July 08, 2011

Week 13 : Footsteps

Footsteps walk along,
I follow the prints in the sand
are they my own
or is carrying me
an invisible hand?

I looked out for signs
but I searched the wrong place
questions come from outside
and find their answers within.

The paths lead me
to where I once left
God is my home,
and home is myself.

The footprints are mine
the invisible hand too,
for sometimes reason fights
others the heart carries me through.

-Isabel Meine F. Vigil

This video is dedicated to my parents for always supporting me in every step I take, no matter how crazy things may get sometimes . Thank you.

June 02, 2011

Week 12 : Baiser

It’s a moment of bliss
the sound of your voice
or the way you look at me
when I turn away.
it’s a silent ‘Don’t Worry’
when you touch my skin.

You are the one
to look through my eyes
and find the person
who really hides behind

- Isabel Meine F. Vigil (Madrid, 2004)

This is for all candy lovers and those who try their best in life. :)
As always, thank you for following!

May 16, 2011

Week 11 : A trip to. . .

It's a moment full of peace
like a dawn tainted orange
it fills up your emptiness
now it's happiness
running through my veins.

Words, paintings and songs
seem to speak out my thoughts
Waves of passion unite with devotion
give birth to the new
and make the world seem different.

Like a blessing making me feel alive,
I hear music, taste colours
feel love for something we call life
and gives my heart a new direction
it's the cause of a rebel called inspiration.

- Isabel Meine F. Vigil (Madrid, 2005)

A film dedicated to the friends and the good times. This one I want to dedicate especially to Ana Gely A. and Petronela Lucaci! Thank you for a wonderful trip.

April 24, 2011

Week 10 : Writing A Story

Little Story Teller (an extract)

“Good night, little fellow.” Danny reached out to grab Dad’s hand and held it tight.
“We are right next door so don’t worry, you hear me?” Dad said reassuringly. Danny just kept his eyes locked on Dad’s never letting go of his hand.
“No need to be afraid, ok champ?” Dad’s voice was smooth and cheerful, but Danny thought he detected some kind of effort in it. Dad sat down on the edge of Danny's bed.
“Everything is alright, ok? Now, go to sleep.” Dad ran his thumb over Danny’s forehead. Danny finally let go of his father’s hand, but still felt uneasy.
“Dad?” he whispered.
“Mhh” Dad mumbled as he got up and walked to the door.
“Can you leave the door open? Just a little.” He asked. Dad nodded, said good night and left.
Danny listened to the footsteps walking away and down the hall. He pulled the blanket to his nose and closed his eyes so hard they began to hurt after a moment. He could hear noises coming from the living room downstairs. Mainly they were voices from the television and sometimes his parents’ voices. He turned towards the door and lay on one side, he suddenly felt how heavy his legs were and that he indeed was tired. A few minutes later he felt his eyelids getting heavier too and he began to doze off, when he suddenly heard a noise. His eyes were wide open searching the room. The noise had been too close to his bed, it couldn't come from the living room. There, he heard it again, a little squealing noise.
“Danny! Danny!” the little voice yelled. Danny pushed himself deeper under the duvet.
“Danny! Please, don’t be scared of me.” The voice squealed, much closer now.
“I am your friend.” The voice said. Danny lay completely quiet, listening. Maybe he had dreamed it. Then he suddenly felt something on his legs, he startled. After a few seconds he peeked over his protective blanket. His heart skipped a beat. There was a little figure standing on his bed. He wore a little green hat, which he instantly took off when he saw Danny staring at him. The little dwarf-like creature, about fifteen centimeters tall, made a bow and then cleared his voice. But Danny didn’t wait for him to talk. He started to shake him off.
“Go away. Get off me.” He shouted. The little dwarf with the green hat fell off the bed.
“Uff.” He said, as he landed on his bottom. “That hurt.”. Danny glanced over the edge of the bed. His eyes were starting to fill with tears.
“Who are you? And why don’t you leave me?” he asked in despair. The little dwarf got back on his feet and cleared his voice again.
“My name is Green Hat.” He said. Danny’s eyes were wide open now and after a few seconds he declared with a frown,
“Green Hat is not a name.” The little dwarf threw his head back, he seemed offended.
“It is a name, a very nice one. Besides you gave it to me.” He answered, still a little hurt at Danny’s remark.
Danny was still far under the duvet, only his nose and eyes peeking out.
“Anyway,” the dwarf said, and a smile was back on his face, “I know it’s late and you must be tired, but please may I speak?” he asked. Danny didn’t reply nor move, and Green Hat took it as a sign to continue speaking.
“Danny, I am your friend, and I come to you in hopes you can help me.” Danny listened.
“Our valley is fading, everything you created is starting to disappear and the only hope for us is you.” Danny shook his head.
“Please, you have always told our stories, why don’t you do that anymore?” Green Hat asked. Danny had tears in his eyes.
“Oh, don’t cry my friend, you can save us.” The little dwarf said and got a little closer.
Danny wiped one arm over his face.
“Please!” Green hat said, but Danny shook his head.
“No. Those were Annie´s stories, they were for her.” He explained and more tears began to flow.
The little dwarf sighed.
“So then we have to go, too?” he asked sadly.
Danny looked at the little dwarf through blurry eyes. Suddenly he noticed some other creatures in the back of his room, hiding behind his toys. He could hear them sobbing. He recognized all of them. He had invented each and every one of them in the stories he used to tell Annie before she would fall asleep, so she wouldn’t feel afraid. His little sister had passed away last spring after suffering from Leukemia. Danny had completely forgotten about all the stories and characters he had invented for her.
“You are all here?” he asked while his glance wandered around the room. Green Hat turned around to see the rest of Danny’s visitors.
“Hey, I had told you not to come. It’s better if only I talk to him.” He said. Almost instantly a little dwarf lady, with many freckles in her face and curly brown hair jumped out from behind a chair.
“Well, you weren’t achieving anything with your talking, so we decided to come along.” She marched towards Green Hat and pushed him aside.
“Danny? Hello, I am Didi.” She declared with a wide grin. Danny had come out from underneath his duvet and was now carefully reaching out one hand. He petted her head.
“You are real.” He said in amazement. Didi crossed her armes with a frown.
“Of course we are. What did you expect? Fake Grass People?” Danny had to chuckle. He wasn’t sure whether he was dreaming or not, but suddenly remembered all about the Grass People, as Annie had called them. Little creatures, which lived at the bottom of big tree trunks. Didi looked exactly as Annie had pictured and described her.

- Isabel Meine F. Vigil

I hope you enjoy this one! And remember, you're the author of your own universe.
Thanks for following.

April 12, 2011

Week 9 : Who Are You?

We both grew up in the same small town, we went to school together, we even studied literature at the same university in London. But that’s about all Katie and I have in common. Our relationship is a complicated one, I suppose you can say that we are friends. She probably is the person who understands me best in the world. But she is also the most annoying person I've ever known. She loves to be right, sometimes I think she just enjoys disagreeing with me.

Last night when I got home she sat in the living-room and just when I had said how tired I was and how much I hated my job, well, the usual evening talk as you can see, she started to pick on me.
“You love complaining, don’t you?” she said. I just rolled my eyes. B
ad idea, as it just encouraged her to continue talking.

“You could be writing books, as you had always planned. But instead there you are, a waitress, throwing your talent away.” She pointed at me to make me feel even smaller than I already felt.
“Stop judging me, it’s not like you have done a great successful career.” I said.
“Not yet. But I am working on it, I might start freelance writing for some magazines.” She said, holding up one that she had been reading. How much I hated this extremely small apartment in that very moment. It barely consisted of one room, a shower and a big living-room with a build-in kitchen. There was no way to escape her.
“If you weren’t so scared of failing you probably would have published a few things already by now.” She said, turning her attention back to the magazine in her lap. I started to feel a headache rising. I really didn’t need to listen to her. I got up and closed myself up in my room. I got rid of my working clothes and changed into my comfortable home clothes: an over sized grey sweater and a pair of old blue trainers. I switched on the radio and listened to the traffic news. It was going to be a busy weekend. What does it matter, I thought, I won’t be on the road, going anywhere, as always. When I lay down on my bed, I noticed how much my muscles hurt. How tired I really was. While the voices from the radio babbled on I looked at the blank walls and at the boxes that stood in the corners, still unpacked. I had moved here almost two years ago. I should finally find a moment to decorate the room. After all, this little flat here in London had become my home.
Suddenly the door opened. I didn’t even bother telling Katie she should knock before entering, she always does what ever she pleases, whether I like it or not.
“Are you depressed?” she asked and sat down on the edge of my small bed. I shook my head.
“Good.” She said and got out a cigarette.
“Don’t smoke in here please!” I begged. She didn’t listen. My headache got even worse with the cigarette smell.
“If it disturbs you, why don’t you do something about it?” she said provokingly, and she turned to face me directly now.
I tried to meet her eyes, but I felt uncomfortable, I concentrated on the little freckles on her nose, on her black hair, but I couldn’t hold the look and I dropped my eyes to the freckles on my hand.
“Typical.” She said.
“What? What is
typical?” I asked irritated.
“You don’t like the way things are but you don’t do anything about them either.” She said reluctantly.
Tears began to find their ways to my eyes.
“Well, at least now she is reacting.” She said, as if she was narrating the scene.

“Oh, why don’t you go and leave me?” I yelled. She drew closer to me. I couldn’t stand her so close to me. Why was she with me anyway? I felt like her only point in life was to torture me.
“Go, get lost, Katie.” I pushed her away from me. But she just continued to invade my space. I started to panic; I thought she was either going to burn me with her cigarette or to suffocate me with the smoke. For a moment I even thought she had gone crazy and I felt even more scared. But then, she threw the magazine onto the bed. I hadn’t seen her carry it into the room.
“I think I might send some of my stuff to them. What do you think?" she asked with a laugh, which to me sounded sinister, but still it eased a little bit the tension I was feeling.
“Good for you.” I said.
“You should do the same.” She said. I got up, I had forgotten about the radio and now that the sound was back in my ears it was too much and too loud for me.
I switched it off.
“Did you hear what I said?” she asked.
“Of course I did.” I yelled suddenly.
“I hear everything you say, all the time. You never stop talking. I know you think I have given up. I need time, ok? But I don’t need you to torture me as if I was a complete failure in life.” Tears of anger were running down my cheeks.
“Aren’t you?” she asked, she had got up as well and stood straight in front of me, confronting me.
“I am not.” I noticed suddenly that my hands had formed into fists. The room seemed much bigger now than it really was.
“Are you saying, you didn’t choose to work as a waitress to hide behind a job you don’t like in order not to face the hard work and commitment it takes to write? You mean you’re not cowardly avoiding responsibility?” she asked, her eyes locked on mine. And that’s when I noticed she wasn’t smoking anymore. In fact, I didn’t know what she had done with that cigarette. My tears had dried and my body relaxed.
“Ok.” She finally said. I was still staring at my own reflection in the mirror when I noticed what had happened.

- Isabel Meine F. Vigil

This Video is dedicated to all the people who believe in their dreams, and sometimes duel with themselves in order to not lose sight of their goals.
Thank you for following!!

March 28, 2011

Week 8 : From Me To You

Sadness is nothing
but the fear of not feeling loved
Frustrating it is not to receive
adoration from no-one at all
Painful to try in vain
for our virtues be admired by them.

Love, it is that gift
to experiment in many ways
It is never the same;
simple and queer
lacking and abundant
What you long to have and miss
for it never seems enough.

The one that's hardest to find
is the one closest to us
The best you will ever have
the one that follows our path
and will guide our way,
it is the love for ourselves.

- Isabel Meine F. Vigil

This video is dedicated to everybody who has had a bad day, a bad week or even a bad year sometime. Sometimes it's all about stopping for a moment and reconnect with ourselves again.
A big thank you to everybody following my project! I hope you continue to enjoy my videos, your comments mean the world to me.

March 12, 2011

Week 7 : Stabbed

You are there,

I can’t move.

Your gaze

Won’t let me go.

When sun sets

I think of you,

At Sunrise I still

have found no rest.

There is the story

I can’t speak

When you are near

I scream inside instead.

You have me fixed

And a Word from your lips

Will decide my fate.

-Isabel Meine F. Vigil