-weekend miser-

A trip out of town to escape from the crowds led us to the quaint place of Plzen, CZ. Usually packed with people we felt free from the chorus of tourist that roam the streets in Prague, and it was peaceful to step out in the smaller area for once. After the treat of liquid gold, we wandered to the center of town for food and pictures. Still wondering in mind, we stumbled under the arches our where the roses grow. Itching for more pictures we looked for interesting people, but all I could think was how I wanted to pick the flowers from their stems. On the benches were people doing what I longed for; resting. Reading books and papers, with loved ones and children, not a care in the world for time. Me on a schedule, I didn’t have this leisure but how I thought, that this would be a good place for a care-free weekend. The fair of food and rides just on the other side, but away from the masses was the garden of roses where the petals floated to the sidewalk. A good spot for an hour to spare, or a few seconds to yourself, it was a place to restart my thinking. It’s nice to find comfortable places in foreign lands, no matter the time you had or wish you’d have. The rose garden is a place to visit on a weekend, weekday, or for passing seconds just to recollect your being.

“Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future,
And time future contained in time past.
If all time is eternally present
All time is unredeemable.
What might have been is an abstraction
Remaining a perpetual possibility
Only in a world of speculation.
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.
Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened
Into the rose-garden.”

-Burnt Norton by T.S. Eliot

-a thousand words-

A wall of art name for a great Beatle, who went on to spark a revolution. Make love not war, was their motto during an era that was cold. There stood a singer in the streets who plays for a new peace, with the same message asking us to imagine the world John Lennon sang about. Like a preacher at the pulpit, we all sat and listened singing along, “so the world can live as one.” A contagious tune that all had us swaying, sparking in me a fire that made me want to make a difference. It felt to me like a small community of people who cared and respected one another’s art. So often it’s hard to find these days in a world that can be unwelcoming. This scene was a gentle reminder that “living for today” is what I need to keep me inspired. This little stretch of wall was a collaboration of art galore. Imagine the things John Lennon would say today, about the memorials placed around the world for him. Even more, what would he say to the campaign to end wars and make peace like he once advocated for? Who knew one man, one mission, and one song would make us think on this all. The man from England who moves us all to sing “all you need is love” and mean it.

“Imagine all the people living life in peace, you
You may say I’m a dreamer
But I’m not the only one
I hope some day you’ll join us
And the world will be as one”

-John Lennon

-around here-

A religion. A race. For thousands of years, they’ve been persecuted with hate. Blamed and target with flames and destruction, but still, some places stand against the war machines. A place of pilgrimage, when Jerusalem was too far, the city was home to many near and far. The oldest synagogue in the world, a place that has stood the test of time. Many people walk around these places of worship. I in tears as I saw the names of those who are no longer with us. These synagogues home to many in the Jewish religion, I felt weird that it was now a museum where many wandered these sacred places. Fearful of taking pictures, I snuck in a few, although the rooms were dark, the people were all struck with peace, and the artifacts were the ones that shone through. Perfectly preserved they stare back in their glass cases, like the graves of a cemetery they now just memorialize something no longer living. I was a museum living. Carrying around the legacy of these people by remembering that they suffered. Time so far removed, but something is empowering to think it still stands after trying to be wiped out. This small Jewish quarter, the city’s star that always shines above is just a sliver of a community worldwide; it’s a star amongst millions in the Milky way.

“Inside the brand-new museum
there’s an old synagogue.
Inside the synagogue
is me.
Inside me
my heart.
Inside my heart
a museum.
Inside the museum
a synagogue,
inside it
me,
inside me
my heart,
inside my heart
a museum”

-Yehuda Amichai

-noticed-

Into the garden of mazes, we go, and in the midst a worker alone. Masses of tourist and groups of kids looking at the Parliament building, and there she stood to tend to the soil, not bothered by anyone around her. Everyone looking past her, but she was in her own little world. She made it seem like it wasn’t a job, just something she does for fun. She took her time and spent it wise digging and placing things neatly where they belonged. Like an artist working on her painting, every detail was particular. I couldn’t help but pin her as the center of a canvas, a small aspect important to the people around her. Without her work, this place would be in shambles, for a garden unattended can overgrow too quick. The role of the gardener is patient, almost as if she were raising a kid. Her attentiveness was inviting you could tell that she cared. It made me feel safe in the garden because it is well kept. So this place became an escape, an oasis, even though the crowds were many. The gardener is the mother of the garden, though her job may seem small, her role is great. Keeping the plants maintained her work is welcoming as is says, “come to my garden, everyone, no matter how big or small.”

“Come to my garden.
Rest there in my arms.
There I’ll see you
Safely grown and on your way.
Stay there in the garden,
Where love grows free and wild.
Come to my garden.
Come, sweet child.“

-The Secret Garden Musical

-a thousand words-

The fall of the Berlin Wall marked a time in history that meant freedom for many. The months leading up saw hundreds of East Germans on the West German Embassy’s lawn in Prague, waiting to hear if they’d be able to cross or not. Leaving all behind, they rushed past border lines, when they heard they were free to go. Cars abandoned and little on their backs just happy to go to live in the west. Picture the scene, all these tiny German cars lining Prague streets, just deserted for whoever was left. So stands this replica of the Wall and photos of the events in this garden of love. Some 30 years later and the Wall is still remembered. Set up all over the world as a warning to not do this again. Young and old stop to learn and remember this time when people were desperate. For history shouldn’t repeat itself, but these problems still arise. On display, these photographs are in a place as tourist weave through, I sat and watched them all. A place that I need to go back to and read all the plaques, to learn from this moment in history. We take it for granted, it’s a block of stone, but to those thousands, it was a prison. There may come a day where the wall will rise again, where we learn we never truly learned from all these exhibits. Look and remember, the photographs and the wall that the people stood behind waiting. Once the gate was finally open, they were free from being imprisoned. No longer behind the iron curtain, no longer dreaming of jumping the wall. Just a piece of history in museums that we all now gaze at.

“Before too long the wall came down,
Imprisoned people finally free.
Now we hear the joyous sound
Of a united Germany.
Let us each vow today
To never let a future wall
Ever get in Freedom’s way
Or try to silence Freedom’s call.“

-The Fall of the Berlin Wall

-location notations-

On a hike up a steep hill of steps, we came across two lovers on a ledge. A look out over Prague but they gazed in one another’s eyes instead. However, I couldn’t help but see the city shine just beyond them. Coming forward alone, to the couple of two, I hesitantly took a picture but wished it was me posing in front of the view. A city full of lovers all kissing where ever they go, and this particular one on a ledge with a picturesque view to bask in, yet they don’t seem to notice. I noticed the river and bridge, with the peak of Petřín Lookout far in the distance. Although, there they sat as gargoyles do on buildings, perked up and posing but too in love to notice. Up to Vyšehrad Cemetery, I continued to trek, for the lovers made me sad I also was not seeing the city in someone else’s eyes. However, looking at this photo, I realize I shouldn’t think so. I am in love with the city, the background, the backdrop. So the lovers on a ledge taught me today, that the town that sits below, it gazes back at me.

“So reckless and carefree
Oh those times long gone
Giant leaps over seas
Simple pleasures were won
In that fine young city
Where I dared to call home
A new friendship was born
As my heart begged to roam“

-Beauty on a Balcony

-morning glories-

The streets of Prague, soon after daylight comes, are empty and calm. The people of the town who run the shops are getting ready to open up around Old Town. Past the cobblestones that will soon meet the feet of tourist crowds is the river below the King Charles bridge. A lone fisherman on his boat bobbing in the light waves from the morning winds. He’s a stranger to me, is this a hobby or his job to catch daily? Either way, he knows his place and knows his peace before the city bustles with people like me. A tourist spot so famous it still sees folks at dawn, but the morning is the time for the locals to enjoy the calm. So the man gets to fish in peace for a bit. Dawn breaks at 4:30, but he doesn’t seem to mind how early it is. He has cast his line and tied up his boat at a spot near the bridge. How tranquil it all is as swans float by with cygnets at their side. The water sways almost as if to a song, and I can’t help but wonder why all sleep when this beauty is outside their door. So I learned a lesson from the fisherman at morning break, to get out and see the wonders no matter how simple, even if it means getting up a little early.

From the river’s plashy bank,
Where the sedge grows green and rank,
And the twisted woodbine springs,
Upward speeds the morning lark
To its silver cloud — and hark!
On his way the woodman sings.

-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

-small wonders-

The caravans were nowhere near, but a carriage still carried two Roma princesses as they led the parade. Flowers crowns atop their curls and their silky skirts that they showed off to the world. Behind them a sea of color and a people full of pride, you’d never guess the hardship that lied in their cultures storyline. A people on the move, they danced their way in the streets, no derogatory slang slung their way. Finally free so it seems and welcoming for all to partake in the celebration they’ve always displayed. The parade saw all ages, but the younger crowd shone through. Little ones were walking and dancing along with the older ones who taught them where to go. They pass on traditions that are centuries long and share it in their smiles as they show off their culture to the onlooking crowd. Young girls in traditional dresses, proud to show off their dancing and fashion. For they are the face of a new generation and one that will carry on their race with a proper name and representation. Dresses were flowing like the flags that represent their people in all parts of the world. Gathered in one square to celebrate openly, not away as they’ve previously been before. In their eyes is a new horizon, a hope that’s always been. The eyes of the Roma princesses front and center to guide them all.

“When a Romani caravan arrives
there, on the riverbank,
in a green field and under the sky
nature itself comes alive.
When the tents have been erected
and the horses are grazing freely,
barefoot
they run between the trees,
together the Roma sing in the heart
of the forest.“

-Luminita Mihai Cioba

-noticed-

Czech fashion is best seen in the city of Prague. Not only is the city full of different styles and cultures, but they all take part in the fashion world. From fashion week to the streets, designer clothes and thrift shop gold make the city glow. Every person is unique and contributes to the scene, especially at The Address Idea on října street in Prague. Their passion is for vintage, and local designs at their store Enter The Address, a project by Eugenio Bramerini. Their philosophy is “Each of us is born unique, and so it should remain” making their store a lifestyle, not just a name. They take care of their customers and help you to develop your style as it best fits you, offering personalization and a staff ready to work. Designers work in the store as well, on the top floor where the sewing machines also act as decor. Tending to customers, they make sure you are happy with what you own. They make strides in the fashion scene, making you number one, not trends or brand names. They bring you quality and originality in everything they do. The atmosphere is more like an experience, and one you can only get here. Their goal is you take their philosophy with you and emit positivity and uniqueness into the world. In a touristy town and a world full of millions, you should stand out, and that is their goal, their fashion philosophy.

“Have respect for everyone and everything you do.
Be curious. Develop.
The price of every obstacle that comes in your way.
Work hard.
Believe yourself and weigh yourself and everything will be possible.
This is our philosophy.”

-The Address Idea

-not from these parts-

In a crowd of thousands, it’s hard not to get lost, as people from near and far gather on Charles Bridge in Prague. Tourists clutter the pedestrian bridge and take in its many attributes as one of the most visited spots in the city. By day the bridge is met with thousands of footsteps from all walks of life, bombarding the street as they discover what it has to offer. Artists line the sides with paintings, jewelry, and songs all adding to the ambiance as they welcome guests with a Czech experience. Pictures are clicking amid the music as the people set out to capture the magic that the bridge emits. However, it doesn’t distract the masses who are there to take in the view of the city divided by a river. Crossing the bridge from Old Town to New, you cross paths with many others. You gain a new sense of self by participating in history and contribute yourself to the experience of life in the city. As the bridge has crossed many centuries, 677 years to be exact, your steps become one in a million, just minuscule as you share a part in the history of it. At night the traffic slows as fewer and fewer walk across, but even as it empties, the bridge radiates with wonder. The sun will rise, and tourist will clutter it again, all gaining something new while crossing a bridge.

Maybe we’re sharing
This beautiful night
Me on the left bank
You on the right
Almost in sight…
Crossing a bridge

– Anastasia the Musical