope and made me start to take the pills. First I was worse, sicker than before. And then, just before I was to leave and return to England, the miracle happened. I was with grandma again and talked with her about many things. Then she gave me a hug and I felt it. For the first time in eleven years, I felt love, so much of love it made me cry and laugh at the same time. Normally I run away from grandma´s as soon as I can. That was the plan even that time. But just as I was going to catch the bus home, I turned around, ran back and threw myself in grandma´s arms, feeling it again, the love, the gratefullness for love. And maybe for the first time in eleven years, I saw true happiness and love towards me in her eyes. It was an exquisite moment.

Before, I never paid much thought to my grandma, save for the pre-change years. Now whenever I remember her - and that is often - I feel, I really feel love. The feeling of ressurection is strange and wondrous. I´m still uncapable of loving on stabile basis, everything is extremely fragile in me. I´m scared I will lose it again when I have to stop taking the medication. But even for that fear I´m grateful - it feels like will to live.

Jacques Prevert and Edith Piaf, one way how to warm oneself up in English cold

Were I an omnipotent Queen to choose my entourage, most of it would be probably filled with Slavs when it comes to art; Italians and Chinese when it comes to cuisine; Japanese when it comes to fashion and Swiss when it comes to finance. But for a poet, I would definitely choose Frenchman.

Embrasse-moi
(Jacques Prévert, "Histoires")

C'était dans un quartier de la ville lumière
Où il fait toujours noir où il n'y a jamais d'air
Et l'hiver comme l'été là c'est toujours l'hiver
Elle était dans l'escalier
Lui à côté d'elle elle à côté de lui
C'était la nuit
Ça sentait le souffre
Car on avait tué des punaises dans l'après-midi
Et elle lui disait
Ici il fait noir
Il n'y a pas d'air
L'hiver comme l'été c'est toujours l'hiver
Le soleil du bon dieu ne brill' pas de notr' côté
Il a bien trop à faire dans les riches quartiers
Serre-moi dans tes bras
Embrasse-moi
Embrasse-moi longtemps
Embrasse-moi
Plus tard il sera trop tard
Notre vie c'est maintenant
Ici on crèv' de tout
De chaud et de froid
On gèle on étouffe
On n'a pas d'air
Si tu cessais de m'embrasser
Il me semble que j'mourais étouffée
T'as quinze ans j'en ai quinze
A nous deux on a trente
A trente ans on n'est plus des enfants
On a bien l'âge de travailler
On a bien celui de s'embrasser
Plus tard il sera trop tard
Notre vie c'est maintenant
Embrasse-moi

Antonín Dvořák, the consoler of restless soul

Born in small town in Central Bohemia called Nelahozeves, this genius of melody and depth managed to conquer the world with his powerful and sublime, yet also fragile music capable of touching the most hidden strings in our souls; touching us where we are most sensitive and vulnerable - and caressing us there. Such is the case of Rusalka, in my opinion the most beautiful of his operas, with its storyline reminiscent of Andersen's Little Mermaid. Beware Disney fans, there is no happy-end happening. Enchanting and dreamy as it is, it remains unknown to many foreign Dvořák lovers I asked; yet many famous sopranos including Renée Fleming and Anna Netrebko have sang "The Song to the Moon", so I cannot make sense of that. One more appetizer: Waterman's song

Dvořák is a healer, a natural aid for the moments you feel worst. For me this moment is right now: so lull my senses to rest, "God is my Shepherd".

About Reality

Unlike Princess Skye I do not consider the idea of Lolita escapistic in the first place; the runaway into fantasy is, in my opinion, merely an end product of difficulties the Lifestyle Lolitas have to face during their everyday lives in struggle to create a new world for themselves, as the world as it is is not the one they can accept as suitable for what and who they are. Rather than neglecting it and turning blind eyes to the let's say real world it means choosing to change and shape the unacceptable parts into something agreeable. I'm not an escapist; only my subjective reality is different than realities of most of the people.

Winter Approaches...

... and my wardrobe sorely misses something more appropriate for the cold days to come. Lolita dresses are wonderful, yet I still feel it would be better for my organism to wear something longer than the traditional knee-length during the time of freezing wind, rain and occassional snow. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, incredible as it sounds, snow sometimes does happen even in the grey and muddy country of Industrial Revolution. Without further ado, onto the projects!

1. While I have my doubts about the quality of Coppola's Dracula, it is true the Eiko Ishioka's costumes are genuinely fascinating. Yes, I'm going to copy her ideas a bit:-)
   Stage of the project: Researching
   Fabrics to be used: Topaz blue dupion silk, cotton for lining and petticoat, bustle wire, boning, silk threads for the embroidery
   


2. Who loves Princess Isabella's dresses in Braveheart, hands up! Yes, I know they aren't very historically accurate for the period and that the real Isabella was only a child when William Wallace fought the English, but no matter that, I find the dresses very inspiring. So I chose to produce a cotte and surcoat in purple/white combination, the elaborateness of them depending on how much time I will have left of the Christmas Holiday after finishing the "Mina Replica"... ideally I would like purple brocade cotte with bead embroidery on the neckline + white cotton sateen surcoat with silk heraldic embroidery. A University student needs to be properly dressed for lessons.
   Stage of the project: Researching
   Fabrics to be used: Purple brocade for cotte, white cotton sateen for surcoat, cotton for
   lining, purple beads for the neckline, silk threads for embroidery, white silk for wimple