Marvão, Alentejo 2017, Portugal.
Marvão, Alentejo 2017, Portugal.
Tuesday, 3rd of October 2017
Fall arrived into a disappearing Summer, there is a terminus for everything but I keep going, following the traces left by the angels and the white butterflies. The flowers are withered, rain hasn’t been falling, so they faded, they faded into you. Should I replace the rain with my tears so they can bloom again? So you can be content again? Or should I wait, be hopeful … trust with patient that every terminus will encounter a beginning? Dedicated to Elsa.
Tuesday, 29th of August 2017
Always there they were. I guess after all, life unfolds as it should, and although it’s hard to accept it, we live the life which we are design for. I hope Grandpa is watching Grandma from above.
Dear Diary, //Let us be credulous that, one day, such joy will meet our way. // I’ve found a memory covered and hidden beneath the forgotten dust of time — and a past moment had unravel before my eyes as it was this very present moment, as it was my true essence.
Dusk it was, a particular moment of the day where this world and the other meet and become one. Where everything converge, twist and take a shape. Where everything around us is compelling and enticing, where our soul it isn’t a prisoner, isn’t contained, but instead disperse and free, connected with that invisible world, where, at once, is moon, light, sun, fortune, glory and hope. Dear Diary, I long for these kindred days.
Thursday, 25th of May 2017
There is something comforting about taking my socks off, resting my feet on the grass, and emptying my mind from my own howling thoughts… It’s magical permitting myself to feel the abandonment, the freedom from my personality, my middling interests and existing as an improvised tree. There is something magical about don’t move, don’t think, don’t speak. Something magnanimous about being and sparkle the warm-cold light of the dusk… There is something perpetual about my feet against the fuzzy grass that exhale the demons out of my body skin. //End of May and you are still faraway.//
I love flowers, I think it’s an obvious fact about me by now. I collect them too, I’ve several dried flowers inside of boxes, books, decorating my walls, in jars, inside of small flasks, and so on. And like me, many nature nostalgics do the same, so I decided to upload some beautiful and floral themed items in my shop.
The first listing is these floral coasters that you identify right away on my first photo. I found them so soft and delicate – it turns the simple act of drinking tea into a special moment.
These two frames with real dried flowers are so unique too!
And This oval golden frame? It’s so romantic, right? It makes me think of the long gone cluttered victorian houses. I think it brings immediately a cozy and charming atmosphere to every home.
So, if you are curious about these treasures, you are more than welcome to visit my shop. Wishing you all a nice week beginning.
I don’t know what to say… April did go really fast for me, did the same happen with you? I thought that I would enjoy deeply every day of this year, and, on the contrary, what I really feel is that everything is slipping through my fingers, speeding up in a way that I can’t even describe what have happen this year, it seems life is just happening in a numb manner … but maybe the antidote for all these emotions flowing through my skin is to do something…
So, in these two days off from work, I decided to pick up all my clothes that were unstitched in some particular spot and had fixed them. At the end, the constant anxiety about life, my bloody worries, all the emotions that I constantly feel, and that can only be translated into more worrying, were gone. I felt that my anxiety was placed with the satisfying feeling of accomplishment.
Light is attempting to fade discreetly but is still noon, only 5 o’clock, so why start to fade in such rush?
The night is still so distant from this particular hour, from my notion of time, and as I conjecture about the invention of life, my tea is blowing away a gentle a cloud of steam that blurs the present. But I am not thinking of the past, I am feeling it instead: I am smelling the scent of random moments like a true nostalgic soul.
It’s all so intensely real and everything starts with me breaking my mother’s womb, taking my first handful breath of fresh air, a disperse sun glance over my pale skin and my enormous brown eyes gazing into this new world. In all of these memories, I don’t regret the first steps that I dared to take, I just regret the way that I/we end up living — chained to a material world that doesn’t truly exist.
It Is Saturday and I saw this sweet furry cat resting without regrets. If it is possible, in my next life I long to reborn in something purer… a cat perhaps!