piano at breakfast

A friend just mentioned how she is seeing a man who plays the piano.

 It reminded me.

The lighting, is pale yellow, falling from the window on to a table set with a white table cloth. A very long table. Breakfast scents and treasures lay strewn across it , already consumed , still irresistible.


My hand keeps reaching out.

The piano sounds.
He started to play.
Had no idea he played the piano.

Of course we where alone, every one else had left, I had awoken up late.

I suppose he had waited for me, maybe?
He was playing, for me may be?
 No one else was there but the Benjamina plants,  long way away, across the deep contrasting shadows of the enormous room, on the other side of the dusty carpets and sofas , so far away, but I think never the less, listening. Just as I was listening, startled by the music. Absorbed fully. Reaching out , spreading the jam slowly, responding to the music, answering what ever he was asking with the piano, spreading the jam so slow as  to make the music last.

 Particles of dust sparkled in the light, spinning.

It was one of the most beautiful breakfasts.

The rabbits.  I feel I must dedicate a word on these species for baby and l have lived with two for the last few weeks. Although they are more and more becoming a house pet, rabbits are not cats, or dogs, they are still wild animals just as horses are and though with time they can be house broken, it is not in their nature to be lap animals.
l I have had many different house animals, and l have an atitude towards them as l do eith my baby, there are a few rather than many restrictions,  I study what it is that comes natural to them and embrace it or offer substitutes.  My dog hates being on a leash, and janks choking herself on it, yet when l let her leash free she never leaves my side, does not wonder off or fight other dogs ever. With rabbits rathrr than a standard cage,  l let them firstly to my art studio, and later on a whole balcony,  putting them in a hut at night only. Trough the glass we observed them and they us.
it surprised me to watch how affectionate they are with one another. They clean parts of the other which he can not reach himsrlf, such as between ears. When they sleep they take turns to keep watch, huddling together,  one sleeps, folding his ears inwards towads the fur muffeling  sounds, whilst the other keeps ears upturned listeing, and eyes half open watching, for any movement or sound.
Rabbits do not have eyebrows protruding above their eyes,  the skull actually diminishes above the eyes alowing them to keep in sight the sky, and the ground arround them, for predators. The ear might is quite extraordinary,  they react to sounds happening on different floors, inside the building whilst they are outdoors, and they can turn the ear like a radar in any direction or angle to tune into a sound.
They are very aware of their hygiene,  and spend most of the day cleaning them self's, washing the face with two paws,  licking their feet, the amount a proud house cat would ,much unlike dogs who are slobs in comparison.
They tend to always want to eat what ever the other is eating, much like people,  and often nibble food out of each others mouths, rather than claim a piece for them selfs. They love to eat,  and do apriciate new exotic foods and variety. I offered them daily freshly picked grases, herbs, flowers,  and saw that their ability to eat increased every day. In one week they doubled in size.
Rabbits are also very,   curious creatures, the have to investigate everything, much like a child, and every day outsmarted all my barcades that separated them from other balconies.I found them gazing down at the world from 8 flors up, from the rim of the building and not falling,  and as tried to stop it I realised its best to let them explore,  and found them coming back when they are done.
They are very aware of one another, and if one is missing for slightley too long, th other begins to worry and search,  when should one be inside the rabbit hut, the other  will try to break in or climb on the hut and keep watch, becoming at this point careless of themselves,  making it easy to catch them, when usually they are proper little escape artists. When released into a new space they first of all huddle count 8 paws before relaxing, and if one is released he is by far more stresed when alone.
As for messynes, well they poo as they hop, everwhere. Very quickly the balcony w
starts looking like it is covered with polkadots. The pee on the otherhand in colures red, orange, yellow and white,  and is used to mark their territory , pedantically and constantly  repaired, a bit like an English man's garden hedge.
The male Captain Cook  loves to run, bounce, jump in one direction at top speed than cut a corner or swing into the opposite direction panting with formula 1 adrenalin, than sit down to chew a leg all cool, bad boy style. The female Martini, observes this in her wider vision, pretending a total lack of interess,whilst streching a leg in the air  ballerina style,  licking it.
Their reaction to us the humans was well much slower than any pet I hadthus far, at first they hid, than they started sniffing us, looking for me when hu gry or bored, but still do not like bing picked up, and bit me as a warning, though they seem to understand who is a baby and did not try to bite Duje when he picked them up.

It is striking to note,  that how no matter how satisfied one is with ones career wether rthey dedicating most of thir lifes energy into it, and find them self in a optimal position. ? Still ond is never entirely happy,  there is always something more that must be done, and there are always more things, and no matter how much one is earning its never quite enough,  it is endless dissatisfaction.

 On having a child,  producting a little human being è which thinks on its own,  learns, develops, and is for the most part out of parentals control,  gives such a feeling of utter satisfaction.  The child is perfect.  Even though it changnes from day to day, it sems always perfect,  and provides a rush of feeling contentment. a contentment with the now,  and, on ghe moment,  as each fase, each day,  is is full of little surprises .

mothers milk

Writing with child suckling at my breast.  He is falling asleep lullabied by the assurance of mother.  The sweet smell. The soft skin against his face.  The arythmic rocking of my foot. His legs across mine. The taste of milk in his mouth .He ducks in and out of sleep, opening his little beak, searching for my nipple.He trusts me the most, yet does not. I the mother, am the only presence he needs at night. Needs to be with him . Yet I keep leaving  him alone . He wakes ad hoc to check if mother is where she should be. His mouth opens and closes searching in the dark.  His hands grope ahead, trough blankes, pillows, seeking  warmth. Podgey legs are thrown left to right, aimed over my thigh. If all  efforts meet air, he turns to the side of the father, calmley extends the ritual, than climbs onto his little hands , sleepy baby head weighing so much it wobbles, and lets out a cry. One syllable. Like a lighthouse. To listen out for any resonance.  And I hear though walls and appear hither. I gather him into my arms, he greedily snaps for the nipple,  and I rock him back and forth humming, stroking the feathery head, kissing the irresistible round cheek, for the third time this evening. . He sleeps eavesdropping,  lies in wait for  my movement,  guarding his treasure like a dragon ,drifting in and out of deep slumber, to tug the nipple ,  irreplaceable evidence that I am here. We are together.