femme heureuse.

café stories.

and random stories...

of when secrets are told.

and secrets are heard.

photo taken in café rouge. london.

once. a while ago.

i'm off to paris in the morning.

and i'm already smiling when i simply think about it.

my suitcase isn't yet packed,

but that's okay.

it's a habit i have to save that for the last minute,

and then to fret if i forgotten this, or forgotten that.




it's just a short trip of wednesday and thursday.

business. work.

but you can be damned and assured,

i'll savour and adore each and every moment.




i don't have my meeting until the afternoon.

place vendôme.

so i'll spend the early part of the day,

wandering thru the streets,

absorbing, watching, listening

and letting it all be inspiration.



it leaves a smile on my face already.



and i remember the first time that i ever went to paris,

the first time that i ever walked thru the square of place vendôme,

it left me with a curiousity of the people

that pass there with their day to day lives..

the stories they have. their comings. their goings.

i stood in the middle of the square

simply wondering.




and if you would have told me that years later,

i'd be walking thru that square myself,

on my way to a business meeting,

i don't think i could have seen it. nor believed it.





the past days have been good.

it's like there's an energy in the air.

i find myself pondering over so many things,

and yet i find it hard to spill the words,

form and shape them in a written conversation.



so many things are happening.

like a reinstatement of faith and of the self.

and manifestations that reveal themselves.

and each and every day,

there's an eagerness and an anticipation

just to see what's around the next corner.

but there's also a calm and a quiet

that reminds me to just be still,

to take a moment

to feel,

and to take a deep breath.

there's something that is reminding me

to keep the faith

and simply believe.



and i'm learning patience...


and that's a big thing for the girl in me.

and that's a big thing for the woman in me.




and i find myself saying the words again and again...

une femme heureuse.

une femme heureuse.

hello saturday...

more eclipses of patti.

and the saturday sessions

stories of feminity.

and all the glorious secrets we women are.

hello saturday.

as i take a slow start into the day.

still here at the kitchen table with my cup of coffee.

writing a list with the things to do for today.

like going to get bricks and wooden planks

because i want to play tonight and make my shelves

for behind my bed.

and it has to be a simple solution. not requiring constructive talent.


and then going to the office to get some work done

with maybe a quick stop at ikea after.

because if i want to make the shelves tonight,

a bit of light might not be such a bad idea.


is this when i admit, that after almost over a year of living here

i still haven't lamps in the bedroom

aside from my bedside table lamps?

nor have i lamps in any room of the house.

confessions.


but that's okay. there's a white chandelier coming soon.

and i know just what it's to look like.

and all i have to do is find it.

but it's as though i can see it already.


sometimes, life is about just that.

waiting for that magical moment when you know

this is the one. this is the thing. and it wants to belong.

this is just as its supposed to be.

and i like it when belongings have their own little stories.

about where they were found. how they were found.

and sometimes they simply need their secrets too.


there's still so many things i need here in the house.

little things. big things.

but i've been letting myself find them as i go along.

or letting them find me...

letting them speak to me and give me that feeling of

yes, this is it.

so i'd rather take my time

like a little journey that unfolds.

yes, it's all still in the making.

a home might only be of brick and mortar,

but it's what's inside the home that becomes the heart.



i remember when i first moved here last year.

as i left the house in meissenheim,

i stood outside the parked van with all my belongings

and it felt like just an empty van.

i made that clear decision to make a new start. a new beginning.

and i took a few of my personal things.

tea cups and candle holders.

photographs and books.

an old chair and an old chest.

i took my clothes and diaries.

and an old picnic basket.

and a few things more.

but all the things that might be what most call the essentials

i left behind.


and i remember standing there thinking,

i'm thirty six and is this all i have to call my own?

there was an emotion that over came me,

there was the doubt, and then there was the anticipation

then i realised, it was the decision to call this my own.

closing a chapter. starting a new chapter.

letting go. opening up.


but im sitting here this morning and looking around me.

and i smile.

here on my old kitchen table,

i see my old baroque mirror, a photograph of a coffee cup

and then i'm back to that moment in paris.

i see my porcellaine bowls

that have the words desire and courage written on them.

i see the vintage glasses i brought back from ireland,

and they shine a beautiful light with candles at night.

i see my orchids and a new purse hanging on my staircase rail.

i see the fruitbowl that wants to be filled..

it's the little things i see.

and yes, it's the little things that make me smile.

these little things we find on our journey.


but for today, the journey is to the hardware store,

to buy bricks and wooden planks.

because sometimes you need that too.


hello saturday.

these little wonders...

patti

and an older portrait

from the saturday sessions

taken once upon a time ago.

one of those photos most dear to me.

today is one of those days

simply filled with the things we call

these little wonders.

my mind is racing with stories to share. to tell.

written as though spoken.

but a day like this leaves one tired

and there's a bed and a warm blanket calling my name

under a window of autumn night stars.

today was about manifestations and wishes that come true

in unexpected moments.

and those are always the most beautiful.

it's about a day filled with smiles

and inspiration found around each and every corner.

in people. and occurences.

these little wonders...

they happen on days when you wake up

and you simply feel something is in the air.

and you welcome the day, opening your arms

as though you open your heart

and simply say in a quiet and loud voice,

here i am.

and this morning

i sat where i'm sitting now, at the kitchen table,

writing in the pages of my book

manifesting the day before me.

it's how my day usually starts.

writing lists. writing words.

with a cup of coffee.

and i asked for a day that simply leaves a smile on my lips

as it does on my heart.

i asked for a day that brings wonder and sweet surprises

and a day that confirms and instates faith, hope, belief

that everything is just so as it should be.

and i asked for a day that not only i find the inspiration

but that i could also be inspiration.

i asked for a day that leaves magic like playful shadows.

and that's exactly what today was all about.

maybe i can share more later,

maybe i'll keep it just as whispered fragments

as i so often do

simply written between the lines.

but now as i call the day just that,

i wish that everyone feels the magic in their day

and writes it down on their heart,

each and every day.

i believe that was ralph waldo emerson

that once said something like that.

write it down. write it down.

these little wonders...'

and this grateful and happy heart says

thank you.

ireland. calling.

just a quick note

as all the words and thoughts i've written as of late

just never really found their way here.

maybe later. in postscript.

but for now

my suitcase is packed

and i'm on my way out the door.

ireland is calling.

even if just for a few days. away from it all.

long walks along the sea with autumn wind.

a coming of the tides

lulling their way in. lulling their way out.

conversations around the kitchen table with the girls

and magical spells cast.

ireland calling.

i'm on my way.

p.s.

i cut my hair.

i guess when a girl does something like that

that means, change is whispering in the air.