la lune. la lune...

peggy's cove.

as her waves lull you. invite you.

almost as though they say...

whisper a dream. whisper a dream.

tuesday night and reflecting back on the past days.

a constant come and go.

of a whirling dance and a whirling wind.

can please explain to me, how it is

that we're here and now already in november?

sometimes i feel like it should still be september

as i ask myself where days go by.


the weekend itself was a sweet busy.

it was about friends. again.

it was about the girls.

friday night and full house here.

saturday morning up early for a business meeting.

it means big changes and big challenges

for all those involved.

and again, it's one of those situations and oppurtunities

that makes me reflect and retrack the steps

that lead it all to this.

yes. again. it makes me believe that everything

happens for a reason and a cause.

like a little destiny. a map that's been laid out.

but you simply only see that path you've walked,

understand it's little stops and detours,

after you throw a glance back over your shoulder

in retrospect.

there's almost an irony in it all.

my boss and i haven't really spoken about it out loud,

but i think on saturday we both had a moment

that we simply both quietly thought...

who would have imagined two years ago,

when this mission and this vision started,

we'd find ourselves right here and now.

one of those thoughts of never in a life time,

one of those thoughts that would have never crossed your mind.

we both did agree however,

that if this does all fall into place,

it's like a little revolution

and a door opening, into a whole new world.

and yes. although it is a habit of mine to talk in riddles,

and between the lines.

this is something that has to remain just that.


but in my own little way,

i like to think that this also has a bit to do with klaus.

an unknowing gift that he left behind.

and in a way, somehow i like to think it's him sitting up there,

looking down,

being his mischievious self. smirking and smiling.

and just taking care of things.

and sometimes i wonder what else he's got up his sleeve.


so i got home on saturday and took care of a few things around the house,

and then got myself back into the car to elisabeth.

and setting priorities straight,

it was in the door and into pyjamas.

girls night. elisabeth. kyra. and me.

dinner was on the living room floor,

sprawled out between us and in between a bottle of two of wine,

i was cutting out patterns for elisabeth,

and she was diligently sewing.

and i think kyra was simply thinking of all the strange and silly things

that mom and i were talking about.

but she's used to those talks and conversations by now.

smiles. yes. it's about being all girl. being all woman.

god. we have wild and wonderful conversations.


then welcome sunday

and having breakfast and quickly laying out and designing

elisabeth's new business cards and postcards.

and as usual, i was running late

as petra was on her way over at eleven.

ooops.

i literally stayed in my pyjamas, threw on the trench coat

and thought to hell with it.

raced home just to get a text message from petra that she slept in too.

i was running late. she was running late.

the perfect partners in crime we are.


and then the two of us just had a wonderfully sweet sunday.

coffees on the kitchen table

and then heading into town to grab a bit to eat

and more coffee again.

sitting at garibaldi's and then off to the trinkhalle

until we were back home again

and it was sunday night.


monday came and went.

a busy day. a good day. an unexpected day.

late home at night day.


today was a bit the same.

a constant go at the office

but a good energy of go at the office.

left a bit early to bring the car to the garage.

yup. the mini started doing a few strange things on me.

as in, she didn't want to take the curve

when i wanted to take the curve.

it was as though we were playing a game of tug of war.

and damn the both of us were stubborn.


i pulled her off to the side. turned her engine off and started her again.

and things were fine.

but as i mentioned it back at work

the boss reckoned it would be better just to take a look

and bring her into the garage.

so that meant leaving her behind

and getting a brand spanking new car for the night.

okay. just a rental. and a beamer to boot.

and although i can't really say it's one of those cars i'd pick myself

it's always definitely a nice car to drive.

and not necessarily good when yet another speeding ticket

is one of those things not allowed at the moment.

and andrea and i wanted to meet up for a coffee after work

so again, as usual, guess who was running late.


i'm absolutely lost driving in pforzheim.

and prolly the reason i can't leave without my gps.

of course, the car of the day was without a navigation.

so i thought it was rather sweet,

when the receptionist heard that i was asking for directions,

and offered to drive ahead of me to show me the way.

i was wearing one of my rings today

and she was all smitten about that when i first walked in the door,

so i think as a small thank you,

i'll give bring a ring for her tomorrow.

just as a little gift. and a little thank you.

for going out of her way.


and coffee and talks with andrea were wonderful.

it's almost as though our whole lives are running on a parallel.

and we both always have too much to say.

sometimes i think that it's like

we're both holding a mirror up to one another

and we see ourselves.


i've only just met her thru work,

and i select most of my collections for the catalogue from her company,

but from the first meeting on,

we knew we were meant to meet.

again, it's sweet how these things happen.

and i'll say it again and again and again.

but yes, all things happen for a reason.

each and every encounter. each and every path crossed.

it's all within reason.


so next week. it's coffee again.


so now i'm on my way off to bed.

just needed to sit down and write.

hold on to the past few days.

and yet, there's still that one story i need to share

and need to tell.

the paris stories... the lost and found.

and whatever story that story needs to hold within.

for me.


and tomorrow,

i'm back on an auction mission.

i've had it on my mind for much too long

that i want a deer and her antlers

on these walls.

maybe for some, a bit morbid in its way,

but for me its the symbolism

the reflection of something majestic, graceful

and full of pride.

strong, vulnerable, and maybe at times naive

but with all her dignity.

her feet were always firm on the ground,

but her head, still always held high.

and all of that is said with her crown

and even after she's gone. its still what's left.

simply saying she was there. and she was here.


and i've watched this auction. and i've watched that.

but tomorrow is the one i want.

because once again, there's this little voice saying...

this is the one. this is the one.

almost as though it's whispering.

and it's simply something you feel. simply something you know.

(just the same as with all those other little things in life...)


so this is me saying good night...

and just letting you know

there's a most beautiful moon out there tonight.

glowing.

abundant and voluptious

in all her mysterious ways.


la lune. la lune...

just thinking about home...

remembering train stations.

and these places of comings. and of goings.

and of older photographs. once taken.

just a quick note at the end of the day,

instead of writing the little notes of things i wanted to say...


but i finally booked my flight home today. for the holidays.

and my god it's been a long while.

three years of a long while.


and if i look back at how and where things were then,

it's like a lifetime has changed.


and yes. it feels good. already.

just thinking about home.


oh happy happy me.

if it was meant to be...

nina.

from a series simply called
the hotel room stories.

the girls just left

after a wonderful night of talks upon talks

and stories upon stories.

with laughs upon laughs.

and i'm just finishing off a last glass of wine

before i say good night myself.

because in just a few hours, it's time to start a new day again.

early. saturday. morning.

and today was another good day.

i managed to leave the office a bit early

only to get stuck in a bit of a traffic jam.

and instead of cursing or getting in a fret,

i simply put in a good cd and thought to myself

this is just the way it's meant to be...

i like those moments when you can turn the music up just a bit louder,

and sing just a bit out of key

and it doesn't even matter if the person stuck in the car beside you

has a quirky smile on their face

while prolly questioning your sanity at that given moment of time.

so i just smiled back, shrugged my shoulder and carried on

all the more out of key.

i was going to drive over to france to get what i needed for dinner

i like to do that every now and then.

but thanks to the slight interuption of stau on the autobahn,

i stuck to my side of the map instead

and picked up everything in the store across the street.

yes, i also stuck with the idea

of steamed artichokes and a vinagrette as the entrée

and then mussels. mussels. mussels. white wine mussels.

but the other sweet joy,

was coming home and seeing that i won my auction on ebay.

i placed my bid this morning as i left the house

just to be sure i didn't miss it again.

i've been trying for the past week

to get a lovely copy, an older edition book or script of tristan and isolde.

not just for myself

but as a gift for someone that's been such an inspiration to me.

a woman that i've so long looked up to and admired from a distance.

for her work. her creations. her visions. her success,

and i never dared to believe, our paths would cross as they have.

(another story i had wanted to share,

but again, to be saved for another day of one day).

and i didn't want it to be just any edition, or any old book,

rather one that i knew "this is the one.... this is just the right one."

yes. those moments when you simply know.

and tristan and isolde has always been a story

that captured me. fascinated me.

set me off to little dreams

of walks on maps of places i've been. and places i've longed to be.

and the other day, as i was leaving from a meeting with this woman,

working on a project with her,

i left with such a surge in me, and such an energy.

that i can't really explain.

but i felt she had just given me so much...

inspiration. and confirmation.

and yet there she was, telling me i had done the same.

her work and her collections are always based on stories.

they hold little tales. and symbolisms.

she manages to create what i sometimes wish

i could create and i could share.

and that's when i realised, maybe i can do it.

just in a different way.

and as i stepped out,

suddenly it was the story of tristan and isolde i saw before me again.

it was a vision, a geistesblitz and a trait d'esprit.

and it was just a thought that kind of held on to me.

and then i thought, if anyone could capture it,

create it in a new story, a beautiful story,

then franziska it could be.

and then i simply thought it's something i need to do silently,

share the inspiration silently.

and in between the lines.

by simply giving a gift.

and it was a very clear thought.

and something i knew i want to do

just as much as i need to do.

i missed out on the first auction of what i had found.

"this is the one... i know this is the one".

and for a moment, it left me a bit devasted.

i'll admit that in all true honesty.

but then i reminded myself,

if it was meant to be

it will be.

and i made a wish.

a wish that came from the deepest of the heart wish.

needless to say, the auction was placed again.

so i waited and marked today in my calender.

and although i usually don't place my bid or say my word

until the last moment appears,

this morning i left with the knowing and the belief,

and i said to myself again and again,

if it was meant to be

it will be.

.

and so it was.

you know, sometimes i truely believe...

that's all you have to do.

is simply that. simply to believe.

and now there's another book and edition i found.

i like to think that this one will be a gift to myself.

an edition of tristan and isolde in french.

a language i don't speak.

but a language i feel.

it's an edition with the most lovely illustrations.

and sometimes yes, i also think it's good to give a gift to self as well,

just as it is, to be a gift to the self.

because if it was meant to be

it will be....

these are the days...

going thru older photographs. again.

and simply observing. observations.

london. café rouge sessions.

hello. again.

i came home with all intentions of writing.

to tell a bit of this. and to tell a bit of that.

"kleine erzählungen" is what i'd call it in german.

silent conversations about the little things...

or telling a little story i brought back from paris.

a story we'll simply call lost and found.


but we'll save that story for later,

when i find a more than just a quiet moment to write.

and to reflect.

simply because it's a story i want keep

and although maybe nothing,

i like to think there's something written between its lines.

yes. i always look for the magic in things

and the little hidden secrets.


but i just got home and it's later than i thought it would be.

this whole week has been like such.

last night was a bit of thai for dinner with regine

and then an evening of omondieu!

putting a small collection together for her store

and planning a "secret garden" event again.


then tonight olga invited me out to a small premiere of

"Das Fräulein von Scuderi" by Ernst Theodor Amadeus Hoffmann

also known as "Mademoiselle de Scuderi".

and i just found rather fitting with its coincidence

of recent happenings and becomings, and simply of recent parallels.

no, not of murder and of scenes of corpus deliciti... smiles.

but of paris and of bijou. or simply the name "fräulein" in itself

(as one of my new collections is named something similiar.

but again, we'll save telling that for later too.)

so tonight it was like a story within a story. all in its own special way.


but it's the scenario of this theater that i love so much.

tonight was simply a small and intimate premiere

in the spiegelfoyer...

which could simply be called the mirrored foyer.


and afterwards, we went for a glass of wine

and then for a midnight walk

up thru the hills overlooking the city and the lights,

taking the long way back to our cars,

and crunching our way thru autumn's fallen leaves in the dark.

talking. simply talking.

it was a lovely night needless to say.


and i don't even know what i'm still doing up at this hour

when tomorrow needs an early start

and promising to be a long fulfilling day of work

and i have a few of the girls coming over for dinner.

and i still haven't yet a clue what the menu is going to be.

maybe it'll be a steamed bouquet of artichokes

and then a big pot of mussels. fresh fresh mussels.

and wine. yes. plenty of wine.

needless to say the house needs a quick tidy up too.

but these are the days...


but i'm feeling wide awake right now.

that's what happens when there's an vibrant energy in the air,

and there's so many ideas and inspirations

that dance around in thought.


all these things that are happening

and all these things waiting to happen.

to simply fall into place.


it's coming back to life

with small steps that lead to the next step.

i think i simply needed that rest in between.

it was like a cradling. nurturing and unravelling.

after all the things that had been

over the past few chapters of the past year and some.


but now i need and want that power and magic again.

it was almost as though i had forgotten

it was still within me all the while.

and i can't say how grateful and thankful i am for my friends

that are pushing me forward

and reminding me...

constantly reminding me.


so maybe that's just what i needed to say tonight...

just a small and whispered thank you.

for friends. and for being there.

in the quiet times. and the chaotic times.

and even in the far distance of times...

but always in the close at heart of times.


and yes. these are the days...

when i simply feel i need and want to say

thank you.

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.

where do your heavens start...

and where do they end?

photo taken once upon a time ago.
somewhere. on a shore in england.

just a song that i'm singing

again and again.

with a touch of sadness. and with a touch of a smile.

and it leaves me happy to at least have been able to say,

this path had crossed

of two people. and two souls. of two bodies.

eine begegnung. that's how i like to hold it.

where do your heavens start...

and where do they end?

so let me whisper

and know that i still hold you like a small hope in my heart.

maybe i should translate the words.

but for now, i'll share them as their written and sung.

Zu meinem Engel gebetet, für kein anderes Mädchen gedacht.

Tausend Stunden gewartet, hat alles nichts gebracht.

Zwanzig Briefe geschrieben, bis einer gut genug war für dich.

Hallo wie gehts dir? Denkst du manchmal an mich? -- Manchmal

Wie sieht der Himmel aus, der jetz' über dir steht?

Dort wo die Sonne, im Sommer nicht untergeht.

Wo fängt dein Himmel an, und wo hört er auf?

Wenn er weit genug reicht macht dann das Meer,

zwischen uns nichts mehr aus?

Du fehlst mir, oh du fehlst mir...

Alle Uhren auf Anfang, ich kann nich' mehr sehn.

Seit ich dich getroffen hab, bleibt mein Herz manchmal stehn. -- Manchmal

Wie sieht der Himmel aus, der jetz' über dir steht?

Dort wo die Sonne, im Sommer nicht untergeht.

Wo fängt dein Himmel an, und wo hört er auf?
Wenn er weit genug reicht macht dann das Meer,

zwischen uns nichts mehr aus?

Du fehlst mir, oh du fehlst mir...

- Philipp Poisel -

au nom de la rose...

au nom de la rose...

of a lion's heart and a dame de coeur.

i like to think

they could grow beautifully together.

so many things i've been wanting to write these days.

fragments of stories. of thoughts.

chapters.

and yet, the words have just been silently spoken

and not silently written.


but let's just write about what in one way or another

has become this year's love

figuratively speaking.


this was the year of gardening.

of learning. and weeding.

of planting.

and getting hands awfully dirty.


here i am. all of thirty seven.

and its been a year of gardening.

i really haven't a clue as to what i'm doing

but i think that's what it's about.

the learning.

and not just of the process, but learning patience too.

and it's about probably making a lot of mistakes

but doing it my way.

and figuring it out as i go along.


roses and lavender have always been some of my favourite things.

taking me on day dreams to the provence or the tuscany.

it's their glory. it's their scent.

and it's the way they live in cycles. just like a beautiful feminity.


and this year, it started on the veranda.

first there was the white oleander that i brought back from italy in may.

it was almost as though i had made a vow with myself

not to come back

without a white oleander.


and while working my way on the veranda,

a small rose here and a lavender there,

i started to see the garden. in a different light.

i'd pour myself a glass of wine in the evenings,

sit outside on the steps and simply looked and listened

as though trying to know what the garden itself

wanted to become.


and again, all i could see was roses. and lavender.


and this garden patch underneath an old cherry tree

that had become a forest of weeds and such unknown things,

became the summer's venture.

and it became the daily ritual

upon coming home from work

of simply pulling out the weeds,

one by one. bare hands and all.

i think that was part of the process for me too.

and at first, it's almost as though you don't know where to start,

it's almost overwhelming.

but with each step,

the path becomes more clear,

and you start to see things in more detail,

you discover things

and it starts to form. it starts to change.

that's the weeding.

taking things by the hand.

taking things by the root.


and when friends would call in the evening,

the first question started to become a habit of

"are you out in the garden weeding?"

it was almost as though everyone started to take part of this story

and watching it unfold.

and friends started to bring their own little pieces of self for the garden.

lavenders. i believe each and every gift has been lavenders.


and then came the roses.

one by one.


it's almost strange to say,

but it was as though i was a bit timid at first.

or maybe better said,

there was this doubt in me,

i felt i had to learn more, understand more,

before i could embrace the roses.

and then i finally said to myself,


the first rose, i fell in love with because of the name.

and actually, that's a bit of the story behind all of my roses.

it's not just for their bloom, their colour or their fragrance.

it's also because of their name.

something i can't really explain.


the first rose was paris charme. and a luscious pink.

then came miss dior. soft, a hush of creme. and her subtle scent.

dame de coeur was found on an unexpected day.

she was a bit neglected and not really promising to bloom.

but i saw her and it was as though i felt, or maybe i believed,

i could bring her back to her beauty again.

and i think that's when some of the magic was already starting,

it didn't take long and there she was.

vibrant. pink. and almost something sensuous about her.

and with my this morning's coffee,

it was a wonderful awakening, to see the promise of rosebuds again.

it was anais nin that once ever so beautifully said...

"And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud

was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. "

i think this is what the dame de coeur is reminding me of.

and maybe teaching me as well.

and as the rose garden on the veranda started to grow,

along came the fireball rose.

i think i was fascinated, by her form, as though her figure.

and her lulling and alluring shade of the red.

i think if red were ever to be defined, to be given a single name,

it would be this rose. this fireball.

and then the day came that i discovered the aphrodite.

i saw her at the gardner and amongst all the roses i saw that day,

she was the one.

it was almost as though she was calling me, tempting me.

and yes, i brought her home too.

pastels of pink peach. and voluptious blossoms.

and for some reason, i talk with her a lot.

and i ask for one more bloom as i ask for one more wish.

and the last rose that came into the secret garden,

is called lion's rose.

yet i always seem to call her lion's heart.

and she too stood out in the crowd, amongst all the others.

caught my eye before i had even read her name.

i just spoken with mom on the phone earlier

and then decided to buy a rose for her...

because although she's far away,

i wanted a rose in the garden that would be her rose.

and with her august birthday,

it felt like a gift that i couldn't give her to place in her hand,

but that i could simply give her to place in her heart, and have her here

rather than a thousand miles away.

so that made me smile all the more when discovering this rose's name.

my mom. under the stars a leo.

and hence a lion's heart.

it's these lions' hearts that i tend to hold so close to me.

and they both seem so far away.


and these are my roses. this my summer's love.

and it's been about learning.

and it's been about growing.

it's been about taking the risk to blossom.

and i don't ever want to stop...

i want to ride my bicycle...

bicycle. bicycle. bicycle.

i want to ride my bicycle...

(photo from an older day. once in ireland.)

i won a bicycle.

a bicycle.

a bicycle.

i won a bicycle.

and there's a smile on my face.

picture this...

picture this...

even without a photograph filled with colour

or the simplicity of black and white,

rather simply with thought.


because isn't it so...

that what we see deep down within,

with our heart and with our mind,

are the pictures we bring to life?

the pictures we create?

and then learn to share?


it's early morning

and i'm slowly getting ready to find my way to work.

i'm sitting here with my cup of coffee,

pen and paper in hand

and manifesting my day.

writing lists and filling my book with thoughts

as though writing these words on my heart.

little reminders of what i want and need to do with the day

but also reminders and thoughts of what i want to do with life.


these are the quiet moments i like.

the morning brings a quiet peace with itself

and it feels like a new page, a blank page

in this wonderous thing we call our "book of life".

and the day stands before us,

like a litte mystery that wants to unfold.

and we get to write the lines,

one by one by one by one.


so today,

i want to watch a glorious day unfold.

i want to write powerful and beautiful words in my day,

i want to write a chapter that has its continuations,

but that leaves the last sentence of the day

with a smile on the face

and an open door.

waiting with passion and curiousity

for the next chapter of tomorrow to unfold.


and what words are written on your heart today?