Since today celebrates my poet friend, we stop the regular posting and look back at the day when I saw him last. Certain doors are waiting to be showed from that day as if they knew today would be Thursday.
Whenever I’m in Slovenia we manage to get together at least once, and I appreciate this. This was our last meeting.
I have showed photos from this day on my blog before but there are certain doors waiting to make their first appearance and certain church door that wishes to be repeated.
Dear Aleš, I wish you a nice celebration, good health to you and your girls, good mood, good words and good friends.
In my blogging memories at the end of the post you will find previous birthday posts. You can click on the photos and be transported there.
And now a poem about how we got to be:
21-10-21 We met late, even though at our Faculty of Arts you were a rare male colleague and we shared professors of English and classrooms and exams, even, without exchanging a sentence. You always looked positively unapproachable. Maybe I did too. Only after the studies were gone we learned that it was not so, that we knew how to have fun, just that you favoured Romania over my California. I visited you in Bucharest twice. The first thing you did as I entered your apartment was turn around the newspaper on the table so that I couldn’t see the corpse on the cover. And on return I was thrown off the train on the border with Hungary and guarded with a machine gun. And now the reversible day is here and you are already how old? And your daughter is already how old?? I’m not in California but much farther than Bežigrad, and even Bestia is eight which is how long I’ve been gone. And you are a poet. And the crown takes over the crowd.
This day in my blogging history
2015: You know what children, artists and madmen have in common: they know that everything in this world happens for the first time. There are no repeat performances. —Vitomil Zupan