“For some nights I slept profoundly; but still every morning I felt the same lassitude, and a languor weighed upon me all day. I felt myself a changed girl. A strange melancholy was stealing over me, a melancholy that I would not have interrupted. Dim thoughts of death began to open, and an idea that I was slowly sinking took gentle, and, somehow, not unwelcome possession of me. If it was sad, the tone of mind which this induced was also sweet. Whatever it might be, my soul acquiesced in it.”

J. Sheridan Le Fanu



Over a Flowering Bed


16th of August 2016

Dear Diary,

Dandelions, dragonflies, little birds flying everywhere. In this garden, life appears to me as a singular delight and my soul lays peaceful in contentment over a flowering bed. Mysterious doors, closed windows, old walls, stories waiting to be unveiled and told. Here there is no sadness, no fearful nights or injured memories. Half of me shall recovery here. Half of me shall find love here.

Just Make Something

I’ve been succeed in doing this project that I have idealized in my mind long time ago and I am so happy with the results. Now, I’ve a place to hang beautiful things like old paper ephemera, letters that I am currently writing to my dear pen pals, letters that I’ve received, bouquets with gypsophilas… I’ve placed this frame in my working place, and certainly it will help me to be more creative and inspired by the little treasures that hang there. Our hands are really an amazing gift that the universe offered us… I feel that the reason that we are alive is to create beauty and things that bring us and the ones that we love joy: Small things, the best things…

P.s – Soon will be a video showing how to do this frame, is pretty simple and I don’t even know if I am able to show it, but I will try.



Love Series – Is love Changeable?

“You have absorb’d me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I was dissolving – I should be exquisitely miserable without the hope of soon seeing you. I should be afraid to separate myself far from you. My sweet Fanny, will your heart never change? My love, will it? I have no limit now to my love – You note came in just here – I cannot be happier away from you – ‘T is richer than an Argosy of Pearles. Do not threat me even in jest.”

Is love changeable? Does love meets a beginning and an end? Does love grow? Does love expands and contracts like a beating heart? Does love die? All these questions. I need to find answers.

John Keats writes in his letter to Fanny Brawne about his feelings towards her: “My sweet Fanny will your heart never change? My love, will it? I have no limite now to my love…”. He has no limit at the present to his love, but in the future? Well, we know how it ends, Keats and Fanny didn’t belong together. Romantics lived so intensely their feelings, they were completely overwhelmed by everything – nature, love, friendship, etc. They were bond to this world with a transfixing and ethereal connection. The feelings were so intense that it was almost impossible to breath – their poetry showed an uncontrollable intoxication of feelings. It was perhaps too much, but if we don’t dare to live like romantics did, is life worth? Is love worth? Is art worth? Is literature worth?

Buddhism teach us to don’t grow attached to material things – to this mundane life.  Soon or later, everything will meet an “end”. We don’t own persons or things, we are here, in this life, just to absorb.

But why love has to end? But why are we enable to forgive, and learn to fall in love every day? Why?  So much lovers write love letters and suddenly, one day, they simply stop to do it. So, were we really in love? I believe in a kind of love that mutates, that never stops to reach a higher form of being. “Love is kind, love is patient!”, it must be! Love is like a butterfly, it mutates and in the end, something, beyond beautiful, is born.