Sonni Hullu ja Puuro

When I produced Sonni, Liisa asked whether I remembered Hullu and Puuro as well. The answer is "Of course, my dear, and the sentence that tied the three together, as unlikely as it would seem!"

I am reminded of a quote from the Last Unicorn:

"Your name is a golden bell, hung in my heart.



I would break my body to pieces to call you once by your name."




It's like Norwegian. No. It's quite different again. I fear losing my Finnish in a way that I don't fear losing my Norwegian, perhaps because of it's very foreignness, but as of yet it remains with me, the words fluttering on my lips like an enchantment. It is everything. The delicate, precise nature of the double letters, the steady consonant-vowel alteration, the simple miracle that one can learn two names for the same thing and feel both of them in their heart.

Like an enchantment. Like if I remember, and pronounce them properly, release each name onto the wind, they will pull the wonders of the last summer around me.

And that...