Mil días en Venecia.

“Conocí a un hombre que decía: Algunas personas maduran y otras se pudren. Algunas veces crecemos, pero no cambiamos jamás. No podemos. Nadie cambia. Somos como somos, y nadie puede cambiar a nadie, ni si quiera a sí mismo.”

Mil días en Venecia; Marlena de Blasi

Dalià♥

Alla mina bästa år♥A fairytale life|How to fall in love (Part 1)

-Wow, you are… Beautiful.

Frida smiled, and noted how her face turned red.

She was dressed in a short green dress, with a lace on its waist.

Her hair was falling on her shoulders, hiding the pearl earrings. She had put a little make up,, only a little rimmel and a bit of lipstick.

-Thank you so much.-she answered-You’re handsome too.

They smiled, and entered in his car.

He took her to the best Italian restaurant of the city, “Luigi’s”

-Have you ever been here, Frida?-he asked, opening the door gently.

-No, no. I haven’t been to any Italian restaurant, actually.

-So, it’s the time for you to taste the best food in the world.

She smiled.

-White wine, please.

-I’ll have water, thank you.

The mêtre went away, leaving them alone.

-Well, Frida, I’m sure I’m not wrong if I say that we do not know each other much.

-You’re not.-she said, with a tiny smile.

-What are your likes?

-Well, I like music, as you can imagine…she started- Jazz mainly. I also enjoy reading and dancing, and, well, nature. And you?

-I like cinema, and reading, nothing special. Do you…-he doubted- Do you have a boyfriend?

She seemed surprised at first, but then relaxed. In some way, she knew he would make that question.

-Well, not really… No, I don’t. Do you? Well, of course you have…

-No, you’re wrong. There was something not long ago, but… It finished, because I met somebody.

Frida looked at him, with her mouth lightly opened and without breathing, when the mêtre arrived with the first place.

She didn’t know what she was about to say.

Actually, she didn’t know what was she was supposed to say during the whole evening. She had no idea.

 Dalià♥

Summertime.

¡FELIZ VERANO!

Dalià♥

MLS62.

Hoy, se cumplen 62 años del nacimiento de una mujer, de una gran mujer.

Una mujer dulce, cariñosa, humilde, bella, talentosa, buena madre. En resumen, una mujer maravillosa.

La mujer de la que hablo no va de diva, ni presume de ese don que se le ha dado. Es bella; es maravillosa. Pero también es humilde, algo que muchas otras no son.

Pero es que ella… Es única.

Hoy, se cumplen 62 años del nacimiento de Mary Louise Streep.

Y sólo puedo decir…

Gracias.

Gracias por ser como eres, gracias por sonreír cada día, gracias por todo.

Gracias por existir, querida Meryl.

Thank you very much.

PD: Esta entrada está publicada con retraso, el cumpleaños de Meryl fue ayer, pero no pude publicarlo. ;)

Dalià♥

Un último vals

-Es la hora.


Ágata esbozó una sonrisa amarga, y bajo la vista al suelo de la estación.

Las despedidas no eran lo suyo, y menos si se trataba de él. No se volverían a ver en meses, tal vez años; años en los que lamentaría su marcha con cada cosa que hiciera. Muchas veces se preguntaba si su amor lo superaría, si sería lo bastante fuerte como para no rendirse y casarse con un niño bien. Se preguntaba si merecería la pena malgastar los mejores años de su vida esperando a que volviera de la guerra; tal vez esperando en vano.

Pero todas las dudas quedaban disipadas con el siguiente beso.



Fernando la tomó entre sus brazos. No le gustaba que llorara, y menos que lo hiciera sola. No había querido tanto a nadie en toda su vida, y le costaba separarse de ella tanto como le hubiera costado renunciar al agua. Aunque, si hubiera sido necesario, lo hubiese hecho.

Pasarían años hasta que pudiera volver a tocarla, hasta que pudiera volver a mirar a sus ojos de color miel. Pasarían años hasta que al fin pudieran casarse, hasta que pudieran tener hijos y, al fin, ser felices.

Cientos de veces había pensado en decirle a Ágata que se acabó, que no merecía la pena esperar tanto tiempo a que volviera de una guerra que no sabía cuando iba a acabar, de una guerra de la que ni siquiera sabía si volvería vivo.

Pero se volvía incapaz cuando veía una de sus sonrisas.



-¿Volveré a verte?

-No lo sé.-respondió él, acariciando su pelo- La verdad es que no sé nada. Ni siquiera sé si podré soportarlo.

Volvieron a abrazarse, pero el revisor del tren los separó.

-Última llamada. Será mejor que suba.

Fernando se cargó el equipaje en la espalda. Tomó a Ágata por la cintura, y la besó, para escándalo de las demás mujeres en la estación.

-Te quiero, Ágata.

-Yo te quiero; te adoro. Venga, vete ya. No quiero que te ocurra nada por mi culpa.

Ágata sacó el delicado pañuelo que le había regalado Fernando el día que se habían prometido, y lo sacudió en el aire.

Mientras miraba como el tren se alejaba, comenzó a llorar, esta vez en serio, esta vez a gritos.

Tenía el presentimiento de que nunca volvería a verle con vida.





Dalià♥

A vista de pájaro.

-¿Qué se sentirá al volar?


Era un día nublado, pero se la podía observar con claridad.

La golondrina planeaba sobre ella, que leía una novela sentada en el balcón.

Detuvo su lectura para mirar, ensimismada, al pájaro que sobrevolaba la casa.

Poco a poco, cerró los ojos, y se imaginó a sí misma en el lugar de la golondrina.

Sintió como la brisa comenzaba a golpearle el rostro, y se dejó llevar.

Recorrió sus ciudades soñadas, aquellas que narraban los libros: de las gárgolas de Notre Dame al canal de Venecia, pasando por el Big Ben y las montañas de Escocia.

Recorrió su imaginación, y encontró en sus más profundos recobecos las maravillas más maravillosas, las fantasías más fantasiosas.



Una fuerte ráfaga de viento la despertó de sus ensoñaciones.

La doncella alzó la vista.

Allí seguía, majestuosa y libre, la golondrina.

La dama de celeste suspiró, cerró su novela y volvió al calor del hogar, donde la rutina la esperaba, alejándola de su mente, ansiosa de libertad.

 
 
 
 
Dalià♥

Alla mina bästa år♥A fairytale life|The game is on again

-Hello?

Frida entered in the house quietly, hoping with all her heart her grandmother wasn’t there.

-In the kitchen!.-Agny shouted from the other part of the house.

She walked along the house, nervous.

-Eem, mamma… Can I ask you something?

-Sure. What is it about?-she answered, while putting some more flour in the mass of the bread.

-Well…Can I go out…Tonight?

Frida was confused. Ragnar Frediksson , the guy that played the trumpet in the band, had been extremely sweet and nice to her since she had started in the “Anni Frid Four”, as they had decided to rename the band.

She was flattered, of course, as she liked him a lot.

But that afternoon, when he had asked her to go out, she hadn’t known what to answer.

She wanted to say “yes”, of course, but she was afraid of her grandmother’s reaction. She was always so categorical with men… And all of that because her daughter’s love story had ended awfully.

“And what if?”, always thought  Frida, “I’m not my mother, that won’t happen again.”

But, anyway, she didn’t want to discuss with her grandmother. She was the only one that she had in life, she didn’t want to lose her…

-With who?-said Agny.

-With one of my band partners, Ragnar.

Agny stopped, and looked at her:

-Ragnar? How old is he?

-21, mamma. I can assure you he only wants to be my friend, he has always been so nice to me and…

-Anni-Frid-she said-What do I always tell you about men?

-I know, mamma, but he’s not…

-How far you’ve known him?

-A pair of weeks, but…

-Let me finish. Do you think that two weeks are enough for knowing a person?

-Not really.- Frida answered, in a low voice.

-So, I’ll tell you what I always tell. You’re beautiful, you’re talented, you’re young. How can you be so sure that he only wants to be your friend?

-And what if he wants to be more than a friend?-she answered, starting feeling angry-I’m 15, almost 16, mamma! Do you want me to be alone forever?

-No, my darling.- Agny said, going closer to her granddaughter-I only want you to be careful, I don’t want the story to be repeated again…

-But it won’t, mamma. Please… Don’t be like that, I just want to be happy.-she answered, with a sight.

-I know, Anni-Frid. But do you think he…?

-Yes, mamma. I like him, I like him very much. And I think he likes me too. I don’t want to call this love, but… I feel how butterflies fly in my stomach, I feel very warm when I’m with him. Mamma, please…

-Well…Ok. But you must be here at eleven o’clock, not a minute after!

-Sure, sure, sure! I’ll call him right now. Thank you!

She kissed Agny’s cheek and ran to her bedroom.

Agny continued making the bread.

Since the day Anni-Frid had decided to stay in Eskilstuna, they’re relation had turned into a real grandmother-granddaughter relation, and she had stopped seeing her as a child. And now, the first love had arrived…

“I hope the game is not on again”, she thought, “I hope…”

 Dalià♥

Alla mina bästa år♥A fairytale life|No regrets

-Hello, my name is Anni-Frid Lyngstad, and I’m going to sing “Fever”.

Frida started singing, and Patrick, Harry, Ragnar and Anders smiled. They had found the perfect girl.



After leaving her friends on their way to Stockholm, Frida started searching for a new band. She still wanted to be successful, and, while she could, she had to continue practicing.

She had talked with Agny profusely, and they had decided that she would stay there in Eskilstuna, but she could also continue with her musical career. Their relationship had become stronger after all the deep feelings they had told to each other in the many fights they had have during that period of time, and now they felt as grandmother and granddaughter for the real first time.



-So, how has it been?-she asked, timidly, after the performance.

-Brava, Anni-Frid, bravissima.-said Anders-We must listen to the other girls, of course, but I think you’re the winner. Tough the price is not as big as your talent…

-Oh, no, no! I’m very proud of having the chance of being part of a group, really. And as I’ve listened to you play, I think you’re very good, so that’s perfect.-she smiled, sweetly-Oh, and please call me Frida.

-Thank you very much, Anni-Frid. Well, Frida. It’s probable we’ll call you later, not many girls are in the queue, are they?

-No, no.-she said- Maybe five or six, I think. Thanks again.

-Thanks to you, and thanks to God for giving you that voice.-said Ragnar-We’ll call you later, but now we must continue with the casting. Can you please tell the next girl to come?

-Sure. Goodbye.-she said.

She told the next girl, a blue-eyed blonde girl, to pass, and she took the way home.

She walked slowly, thinking about herself.

She didn’t regret the decision of staying there, at Eskilstuna, but… Had it been the right thing not to try?

Maybe her friends had had success there, in Stockholm. Maybe she saw them on TV, or listened to them in the radio some weeks later. “The new super group, with the fantastic leading voice of Marie.”

And what would had happened if she hadn’t seen her grandmother tears? Would she be the Queen of that dream? Would she ever have that chance again? She was sure that she had talent, but… Was she worth it?





Dalià♥

Alla mina bästa år♥A fairytale life|Adjö

-It’s the time.


Frida hugged her grandmother. School had already finished, and they were going to take the train to Stockholm to start the tour.

-Be careful with the people you talk too-said Agny, trying to deny her tears- And don’t eat anything strange, if it’s necessary…

-Ok, ok, you’ve told me that thousands of times, mamma. I’ll call you when we’re in Stockholm.

-Ok, my darling, ok.

She smiled, and hugged her again.

-I remember…-said Agny- I remember when we first came to Sweden. Your mother was sick after the birth, so she stayed there, in Ballagen, for a while. You were only a couple of days old, but the farewell from you was extremely hard for her. You couldn’t even see her blue eyes, as full of tears they were. I told her it wasn’t that dramatic, she would see you in a while. But, my darling, now… I understand perfectly your mother. Never, even when my children went away, I felt the same sensation. I knew they were going to be safe. I mean, I’m not saying you’re not safe, you are strong and you know how to manage with yourself. But, Anni-Frid, you’re only 15, and…

-I know, mamma. But we’ve talked a lot about this, and I think everything is going to be OK. I must go. Goodbye.-she kissed her cheek-I love you, mamma.

They smiled, and Frida ran to the car.

She sat on the front, with John.

She looked to her grandmother, and waved goodbye.

She saw her blue eyes, those eyes that had seen her daughter and her husband die, plenty of tears. She thought about their life: Agny hadn’t been what you call a “devote mother” with her, but she didn’t blame on her. She had passed the last 15 years working, sewing for they and doing everything at home. While other grandmothers only kept their grandchildren once or twice a week, she had to be a mother again.

She had taught Frida to sing and to love music, and that she would never thank her enough.

She was there because of her, and now she was going away, leaving her alone after all…

-Stop! Stop the car now!

John brake, and looked at Frida:

-What, what happens?

-I go back.

-What?-he exclaimed-OK, please repeat. What is that you go back?

-That I go back, I go home!-she said, opening the door of the car-I can’t leave now, this is not the moment. Marie can sing the vocals.

-What? Me, the vocals? But, Frida…

-You can do it, Marie. I’m sure you can do it.

She smiled, and kissed her friend’s cheek.

-Have luck in Stockholm!

-Frida! You can’t do this now!-John shouted from the car.

-Yes I can, because I’m doing! Sorry, John, sorry you all. You’ll be better without me, I’m sure.

She waved goodbye again, and ran back to Eskisltuna.



-Mamma! Mamma!

Agny turned around, and, surprised, hugged Frida.

-But, my love, what are you doing here? You should be in the car with your friends, on way to Stockholm.

-No, mamma. You were right. Not the time, not the place. I’ll find other friends, and I’ll sing in another band. But here, in Eskisltuna.

Agny smiled, and kissed her granddaughter.

-Come home, darling, come home… Come home.



 
Dalià♥

Out of Africa.

Jueves, 07 de abril de 2011 (Extracto de mi diario personal)


¡Cuánto mentiría si dijera que no adoro a Karen Blixen!

Acabo de leer su sección en el libro “Grandes Aventureras” de Alexandra Lapierre (Ed. Blume), y me ha entrado esa sensación de nostalgia que tengo cada vez que oigo hablar de la salvaje África.

¿Qué tendrá, que fascina de esa manera?

Recuerdo que, el otro día, estaba haciendo un dibujo con colores cálidos en clase de Dibujo. De pronto, me vinieron a la cabeza los colores de Kenia, por los que Meryl Streep se paseaba escopeta en mano.

Y, mientras dibujaba esos típicos árboles de la sabana cuyo nombre no recuerdo, sentía una sensación cálida en el estómago. La misma sensación que siento cada vez que pienso en algo que sueño con ansia, algo que aspiro a conseguir algún día.

Amo África, amo la sabana y amo a los leones.

Amo esos colores, amo ese cielo, amo el olor que, en mi mente, imagino que tiene África.

Un olor como a incienso, salvaje, y muy, muy seductor.

¿Quién no ha soñado con un beso de película en África? Mientras, por detrás, los animales pasan por delante del sol poniente, como al principio de “El Rey León”…

Estoy divagando. En fin, por si no os habíais dado cuenta…

Me gusta África.

 
 
Dalià♥

Alla mina bästa år♥A fairytale life|Decisions

tionThe dinner time arrived, and Frida and Agny had to meet again.


-I’ve thought about our argument.-said Frida, in a low voice.

-And?

They looked at each other.

-I’m going to do it. I mean, I’m going on tour with the band. But I’ve thought about it, and I’ve made a decision.

-What decision?-asked Agny.

-I’ll send you all the money I earn. And…-she said, before her grandmother intervened- if, let’s say after two weeks, I don’t like what I do, I miss Eskilstuna or simply I’m not successful, I’ll come back. I’ll get a job and, when summer passes, I’ll be back to school. Right?

Agny sighed.

-If… If that is what you want… OK. But you must carry out your promises!

-Yes, yes, yes! Thank you mamma! Thank you so much!-Frida exclaimed, kissing her grandmother- I love you so much!

She ran upstairs.

-But Anni-Frid, finish the dinner!

-I’m not hungry!-she shouted from her room.

Downstairs, Agny laughed. “That little girl…”

She started picking up the plates, and took them to the kitchen.

“This is not the best, not at all.”, she thought, while washing the dishes-“But it’s in the middle of our respective wishes. Oh, God, how I wish she changes her mind…”

It was true, she was going to miss her so much.

They didn’t have what is called an extremely intimate relations (Agny passed most of the day working, except Tuesdays), but they loved each other madly.

Nothing was going to be the same without her. She had said that, if something failed, she will be back.

But she knew it (she had grew her up, after all), she wouldn’t carry out her promises. She would try and try, until she died.

Just as her mother did.

Her innocent laughter, her eyes, her good night kisses…Everything will go away with her.

Including her happiness.

 
 
Dalià♥

Alla mina bästa år♥A fairytale life|Sinny

The few photos she had of Sinny from when she was a child remembered her how equal was she to her daughter, at least in the personality. They both were pretty, enthusiastic, sweet and, over it all, rebel. Sinny had showed it when she decided to have her child, and Frida was showing it now.


She passed the pages, and saw the photographs of her young 19 years old daughter. She wasn’t surprised when Sinny told her a young German soldier had fall in love with her: she was really pretty, just as Anni-Frid. And, apart from beauty, she had all the qualities a man could have imagined: she was sweet, funny, and patient. She had always been her little girl, and will always be.

She knew music was her granddaughter’s life, and she also knew that, before or after, she will meet a man and fall in love.

And that was exactly what made Agny getting worried.

Anni-Frid was as lovely as Sinny, but the rebelliousness was also equal in both. And so, she was sure that, if she really fell in love, she would give everything.

And Agny didn’t want the story to be repeated again.

And that was the ‘cause for her refusing of Anni-Frid’s dream. She once had let her daughter keep her dream, having a little baby, and it all had ended awfully.

There were a few photographs of Sinny pregnant, and the ones there were, were made at home. She didn’t go out of the farm during almost all her pregnancy. They didn’t mind the rumours, but, when she was in an advanced state of the pregnancy (7 or 8 months, if she remembered well) they started receiving threats. The doctor, the only one that didn’t criticize them, told her that she couldn’t do any long travel, so they chose to wait to the born and then go away from Norway. They had heard that there had been an operation, “Lebensborn” it was called, and that Sinny’s pregnancy had been part of it. And the destiny of the “lebensborn” child was horrible.

At first, only Agny and the little baby moved to Sweden. Sinny was weak after the hard birth, and she will move with them later.

She did, at the start of 1946, and, while Agny worked, kept the baby. She looked happy playing with Anni-Frid at that time, but Agny knew that it was only with her baby that happened.

She had written several letters to Anni-Frid’s father, Alfred, but none of them had been answered.

She had written to the Norwegian embassy in Germany, but they had said they couldn’t help her.

But she stood waiting a call, a letter, anything that could tell her that nothing had been part of a plan, that their love had been true.

Before she got sick, she talked Anni-Frid a lot about her father. When she couldn’t sleep, Sinny sang to her an old German song Alfred had taught her. She cried, remembering Sinny’s voice. She was sure Anni-Frid had inherited her talent from her.

Some of her last words had been for him, and she was sure that, wherever she was, she was still in love with him.

She closed the album.

She lied down on the bed, and took a pillow.

She didn’t want Anni-Frid to hear her cry.



Dalià♥