like the violin

The Twelfth Night Ball at the Opera (there are a few photos in the photo blog) yesterday was simply lovely and wonderful in every aspect. As we stood at the doors afterwards, waiting for everyone (there were about fifteen of my lindy hop friends there), we looked at each other, almost as if we had just woken up from a dream. How could nine hours pass so fast? It could have been fifteen minutes for all I know.

I felt a little bit like Cinderella; is it already over? I had changed into ordinary pants and sweater, as it had begun to snow outside and I didn't want to ruin my dress. My friends looked at me and said "oh ... yes, that is what you look like most days ...", as if they didn't consider the pants and tee shirt-clad Kristin the real one, but rather the Kristin floating around in a red shimmery haze. Because that's what I was, that's what it all was: shimmering. People were staring (admiringly!) at me all night, probably because I am a good dancer (and how I enjoy the waltz and viennese waltz, rumba and foztrot, even the occasional cha-cha; everything is lovely with a good leader, in a ball gown, and with an opera orchestra), but I think it was because I was beautiful, too. It was an amazing feeling.

Today the world is covered in a wet, white blanket. I know Göteborg: this will not stay, the footprints I see from my balcony are already dark, my windows are covered with drops. But as I intend to stay indoors today, enjoying this Sunday with something creative (drinking hot chocolate for example (I wonder if there is any milk on the fourth floor, I've ran out) and working with a photo album which I have neglected for too long), I won't notice. Everything looks white and snowy and soft from up here.

Been intending to link to this amazing photographer for a while, but I've forgotten. I no longer remember where I got the link but I am sure you will love this as much as I do: Jan von Holleben's Dreams of Flying.