To Elona

Dearest Elona
– breathe.

It will all pass, eventually,
like autumn leaves that once covered this earth
and scars that healed into unforgettable memories.

When you see a dying flower,
remember to count the endless springs – yet to come,
for there are blessings that grow
upon grief.

Dearest Elona,
I wish you could see the strength within your bones
and the love that sleeps under your skin –
for it is the greatest I have ever seen.

Jehona Thaqi© To my dear friend

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Darling

Tell me you’re here, darling,
whispering my name
through shattered promises –
aching like broken bones
and open wounds.

What has become of us, darling?
Two strangers sitting across the room,
glaring at each others faces –
with regret burning in our eyes
and resentment aching within our hearts.

I loved you, dearly,
and I know you did, too,
it seems like this world has been to weak
to carry our unearthly love.

We still glare at each other
and smile –
there is nothing left to say,
darling.

Jehona Thaqi©

Mother – Nënë

Mother,
dear mother,
I have intended to write about you more than once,
but I did not know where to start
or where to finish,
for there are no words to describe the magic within your soul,
mother.

You held me close
to the body which ached and shivered,
but nothing felt like home unless it was within your arms; 
it was your love that saved me from pain,
mother,
your hands that healed the scars underneath my skin.

I am sorry mother,
for I have drowned your cheeks with tears too many times,
your soft, porcelain skin and sad eyes;
a doll, like within Kadare’s novel,
utterly beautiful, yet somehow unreal.

Mother,
I could write page after page,
but I have yet not found the right metaphor which comes close to your soul,
so I will hold you, tonight;
dear mother,
and I will tell you
that you are the roots of my happiness;
no matter how far I will go,
you are within my very soul.

***

Nënë,
e dashura nënë,
sa shpesh deshta të shkruaj për ty,
por nuk dija nga ku të  filloj 
ose ku të mbaroj,
sepse nuk ka fjalë të mjaftueshme për ta spjeguar magjinë brenda shpirtit tënd,
nënë.

Më ke mbajtur afer trupit
i cili ishte i permbushur me dhimbje 
por askund nuk u ndjeva në shtëpi, pos në krahet e tua;
ishte dashurija jote e cila me shpëtoj nga dhimbja,
nënë,
duart e tua i sheruan plaget nën lekuren time.

Më fal, nënë,
qe i permbusha faqet e tua me lot;
atë ftyren tënde te butë, lëkurën tënde të bardhë, sytë e tu të merzitur;
kukull, si e pershkruante Kadareja në librin e ti,
një bukuri jashtëtoksore.

Nënë,
mundem të shkruaj pafundsisht për ty,
por ende nuk e kam gjetur metaforën e duhur për ta përshkruar shpirtin tënd;
sonte do të mbaj pran,
e dashura nënë,
dhe do të tregoj
që ti je rrënja e lumturisë sime,
dhe nese jam larg teje,
ti gjëndesh brënda shpirtit tim.

Jehona Thaqi©

Only a woman

You thought I was only a woman,
but you forgot the strength
that flows through my veins and rushes throughout my body,
with bones of steel and healing skin,
for scars tend to grow stronger each time you cut through women like me;
merely women –
whose strength you thought you had buried
while breaking their souls.

You thought I was only a woman,
but you forgot the hands that have raised you
and the love that has nourished the seeds of the man you are today;
do you remember who held you
when your soul ached and your voice shivered,
she, too, is a woman,
who you considered less
the more she gave to you.

You thought I was only a woman,
but you forgot that I am a raging sea,
calm – just before the storm arrives;
but powerful and unapologetic when it comes to being
only
a woman.

Jehona Thaqi ©

The beautiful woman on the picture is my dearest friend Irma.

Unsaid

She regrets it now;
having left everything unsaid.
Her heart breaks by the mere thought
of how everything could have been different if she had said
stay.

He watches the city disappear
in the dust of what seems to be the last memory of happiness.
If only she had said something.
If only he had forgotten his pride for once.

And both at other sides of this world
but in the same state of misery,
watch their worlds turn gray.

Jehona Thaqi © 2016

How to use water colours

Hi everyone!

I wanted to show you how the process of a water colour sketch looks like.

Frist I start with a few pencil outlines. Be careful not to push too hard, as water colours may not be able to fully cover the lines.

When I am happy with the outlines, I fill in everything I with a fine layer of colour. Note that you do not really need the white colour, just mix more water to achieve the right tone (unless you want to create a pastel tone or to highlight some specific areas).

After that I personally prefer to darken the colours gradually and to set shadows. Some artist prefer to cover the whole paper with a thin layer of colour, but I do not prefer to do so, as I often change my idea of the piece throughout the process.

As you can see, I used white to highlight only a few spots (usually I highlight the lips, nose, eyes and a few strands of hair).

I decided to do a rather abstract piece, hence the bone and blood stains. 

I add a few details to the face (and/or object) and progress to the background.

Here you can perfectly see how different lightings alter your piece and the water colours. I was unable to do the whole sketch in one sitting as I have a one year old son. If you’d like to see more progress pictures of another piece, please let me know!

The final step is finishing the background and adding shadows. As a beginner it may be a little difficult to add shadows, so take your time and do not get frustrated about ‘mistakes’. Practice as often as you can, learn how to mix colours and check out some great Artists on the internet (like Emily Artful, for example) for inspiration.

I hope this was helpful!

Love,
Jehona Thaqi

Wine

I sit alone, lonely,
the evening breeze dancing around my thighs, underneath the dress you loved on me,
flickering candles caressing my pale skin,
empty glasses of wine on empty tables.

I sit alone, lonely,
and I watch the city fall asleep on this sunday evening,
I watch lovers kiss goodbye
and broken hearts run home to their mothers;
for there is nothing a mother can not fix,
but I wonder why it had to be broken in the first place.

I sit alone, lonely,
the waiter kindly reminds me that they are closing,
I nodd, hanging onto my glass of wine,
almost empty,
but still there;
you see, I hang onto the sweet taste of love
and the bitterness which hides underneath your eyelids;
I remember your words, vividly,
and the way your fingertips danced upon my thighs
and the dazzling light of our veranda flickered upon my skin.

I sit alone, lonely,
the last sip of wine;
I see the blurred picture of you,
reaching for me, now.

Empty glass of wine,
but your lips against mine;

a familiar taste.

Jehona Thaqi©