Vintage doll's diary
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When the house is asleep and the curtains move slowly, the dolls write. No one sees them, but they do. On tiny sheets of paper, with an old, used pen. This is their secret diary.
18 May (year unknown) - Lenka
Today I found the kind of introspection that often visits me: the vivid, animated silence that lives between thoughts, full of sensations and images. It felt like a passage to a place I have never been to, but have always known.
I thought: what if I took a different path?
Not because I want to be someone else - no, I love the life I lead - but sometimes my heart expands so much that I want to savour life from every angle: to be a quiet seamstress sewing dreams into fabrics, the keeper of a secret garden in the hills, or a girl selling old books on a wooden cart by the lake.
It is just my way of loving the world more.
I stayed with these thoughts for a while. They needed no answers. Then I folded them gently and put them away between the pages of an old book: perhaps I will find them again next May.
β Lenka 
18 May (year unknown) - Luna
Today I followed the scent of May. I walked through the grasses where the orchard begins, just behind our house, and picked the most delicate flowers I could find: wild daisies, a sprig of elder and two sleepy buttercups. I kept them all in my pinafore, so fragile and precious that they had to be carefully guarded. They say flowers don't talk.... But I believe they do. They whisper when you get very close, and one daisy, I think, told me that I am radiant today.
Then I reached the riding stables there, near the orchard, and approached the horses. They were so quiet today. One of them came towards me, and allowed me to touch his mane: it was like touching the twilight with my fingers. Its eyes were deep and warm.
β Luna
3 May (year unknown) - Lenka
This morning, the sun stepped into my room (which is also Ariannaβs), quietly, on tiptoe. It was really warm. As if the sun was whispering stories of things that are about to happen. The prelude to summer, to ocean waves, to the most beautiful season of the yearβ¦
I wonder if my owner will take me to the sea with her, one afternoon? Iβd love to hide among her things, inside a straw bag, next to a book. I didnβt go out today. I embroidered three little flowers for a skirt Iβve started sewing for myself, and then I sat quietly to watch the imagined sea.
I wonder if my owner will take me to the sea with her, one afternoon? Iβd love to hide among her things, inside a straw bag, next to a book. I didnβt go out today. I embroidered three little flowers for a skirt Iβve started sewing for myself, and then I sat quietly to watch the imagined sea.
β Lenka
