What I Dreamed About in the Quiet Room in the Attic

28 Jul

I have come to the quiet room in the attic to write. It smells of books and old wallpaper, and I feel as if I am in my own private library. The desk is directly underneath the window and I gaze sleepily at the shimmering leaves of the giant trees in front of the house. There is a strong wind today and, despite being discontented about yet another grey day, I am soothed by the soft whisperings of the birches.

Apart from a desk and a bookshelf, the room has nothing to distract attention. No-one passes through here and it will be a while until the others realise where I am. I have all the time in the world. I prop my head up with my hands and dream out of the window.

The pine tree is covered in tiny drops of rain, which it has not managed to shake off with the wind. The small birch is waving frantically at its elder, who is so tall and elegant, that only her head and shoulders show sign of movement. The fir tree, with its three-meter branches, is still; its peaceful breathing suggests that it is at rest.

I observe these friends; we have known each other since childhood and I have got so used to seeing them that I no longer pay much attention to them.

I get up from the desk and walk over to the bookshelf, on which a random collection of books has been growing for the past fifty years. History, art, fiction, crime, biography, and even a stamp collection, can be found here, all with yellowing pages and fading covers. One book catches my attention and I take it off the shelf: Matilda Kshesinskaya – Memoirs. I was thinking about her only last week, funny how I should discover her autobiography in the quiet room of my family home.

I look at photos of Matilda in her various dance roles, and my thoughts wander over ballerinas and their hard work and discipline. Over their perseverance, their talent and their elegance. Over their strength of character, their mysteriousness and their beauty. They possess a wealth of exemplary qualities and, as I flick through the pages and bring my nose closer to the paper to inhale the smell of this old book, I remember a quote that I once read and have never forgotten:

“God gives talent. Work transforms talent into genius.”
~ Anna Pavolva

One day, perhaps, I will have the wisdom of a ballerina…

6 Responses to “What I Dreamed About in the Quiet Room in the Attic”

  1. Thomas Ross 28/07/2012 at 19:44 #

    Defining good writing is hard. But sometimes you find an example that shows what it truly is. I found such an example today in your post.

    You are a remarkable talent.


    • l0ve0utl0ud 31/07/2012 at 14:23 #

      Thank you so much for your kind words – I feel truly honoured by your comment!

  2. Patricia 28/07/2012 at 20:03 #

    I love days of quiet contemplation. How wonderful that you have a hide-away place where you can go and dream.

    • l0ve0utl0ud 31/07/2012 at 14:24 #

      Yes, I love that quiet room! I go to my family home once a year, but I love spending even just a morning alone dreaming!

  3. toemailer 30/07/2012 at 03:37 #

    We appreciate the time and energy it takes to run a good blog and so we have nominated you for the One Lovely Blog Award!
    We would be honored if you accept this award!

    • l0ve0utl0ud 31/07/2012 at 14:28 #

      Thank you so much for this truly lovely award! I feel very honoured and grateful!

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