The Chi rabbit
When I was young I really loved the world of fairytales I still do, imaginary dreaming and listening to stories on the radio or vinyl when I was 5 years old and later on tv. The books had a special impact on me, but they usually created a less imaginary world, as I mostly focused on pictures to relate to the story. While I was listening to a fairytale on vinyl or radio my imagination was very strong. I think it is where I developed a different world for myself, and my creativity in art. As a child, I often was not allowed to watch fairy tales on tv around 19.00, so I ended up hiding, and switching on tv because I was hidden, I could only listen to the voice, and again imagine things. This is the most that I do remember was an important thing for me in my childhood. Now when I am writing about it, I also started to recall that the world once created in your brain, doesn't go off even through the passing of the years. What is more, I started to remember the images, and pictures of books, that I would say their vibes in the most modern way of manner attracted me the most were both poetry and stories. Poetry in my childhood had a special place for me, It always seemed so sophisticated to imagine what was read, and every time understood differently, not like repeating the stories already known. Poetry was much more, I think it was where my first abstract thinking was born, and my favorite book was not even written in my language nor the language I knew. I just loved the polished shiny cover of it, the rabbit at the front and that was it, the rest I could just feel it. It was enough for me. I pretended that I could read it. I watched Images there and knew it all. That was my best and first memory of an experience with the poetry book and different cultures. The cover of the book was already broken with turned threads which were only making me feel more excited to keep it and not to break more of it. There was not only something poetic in it, but also more artistic in a way that I liked and loved for how the cover was built. It was awakening me to some higher level of thinking about the whole price of this book for me. It was the most expensive, and the most valued one just from the point of how it was torn apart. I somehow have a tendency to still like books with interesting covers half damaged, and with pure text inside that I can read for years over and over again. Another book, a very small one as a miniature that I loved almost the same for its reason of cover and pictures in it again polished pages was The Pear fell into the Apron. This tiny little book was full of rhymes. It was in my language this time, so I always combined these two together when coming back to it after going through the one with the rabbit on the cover.