a quiet passion, 2016

a quiet passion, 2016

– emily. why are you up so late?
– may i speak with you, father?
– of course.
– as you may know, i like to write. letters, mostly… but sometimes poetry.
– yes.
– may i have your permission to write during the night, for quiet’s sake? i shall not disrupt the rest of the household, i promise.
– yes, you may. it was very considerate of you to ask.
– it is your house, father.
– but it is our home, emily.

i’m boggled at how much it echoes with me and because of that i haven’t watched it fully yet. it’s way beyond poetry, even though the poetry covers all the emotions and all kinds of states. and i can not fail to mention the secret forest plant i discovered just few years ago, pale forest creature, neither a flower nor the mushroom, the ghost pipe. it’s very dear to me.

during the walks i usually do have weird rhymes in my head all the time, but since recently there’s plenty more, and now, sometimes, i dare to save them on paper.. am i saying this correctly? with the words of my second non-native language? returning to the nature and plants, here is a little observation.. i found a leaf of coltsfoot and to my surprise the other side, white one – stepmother’s side was as tender and silky by touch as the green, mother’s.

there is a hope…

fascinated by cynthia nixon’s emotional performance. enormously loud quietness. thank you.


after watching few scenes and a long absence in the white room, these earrings were created, accompanied by a tiny poem about them. yes, they were intended to her! and you. for those, whose lives go vividly, restless, deep inside.

28 days, 2000

‘it looks like somewhere out in the middle of nowhere.’


не знаю, был ли у меня такой период, после которого исправилась.

phantom thread, 2017

‘i never really liked myself. i thought my.. shoulders were too wide. my neck was skinny like a bird. that i had no breasts. i felt my.. hips were larger than needed. and my arms strong…’ i feel serene when someone feels the same way of oneself i feel about myself. is that what it is?

‘flemish bobbin lace from the late 1600s. it’s very rare, very precious. i rescued it from antwerp during the war. i’ve been waiting for the right moment to.. to make something with it. hold it…’ colours, fabrics and laces, yes. precious, unnatural…

and the mushroom scenes.

‘before the gills lose their pale colour they are in their prime for culinary purposes, and should be wiped clean from sand, and committed to the tender mercies of the cook.’ (about inky mushroom. from the same book, below)

mushroom brush made me think of lactarius deliciosus (all in sand and soil in it’s gills), which can be eaten raw, with salt and black pepper, right there, in the forest. ‘the present species only grows under fir-trees, somewhat earlier than the general crop of fungi, being in greatest plenty about august or early in september. it is firm and solid in texture, with a very short stem, so that the cap is close to the ground, about two or three inches in diameter, pale brick-red, with a tinge of orange, usually marked with darker zones; the centre of the cap is depressed, and the margins curved inwards. the whole plant abounds with an orange milk, which exudes when cut or wounded, and on exposure soon turns green, so that the fungus appears to be stained green. there is no other fungus possessing an orange milk which becomes green…’ what a language!

but the question is this. why does she read about yellow-stainer (psalliota xanthoderma) and then, suddenly comparing big jack-o’-lantern mushroom (omphalotus olearius) to milk mushroom in the book? alma, alma… twisted and dangerous. i let it go and really enjoyed the details. thimble and tiny spoon, drop earrings, rustic grater.

and this old book from the movie to remember. ‘edible and poisonous mushrooms: what to eat and what to avoid’, m.c. cooke, 1894. the description (at the third photo above) is about bitter boletus. the full text is here and original pages with the coloured plates are here!