* Image – Gypsy by Gryffindork at DeviantArt.
When my cousins and sisters and I were kids we used to pretend to be gypsies.
We loved the pretty scarves, the golden earrings, the jingly bracelets and the long, colourful beads.
It seemed so exotic, so other-worldly, so empowering to be a gypsy. To dance under white clouds as if the dance was the only thing that mattered.
To have people cross your palms with silver and tell them the story of their fate.
When we were gypsies we dreamed of tall, dark handsome strangers and travelling to faraway places in our magical caravans.
We dreamed of fire and lust and passion before we even knew what they were.
We dreamed of a soaring kind of joy.
We dreamed of life.
‘Don’t talk to the gypsies,’ said my grandmother who avoided buying their boxes of hand-carved clothespegs and exquisitely-stitched handkerchiefs at all costs.
‘They’ll rob you blind.’
We ignored her, dreaming of brown-eyed boys playing guitar under the moonlight.
Believing that it might just be possible that the words in books could come to life.
Sometimes I think of those gypsies dancing wildly on hilltops; our skirts constructed from old tablecloths and curtains swirling at our feet.
I think of those gypsies lost for the most part in time but with a little, just a little bit remaining in our grown up hearts.
I think of the little parts of the gypsies that remain and know that it is possible that some dreams stay with us for good.
Ahhh, this brought back memories! As as child I too thought that being a Gypsy might be the most fascinating life, and to this day a part of me connects with that spirit. In fact it’s one of the passwords I’ve used for a long time! I remember my grandmother telling tales of Gypsy caravans that would travel the backroads and stop at their farm to buy chickens and camp for a night or two. She said they always kept the children indoors then, for fear they would be stolen! I used to think that maybe that wouldn’t have been so bad! 🙂
I also have memories of being a gypsy for the day, as a child. I loved all the magic and supposedly “forbidden” things that gypsies represented to us as kids. I even dressed up as a fortune teller a couple of Halloweens. My mom wasn’t too happy about me “swiping” her gold hoops for the journey! Lovely post and photo. Thanks for the great memories.:)
Maybe there is a little of the Gypsy in all of us that prods us to throw caution to the wind sometimes and that is about as close to the real Gypsy life as I would want to stray. Poor buggers are usually unwelcome wherever they stop and recently even ‘ethnic cleansed’ from France, long the home of many famous Gypsies. Django Reinhardt comes to mind.
Is it really one of your passwords? Awesome. I have a few like that too – words that meant a lot to me as a kid. There were lots and lots of stories surrounding the gypsies and they reallyseemed like mythological figures to me. I think that’s why I’m still so fascinated with them!
I dressed up as a fortune teller too. I even had a crystal ball (which was actually plastic.) It was so much fun telling people’s fortunes and just imagining a different kind of life. Those were the days!
Oh yes. The reality is that the Romany gypsies have been persecuted very badly. Ethnically cleansed is a good way of putting it. In fact, it would be a very hard life.
I agree with you in that I think there is a little bit of the gypsy spirit in all of us…..
Ethnically cleansed?? How sickening. I wish people could just live and let live. Why the fear over differences? I always loved stories of gypsies as a child. The intolerance bothers me alot, as long as it’s within the laws of any respective place, people should be able to live their lives as they see fit regardless if it fits the “norm”. And the rest should stop fearing what they don’t understand.
It’s bad, isn’t it? I saw a doco about it and it was really upsetting. Intolerance bothers me a lot too. Why are we so afraid of differences? Surely being unique is a good thing. Can you imagine how boring the world would be if we were all the same?
Great post Selma. I have always loved all things gypsy, especially the clothes and music (and what I would give for one of those colourful wooden caravans covered in tassels) – I did marry the tall dark and handsome guy though – hahaha 😉
Glad you got the guy. Haha. Just goes to show that dreams do come true.
I think that’s what captivated me with regard to gypsies – the clothes and the music. I loved it as a kid and I still do. The fortune telling also got to me. It was so entrancing!
Gypsies always bring to mind freedom of spirit, I think mainly because of the music, or yes the cloths as well, but they always seem to be happy with the air of mystic about them. I remember when I was very, very young, seeing some sort of documentary about Gypsies, the dreams of the handsome young man singing to me under the night stars was what I dreamed about for months after that. 🙂
Wonderful, gypsy’s conjour up such wildness and passion, I can almost feel the wind in my hair!
Ah, you’ve made me so nostalgic and I have never lived anywhere near gypsies. I learned of them from books and I could have been your twin, they fascinated me so. I also dressed up and lived another life for a while. Thanks, Selma!
Oh Selma, I loved this post.
I have never seen a REAL gypsy, but when I was a little girl and I was “bad” my mom used to threaten to “sell me to the gypsy’s” and that freaked me out!
When I ever get up to Sydney I’ll bring my tarot cards. Then we can dress up and tell each other’s fortunes! That’s unless you get down to Melbourne first
Freedom of spirit is such a good way of putting it. Oh, I have dreamed about the handsome young man singing to me under the night sky too. We are two born romantics, aren’t we?
YES! The wind in the hair is such a good touch. I love it!
It is so much fun to think that you also imagined being a gypsy. So many of us were very similar. Maybe that’s why we are bloggers and writers. I love a bit of nostalgia.
My Mum did that too. What she didn’t know was that I would have happily gone with them. I really wanted to live in a caravan. Hahaha.
I would love that. We have to do it. We HAVE to do it!!!
Beautiful post Selma, such images you created. I loved this bit:
“I think of the little parts of the gypsies that remain and know that it is possible that some dreams stay with us for good.”
I agree that some dreams stay with us for good. And I also believe that some images, such as your gypsies dancing wildly, are touchpoints for those dreams. Dance away sister.
To dance and dream. Is there a more perfect combination? I love that you mention the touchpoint, the idea of which has a magical quality. If we hold onto our touchpoints maybe our dreams will never die. I hope so…..