December 2010
2 posts
“I’m reading a book aloud to myself in an empty house. It’s quite fun...”
ici et maintenant chez moi
A ring of time. Comfort is a constant rhythm that draws out peace from dusty bookshelves. Stillness exists between each interjection of music. Love will remain in each moment when the sound dies.
Why? you may wonder. Because it will always be present in the next second. It will always come back. Home is the empty space held tightly between seconds.
A hand gently sweeps across its face in...
September 2010
1 post
calme toujours
Breathe, breathe, take deep breaths. That’s all you need to do. In and out is all it is. Calm is the robust playing of piano keys. Calm is the setting sun. Calm is the grains of sand beneath the still water. Calm is cool pebbles in the palm of your hand. Come away, and everything will be fine. Come back to what you hold most dear. Draw away the curtains, and reveal the candle through the...
August 2010
3 posts
bâtiment
A tower of doubt. Aren’t we all? Is it the spirit or the structure that embodies its maker’s creative secrets? Each one of us is a castle by the sea. A giant, closed to the outside world against pounding waves of emotion. Over time, it will crumble against time’s all-encompassing shores. And yet, the dream will live on for eternity. The body will not remain. But the idea will...
aujourd'hui
Today I served the homeless. They wore a lifetime of smiles trapped in the crinkles of their eyes. To each unique identity, happiness exists. Their laughter unlocked a world of memories, which can never be taken from them. They saw through eyes that had seen a thousand years in a single lifetime. Antiquity glossed over crystal blue and brown and grey eyes. And they watched, and they waited for...
July 2010
5 posts
la plage
And there it is. Life is the greatest paradox of all. A never-ending cycle of memories and fascination.
Yesterday, I was a giggly little girl at at the beach. I chased the waves, and squealed when I got wet. The setting was pure and simple. One of those little gems hidden away against the groves of Cypress trees, just waiting to be discovered. Yet, I remembered the place from years ago, and I was...
intrépide
Peeled tomatoes. The human anatomy reveals that it’s only our skin which keeps everything inside. But we wouldn’t know otherwise, and at that point, we wouldn’t be human anymore, would we? Of course, I suppose that’s just plain morbid :)
However, the truth of the matter remains that whatever is exposed on our surfaces does not reveal the soul. A beautiful face can cover up...
June 2010
18 posts
quelque petits choses
Smiling, I ask only for one simple, little wish… that one day the world would happen to me. And yet, through our eyes, that’s all each one of us will ever know. Just one story. And I wonder, is it enough to sustain curiosity, especially within the finite boundaries of only a single perspective? Are we justified to sit within the frame of a closed window, waiting for our life to happen?...
Prague
I believe in the power of thought. The mind can stretch far across oceans, and into the depths of another’s soul. A thought’s simple gesture can translate between two people worlds apart, torn by interminable subconscious roots. And I wouldn’t know, if no one had told me. Yet, the magic of memory still exists, and will never be forgotten from the banks of new waters. Where was...
lumière
And the candle softly wipes away the fatigue mirrored in my eye, against the grain of a thousand moments. Awakening, the sun also slowly rises, drifting up against the currents of stars washed clean by the moon. And then the picture is painted pale blue with the remaining embers of a golden twilight underpinning of a silken sky. I’ve been waiting for this. Haven’t we all? Night comes,...
le médaillon
Golden rays from the sun gently illuminate the crest of her cheek, weathered by a weariness of the hour and a weight on her heart, and fastened by the bonds of eternity. The masks are versatile, but the skin must be the same. What truths she reveals to the outside world may vary, but the truth of her soul which she embodies can never change. And the weather-beaten woman dissolves into the bondage...
l'eau
There are wonderful things waiting to be discovered in this world. Simplicity is often laced with beauty. Imagine a day when one dips one’s fingers in a clear lake on a warm, breezy summer day. There, one is free to dip her fingers nonchalantly into the waters of her emotions. No one can judge her out there on the water, and no one can know her thoughts as she lazily floats, suspended in her...
rêve
We are the dream-treaders who follow a delicate, yet foreboding, map of space and time. We are like spiders moving over their webs; we appear to move carefully over the fragile parts of life, but in reality, it is that strong dream which will always keep us suspended in happiness. How often do we take the plunge from our net of safety? Traveling down, down, into the abyss, we may hold a black fear...
réchauffer
The more one gives of oneself, the more one will receive in return. Generosity feeds the soul with a fine meal to fill an empty heart. Pure love is the only required ingredient to perfect the recipes of life. But, above all, you must always love yourself. It is only fair that the measurements from one food to another will always remain proportionate. And yet, self-hatred will eventually release...
pardon
Like a rose petal, human emotions are easily and most graciously bruised. The once-pristine pink and yellow patina blossoms one moment, only to rubbed and melt into the brilliant purple hues of malevolence in the next instant. It is in our nature to be unforgiving of the actions we would not be able to forgive in ourselves. Different layers of morality divide us all, but it is also our...
miroir
How can humans ever be pure in all their thoughts? Greedily, we keep ourselves hidden to the world. We save only the most personal things for ourselves: self-loathing, and sin. Guarded secrets are kept carefully behind cupboard doors. The lock will always give way, and only curiosity is needed to explore the empty shelves. Look inside, and find only a mirror and echoes of the distant present,...
Cuckoo Clocks
The heartbeat of my childhood has tick-tocked with each passing moment of time. There are owls and stags pinched in the woodwork. The forest pours its spirit into the etchings of Oak trees, called to stop in its place by a pendulum. Eyes fierce, backs arched. Feathers and wings, poised to take possession of their rightful place in the wind. Antlers and hooves charge against the flood of seconds...
essayer
Humanity is paradoxical in its wants and expressions, thoughts and actions, souls and bodies. But how much do each one of us really know? We, the keepers of the world, are often strangers to ourselves. Rain pours against the outside of a dirty window pane, failing to cleanse away sorrow. And we wait, silently breathing, for the sky to open up. Does everything really happen to us? We would not...
déconcertée
It is a strange world in which we live, where whispers pound against our ears as thunderous echoes. Oceans of thought press their weight against what is valued, and what is held true. Visions are the keys to a cross-section of another point in space and time. In a world where childhood exists on a carousel, it was our choice to stay or leave. Was it our choice not to take a ride on the horse? Even...
A Garota Ipanema Partitura, written by Antonio...
Olha que coisa mais linda mais cheia de graça É ela menina que vem e que passa nun doce balanço, caminho do mar…
Moça do corpo dourado, do sol de Ipanema O seu balançado é mais que un poema é a coisa mais linda que eu já vi passar…
Ah! Porque estou tão sozinho Ah! Porque tudo é tão triste Ah! A beleza que existe
A beleza que não é só minha que também passa sozinha
Ah! Se...
My bffl →
le premier rendez-vous
How can I hope to comprehend the meanderings of young minds?
I cannot say I know even my own, to be honest.
We walked side-by-side, but our eyes see differently.
So too are our ears different, just as our hearts feel more or less, I cannot say.
We were miles apart there, walking in unison on the same side of the street,
Silently drifting away on the purple-hued cusp of early evening.
The air...