This year in one picture

Happy New Year! This year I've said all I had to say, so what remains is a picture. Can one photo speak for a whole year? I'll do my best. Keep loving in 2009!


The picture would be a mystery to anybody, so I'll help you on the way. It is taken at a moment when I felt complete happiness.

Next year? I'll go into next year like this:



With all of my senses sharpened, attention to every detail, but still remembering to enjoy the feeling of [a hairy chest. Oops, little new year's joke there..] the warm sun on my body.

That's it. See you next year!

Tumbleweeds

I need to stop making my posts at this hour, but this can't wait. Just got home from a night out and I once again was lucky (yes, lucky, because this person radiates good vibes and positive energy) to stumble into the vocalist of Tumbleweeds. I adore him. He is a true star when it comes to spreading positive vibes.

Anyhoo..He told me that they had a song out on myspace, and naturally, the first thing I did coming home this late night - early morning was to check it out. You do it too, it's called The Gutter and i like it.

Follow your dreams

I believe in dreams. I also believe we once in a while notice that some dreams speak to us on a deeper level than others. It should be quite easy
to separate those dreams from the more ordinary ones. Some of the most deeply affecting moments in my life have occurred after very strong dreams. Shouting loud and clear what within days have been shown in real life. Last night I had one. I don't believe it is as much of an epiphany as it is a reminder.

The girl cried big, round tears. They rolled down her cheek. "Don't cry", I said. "This feels bad right now, but soon you will see, you can still fulfill your dreams." She looked at me with a sparkle of hope in her eyes. They seemed to ask "Do you promise?". "Keep following you dream, keep doing what your heart wants you to do. Even if it at some point seems that your dreams won't come true, they probably will. Sometimes they will chose another way than the one we imagined." The girl looked at me. She had stopped crying. "How do you know all this?", she asked. "I am no life coach", I said, "but I do know how to speak from my heart".

So that was the reminder: Keep doing what your heart tells you to. Dreams sometimes come true in different ways than we've planned.

I still lean on you

Merry Christmas. It's already an hour into Christmas eve, I look forward to sleeping in this morning. Today my note is blue, despite a family dinner at my very own dinner table. With all gathered around it, even those who were not supposed to make it. Why the note is blue, that is a mystery to me. I guess some layers inside of my soul were touched by something I can't put my finger on.

A strong sense of self
That is what I feel tonight.
A sense of importance
of standing on my own two feet.
Because also strong connections sometimes will fail
and leave us leaning onto what we are. In ourselves.
It is strange how I still do
see thoughts and feelings grow from you.
Even though the detachment is done
and I know it's something I've overcome.
I still lean on you.
Knowing you have your ways
of picking me up, letting me down,
but always - always - helping me stand tall,
lifting me up when ever I fall.

I still lean on you.
Even though I know, I'd stand tall without you.
Even though.
I never could have known
a person like you would walk into my life.
To build up what I am.
To tear down what I was afraid of.

Building, My strong sense of self.

It's early in the morning,
but honey, I ain't sleeping yet.
I'm out surfing
and it is no mistake,
I know what I am looking for
There are G and Jack and Eddie
Rodeo clowns and Constellations,
-- and by now I know
I know where I'm heading --
Some tunes from Ben and it's all I need
Dreaming away, chasing tunes
Letting the music become the moves
of oceans building up inside
Honey, it is a high tide.
It might be the magic of being part
of the darkness of a winter morning, but --
when light comes and pushes away
Jack and the clowns and the rest of the bunch
-- I still need it to be true, all of those and me and you
and all of what still is left
between layers of life
Just to know for sure that
magic does happen and sometimes
it'll take the shape
of tunes on the tube
building up
a soulful mood.

And when I'll finally close my eyes I know
That's all we need.

A fragile enough state

This year is coming to its end, and as typical human beings, we tend to analyze what the year brought to us, as well as bring forward our hopes for the coming year.

This year I have managed to stay clear sighted about many things. Everything has not dawned on me straight away, but with time I have seen pieces fall into place. To see things in life for what they really are, one has to be in a fragile enough state, I believe. At least that is how I have become more sensitive to the world and my own life. We get what we need, we really do. Sometimes straight away, sometimes in time. Sometimes we just realize afterwards.

So maybe I didn't notice everything this year, maybe some miracles passed me by without ever touching. But those will become clear later on.

In some way I feel that last year was about opening my soul to the world, I became, in many ways, the person I am now. This year was about receiving. This year was about learning how to read signs. With a soul bare naked it is so much easier than when we try to cover up. I am stripped to the bone.

So what about next year? Do I have hopes? Certainly. Plenty. But one of them is to stay as bare naked as I am right now, not to lose touch with my soul, not to lose the connection. With the world, with life, with those in my life who make me who I am.

What about you?

I'll carry that

It's a long way from now to our past.
Still we're dragging a lot with us.
No matter how certain we are
that a lot of it should have been left along the way.
Still knowing a lot of it was what drew the paths we made.
Also new ones.
Making us wonder.
Was what we did right?
But choosing to believe,
it was all for the best.
Cause when a decision is made
it would be weakness to say
"STOP! Let me get off right here!"
"Even if I'd have to walk all the way back.
All the way to the station where I got on."
And so we choose not to.
We carry on, travelling in the direction
we set off in.
And why is that?
Would all the heavy baggage that we carry with us
be too hard to explain?
Never considering
someone might give us a hand saying
"I'll carry that".

The second you sleep

This morning I suddenly realized that my Saybia CD had been on the bottom of my collection for a too long time. Saybia to me, that Danish wonder, is bittersweet, painful, longing, straight from the heart, piercing the soul, wonderful music, a masterpiece. My favourite for ever is The second you sleep. Please right-click the link and enjoy the song in a new window, so that you can read the lyrics while listening. This is what it's all about, when the heart cries silently.

The second you sleep

You close your eyes
And leave me naked by your side
You close the door so I can’t see
The love you keep inside
The love you keep for me

It fills me up
It feels like living in a dream
It fills me up so I can’t see
The love you keep inside
The love you keep for me

I stay
To watch you fade away
I dream of you tonight
Tomorrow you’ll be gone
It gives me time to stay
To watch you fade away
I dream of you tonight
Tomorrow you’ll be gone
I wish my God you’d stay

I stay awake
I stay awake and watch you breathe
I stay awake and watch you fly
Away into the night
Escaping through a dream

I stay
To watch you fade away
I dream of you tonight
Tomorrow you’ll be gone
It gives me time to stay
To watch you fade away
I dream of you tonight
Tomorrow you’ll be gone
I wish my God you’d stay

Hey
Stay

I stay
To watch you fade away
I dream of you tonight
Tomorrow you’ll be gone
It gives me time to stay
To watch you fade away
I dream of you tonight
Tomorrow you’ll be gone
It gives me time to stay
To watch you fade away
I dream of you tonight
Tomorrow you’ll be gone
I wish my God you’d stay

Stay awake
Stay
Stay

I wish my God you’d stay

Extremely lucky

Yesterday I woke up and felt extremely lucky. I didn't know where that feeling came from, I just knew I had a great day ahead. I had breakfast in company of Eddie Vedder before leaving for work and I put on my Happy Buddha necklace to reinforce that feeling of luck. It stayed the whole day. I got some Christmas shopping done, I felt happy when taking them to the post office, sending away doublets of my heart.

This morning I woke up with a headache, but that's ok. I put on Eddie Vedder's Into the wild and I immediately felt that wave of luck coming towards me. Turning on the cpu to pay a bill I noticed surprise no. 1 for this day (as I feel there could be more of them coming): I had had a tax refund I didn't remember was coming. Not bad for a Saturday morning if you ask me!

Now the secret of a happy life? I found it, and it's Eddie. Try it, you'll see.

Icy views

This Sunday morning outside the window is grayish, the snow has melted, people have yet not awaken after the so many pre-christmas parties of the weekend. Last Sunday, though, a storm blew stronger along the day. I had to fight my way home in the evening, laughing as I pushed forward. It was ridiculous to be out on a bike in that weather. But I made it home, and as I put on the lights to light my flat, I saw the beauty of the storm, iced on my window.



If any music goes with this view more than perfectly, it is David Gray.

Winter in my lens

First real snow.


Saturday morning.

I didn't wash that shirt

I didn't wash that shirt.
Day by day is returns to be
more of an ordinary shirt.
One that has the scent of me.
Instead of your sheets.
For days it kept me.
Lingering.
Oh.
So sweet
are those memories.
Encapsulated in the fabric.
I feel my head fall back.
Just from that sweetness.
Enjoying the beauty
of imagination.
Memories.
It is hard for me to see
you do the same.
Do you?
Would you?
Oh.
So sweet.
Is that image.
Perfect.
Thrilling.
Or would you just rip them out of your bed,
those sheets.
To start a brand new day.
Not to linger.
In anything that is no more?

Auf der anderen Seite

It is snowing. Big, white chunks are slowly, slowly falling down from a black sky, landing on black streets. I am about to start my Saturday evening in good company, but before that it's time for a "Must see".

I just watched Auf der anderen Seite (Edge of Heaven) by Fatih Akin. Beautiful, beautiful movie. And not just because of Istanbul. As beautiful as the movie and it's title auf Deutsch, are the sceneries, the language, the emotions that come forward in all different colours, hate and love, rage and tenderness, self and other, separation and togetherness.

Something I haven't seen yet, but will, is Waltz with Bashir.
Two things about it: 1) The beauty of the animation and 2) The soundtrack:

This is not a love song (Public Image Ltd)
I swam out to sea - Return (Max Richter)
The Haunted Ocean (Max Richter)
JSB - RPG (Max Richter)

Ah, the beauty of music. I'm mesmerized.

Some of these days

Some of these days - my inspiration tonight.

You are my last day of summer

Fresh thoughts are to be written down fresh, before second thoughts come in to alter the flowing rivers of the soul. Despite the late hour, here's the poetry of this night's flight, here are the thoughts that grew under the dark sky.

The tunes to accompany the thoughts are, for different reasons, Daniel Lemma - If I used to love you and Citizen Cope - Hurricane waters.

You are my last day of summer
You are my last day of the vacation. The one I'd like for to go on forever and never stop Even though all it takes to realize it has come to an end, is a trip to the airport. Knowing, that I'll never know, whether I'll ever have that again.

You are what I return to in my mind, when later on, bittersweet memories enter behind closed eyelids, flowing through my body, like waves of an ocean. (And I let them.) I'll remember thoughts, words, sounds, scents. (The contour of your mouth, making you look so peaceful when you sleep.) I'll remember the sweetness of the breakfast coffee, (the scent of your skin). I'll remember all of that and so much more. I'll remember the restlessness I grew for leaving you.

You, like the last day of summer, making me paint a picture in my mind. Filling it with the landscapes of my soul, the love in my heart. Not ever to forget what that last day felt like, with you, if I'll never relive it again.

Calleth you, cometh I

Tonight one of my dear friends reminded me of this song by the Ark, Calleth you, cometh I. Definitely worth 4 minutes or so to put in it. And put in some thought to it, I think it's sad. And sadly, that's how it often goes, leaving only bitter sweet memories in the shadows of one's heart.

Calleth you, cometh I
And I know we were both too young way back when we had our thing
and you're not the one that i think of everytime that the telephone rings
and i know that what we had would not be called love by the ones who know
and i know it's been many years and hundred love affairs ago
I know all that so well but i also do know this

Calleth you, cometh I
and that's just how it is
and how it is always been

It's were my reason stops
and something else comes in

I know it doesn't make sense
but still.
Calleth, you cometh I

And that's how it is

And I know we became restrained everytime we were among friends
And I know how it was last time and how bitterly it always ends
And I know we were both too young to know what real love would be like
And i know our communication didn't always work out right.

I know all that so well but I also do know this

Calleth you, cometh I
And that's just how it is
And how it's always been

It 's were my reason stops
and something else comes in

I know it doesn't make sense
but still
calleth you, cometh I
and I've been waiting for this so long, waiting to sing this song
for you

Love Lowe

Have a few seconds to write an entry - and surely I will. Otherwise you'd have to wait to hear about Lowe. On Wednesday I got their CD Kino International into my hands - straight from the horse's mouth - and not knowing at all what to expect - I was very positively surprised.

Being a huge Depeche Mode fan for about 20 years, I never thought I'd hear anything that would reach that same level of incredibly well made electronic punk/pop. Well, Lowe actually does, and listening to the album makes me feel a bit like having a new Depeche Mode cd in my hands, and that it's better than those before. WOW!

Leo's voice fits the sounds like a glove and I feel within time it'll give even more depth to the package. I cannot say how psyched I am by having this newcomer in my collection of extraordinary music. After having the possibility to talk to Leo Josefsson as well as Richard Gunnarsson, I get the feeling these guys won't stop before they have the whole world at their feet. Modestly put.

The hat

It is amazing how many beautiful things my grandmother has had! A true woman of style! The latest finding that found its way into my collection of vintage items is a felt hat in camel colour, with a brown band and a rolled felt button. Judging by the shape I would say from the 1960's. It's beautiful and it will serve as an autumn hat quite well.



It's all in the detail!



Then - after using the rubber boots through rainy days, a new pair came up, a pair of high-heeled overshoes, yes, that's correct. Hollow inside to fit high-heels in double. Extraordinary! That is a pair that seems quite old and judging by the look of them and after some comparison with a museum site, I'd say 1950.



And yes, It's all in the detail:

Some bloom over night

My chili woke me up in bloom this autumn morning!

You can sell your time

I need to post a link to all of you, leading to an interview with one of my favourite writers, Paulo Coelho, at the Frankfurt book fair. It's always enjoyable to hear Coelho speak about the philosophy that is put forward in all of his books, and this exclusive interview is worth spending some 23 minutes on.
You can sell your time, but you can't buy it back, said Coelho, and I encourage you to INVEST your time in this one.

Gut feeling and choices

Is trusting your gut feeling and intuition a good idea when making choices? I've started to wonder. I've had to make a great deal of choices lately when deciding on what I want from life and particularly from work. Always going with my gut feeling has been a way of living so far, and it's only lately that I've started to second guess it.

My brother, who I love dearly, told me when asking his thoughts about it: Always trust your intuition and gut feeling. It might be wrong, but what's important is that it came from somewhere. Gut feelings don't come in vain.

I'd like to believe he's right (as big brothers are supposed to be), but still I'm wondering.

Here's the case: Going with your intuition might not take you where you thought you were going - however - you never know what you avoided by making that decision. We'll never know what would have happened going in the other direction, right?

I'd also like to believe that our intuition is what we might call our true self. My intuition = the real me. All people should follow their own path, create their own pattern of footprints in the sand of the beach we call life. Following our gut feeling and our intuition would in that case mean expressing our true self by following our heart. The print might be a winding path and I guess it scarcely ever will be a straight line, but the important thing is that the direction is the right one. We might as well enjoy the new things we see along the road, even when we are taking different roads than the ones we'd marked on the map. We might learn a thing or two on the way.

The wedding dress

Last night I bought a wedding dress - without a wedding to come. I remember the dream vividly, but more than anything, I remember the dress. It was dark violet to its colour, and it was filled with flowers. The hem was a green lace and partially ripped. It didn't bother me, I could easily fix it, I said.

Buying the dress made me very happy, but bringing it home gave me the thought of what if it'll ruin the whole thing, buying a wedding dress before having even a groom?

Ben meets Rasmus

Yesterday the post office made me happy and delivered two cd's I've been waiting for.

1. Ben Harper & the Innocent criminal's Lifeline
2. The Rasmus' Black Roses

Well - nobody can blame me for having a restricted taste in music. I am well aware of how totally different these two albums are. And in their differences they seem to give me an equal amount of joy and pleasure.

Ben Harper was a nice time machine, taking me back to London, July 2nd this year. It was my first encounter with Ben & the Innocent criminals, hopefully not the last. The title song is an obvious choice as a favourite tune, as Fight outta you, but I must say the whole album creates a mood and a setting that I enjoy very much.

The Rasmus - I'd just read a critic say that the Rasmus kind of lost it to doing the same thing over and over again. Maybe so - but for me, they are doing the thing I love over and over again. It is no brain surgery, that's for sure, but it still has some very valuable sides to it. The album is produced by Desmond Child, which is noticeable. Favourites? Living in a world without you, Your forgiveness - both of those, according to me, the core of what the Rasmus is.

A stranger made me feel

A stranger made me feel
What I always looked for in you
I was worthy
- of your love
That's what a stranger made me feel

After so many times
of opening my heart
of pouring out my love
to anyone passing by
just to feel
- alive.

After so many years
of waiting for this life
to take its course and remain true
to where ever it'd lead
- even if it wasn't to you.

Then along came this stranger
that took me by the hand
Made me feel all of what my heart 'd
been lacking
Made me understand.

Now I've taken
so many turns
I've started to forget
What makes me hurt.

I guess it's a good thing
Or then I'm just growing numb
From always loving so much
Waiting for that one refund.

So much love I gained in my life
I never laid out as much.
I've made investments that have paid
More gold than I ever thought to touch.

So is this feeling of emptiness
Just a sign of my selfishness
Never getting enough,
Always wishing for more?

I'd better start loving someone more sure.

Saturday quote

"[..] he saw the look of despair in her eyes and understood that she, too, had had to face the profound absurdity of the human condition. For that, if for no other reason, he would have loved her. But he had other reasons too."
The Enchantress of Florence

Happy 100 Boots

It's a Happy Hundred day at Nihil Declaro - Nothing to declare. It started out with some Pablo Neruda (are there any other ways?) and today, a hundred entries later we are stopping at rubber boots.

It was a good day yesterday, I had been waiting for rain for two weeks, and finally there was something that could be called some kind of rain.

Why on earth am I, who love being in the sun, waiting for rain? Well, that all started when I found my grandmother's old high healed NOKIA rubber boots. They were literally screaming my name! Sadly I don't know from what year they are. That's my new quest.

And yesterday that's what I wore, bicycling through the city on my way to work, hoping everybody would see the treasure I was wearing.

Cappuccino of the day

Ok, this starts to be ridiculous - but I'm still gonna do it!
The cappuccino of the day looks like this:



I enjoyed it from my grandmother's old Arabia cups, the same ones that I had my hot chocolate from as a child when visiting my grandparents. Believe me when I say that anything tastes like heaven, when spiced up with warm memories.

Her way of moving

Good morning!
Isn't it great to start the morning with a perfect cappuccino? I can't think of many better things. This is my cappuccino of this morning, quite beautiful, don't you think?


I am sorry - again - for an absence that can not be defended in any way. It seems less important things in life, like work, have been taking a hold of me, keeping me from writing down my thoughts.

Well, I must admit, it has not only been work, but also the fact that I have spent many evenings doing what I love - dancing.
But now we have just what I need to make a return - a Saturday morning.

I love waking up to autumn. This is my new view.


Yesterday evening, after watching one of Yves Roberts's fantastic movies, La gloire de mon père (please also have a taste of the film that came afterwords, with the same people, Le château de ma mère), I started reading a book I got from a person I love. It's Salman Rushdie's "The Enchantress of Florence". Given the magic relationship I have with Florence, the choise of the book was quite obvious.

I have a love affair with the gift of knowing how to connect words to each other in a way that will turn an every day thing into magic, that will spread flakes of gold onto the grey world, and make it shimmer before our eyes.

I had not read even the first page of the book, when I ran into just that. It was a quote of Francesvo Petrarca, translated by A.S. Kline:

Her way of moving was no mortal thing
but of angelic form: and her speech
rang higher than a mere human voice.

A celestial spirit, a living sun
was what I saw...

Once again, with words put like that in front of me, I remain speechless, on my knees, spellbound.

I fell asleep after only the first chapter, but so far, I like what I've read, I like being pulled into the poetical world of words, where The Enchantress of Florence is taking me.

Read more about the book.

I believe we can never read too many books, we can never hear too much music, we can never dance too much and we can never spend too much time at the dinner table with people we love. So go ahead, people, make the best of it, spoil yourselves and those you love. Enjoy the autumn leaves and all of their colours.

New beginnings

There is something remarkable about moving into a new home. It's something about the feeling of a second chance, of new beginnings. It is a bit naive, I guess, but the new surroundings (even though for me, it's two blocks from where I've spent the last year) seem to bring with them also a new set of hopes and dreams.

So is it really just a foolish thing to feel, that a new flat might give me a new chance in finding love, friendship, happiness?

Or is it maybe possible, that moving two blocks farther north will bring new winds, open up to new sceneries, for new ways of relating to life? I like to believe that. I believe new sceneries will always make us see things in a different light - because the change of angle. For me at least, my first night in my new flat will be the beginning of something new. Let's wait and see.

This year so many changes have taken place. As one of my friends said, it all started when I cut my hair. So what do we know, maybe small things can start an avalanche, put life in movement, make things happen.

Mist

Today I woke up and soon noticed that the world around me was hiding in a thick mist.

Result: One piece of barenaked lady (well, almost) with a camera in her hand on the balcony taking pictures. Since I am heading for new views from a new apartment, I enjoy capturing these last scenes from this one.

At 7:20


2 minutes later it's already clearing up. Those with good eyes can see my sage in the lower left corner. Great on a sandwich for breakfast.

Is it really September?

Is it really September already?

That feels strange. I guess what happened to Juliet also happened to me, losing days getting caught up in life. Not a good sign. We need to stay focused to the world around us - so that we don't miss that scent of autumn in the morning, leaves turning more yellow day by day, apple trees letting go of their fruit. Because that is life, not those calendar pages filling up.

I have a Sunday poem for this marvelous Saturday.

My steaming cup of Illy
Reminds me of mornings of fall
And how I enjoyed waking up
By myself.

A steaming cup of Illy
Can make almost anyone
Selfish.

It's not that I wouldn't want to
Share it with you.
Or with anybody
that fills my soul with Joy.
It's just that
I don't mind sharing it
with Nobody
Making that cup
-- Making that day
My own.

Have you ever

Have you ever felt surrounded
By a circle of love
That radiates so that you can almost
See the waves moving towards you
Through the air?

You know it's golden, that circle
It really is. Pure gold.

A story about love

- You can tell only one story, the man said, holding a gun to my head. - What is it going to be?
I wasn't afraid of the gun. He could shoot me or let me live - it was all the same. I had done all I was sent here to do, I had accomplished my mission a long time ago. What was left was something I saw as a vacation.
- It is a story about love, I said, and was quite sure of what I was doing. Stories about love always touched people. Even those who'd never loved - because they hungered so badly for it.

- Is it about lost love or found love? the man asked. He was pressing the gun even harder against my head now. I could feel my skin stretch under it.
- It's about both, I said. - It's about a found love that I lost.
- But why? Who wants to hear about lost love? The man looked perplexed. - Why don't you only tell about the love you found, why don't you leave out the losing part. Didn't you lose a part of yourself losing that love?
I could suddenly hear a gentle tone in the man's voice. He had lost love as well, I gathered. Maybe that was why he now was pressing a gun to someone's head. I wasn't to take it personal. It could probably have been anyone in my place.
- Yes, I said. - I lost a big part of myself when losing that love. For a long time I felt like half the human being I used to be, like I'd been punished for something.

I gazed at the man for a second. The wrinkles around his eyes were deep. He wasn't that old, I thought. Those wrinkles were there because of the pain he'd felt, not because of all of the rays of sun and wind he'd walked through in life.
- But I also gained something from losing that love, I continued, still watching his wrinkles move like waves on an ocean. - I gained the experience of the universe. I gained the feelings of every single human being on this planet. I could, for a few moments in time, feel all human experiences flow through me. They left a mark in every cell of my body, in every single hair attached to the skin.
I felt the gun lift from my head, the touch of it disappeared for a short second, then it was placed there again.
- And now? Do you still feel it?
I shook my head. - No, I don't. That is not a feeling that will stay for a long time. It will just pass through. It is more of a reminder of that it's all a part of something bigger. I don't feel it anymore, but at the same time, I will never again be the same as I was before I felt it.
I watched the man. I could see in his eyes he didn't want to kill me anymore. He might do it anyway, but he probably couldn't really grasp the thought of why he was gonna kill me anymore.

- Can I give you something? I asked. - I'd like you to read a book I have in my bag. Can I pick it up?
Again the wrinkles started twitching, jumping up and down. The man got nervous. - Where is it? I'll take it.
- It's here in my bag. You'll find it. I tilted my head towards the bag.
I saw the man stretch out his hand inside my bag. He grabbed the book and pulled it out. He looked at it.
- Paulo Coelho, he said. - I've heard about him.
- Yes, you probably have, I said. - That book is one of my favorites, it's called "Like the flowing river". I want you to have that book and read it. Inside you will find all those feelings I told you about. You will feel you are worth them as well.
- Are you sure? The man looked at me, with doubt in his eyes. - Yes, I promised and felt the gun be pulled away from my head. - Read it, you'll see.

Marooning

Marooning
[1. To put ashore on a deserted island or coast and intentionally abandon.

2. To abandon or isolate with little hope of ready rescue or escape: The travelers were marooned by the blizzard.] (The Free Online Dictionary)

Music: I have found the latest Maroon5 album It won't be soon before long among my CD:s - and I love it, I always did. It has been whirling on the plate for a week now. I feel Adam Levine under my skin. And I do not object to that in any way. It's his voice. Yeah, it probably is his voice.

Check out their ever so stylish website that includes the songs as well.

Built a wall around my heart
I'll never let it fall apart
But strangely I wish secretly
It would fall down while I'm asleep
[Nothing lasts forever]

Silver, but no second place

I have a wedding to attend today. With all the dresses in the world, it always seems I find myself modifying mine the evening before. A couple of stitches here and there to make it perfect.

So let's see what today's style will be. I call it Silver, but no second place.

The dress. Picked it up in London in July, with some modifications, attaching the belt a bit higher to give it more of an empire look.



The shoes. My feet will hurt like hell after today, but thinking of the work of the front end of the shoe I hope it'll be worth it. I have never had a pair of so uncomfortable shoes, but sometimes you just need to have a shoe because the beauty to it, right?


The bag. Simple, goes extremely well with the shoe.


The accessories. Ties the whole thing together quite well, don't you think? Now I just need to do something to "the mask".

I want to talk about music, but I have no time, need to start getting ready, music will have to wait.

Certain qualities

All these men and their music! Have you noticed I rarely push forward a female vocalist?

The last two days I've been in the very nice company of Matt Wertz, having his music play in the background as I've worked. Not bad, or one could even say quite good.

He is not one of a kind, but he has got certain qualities that make you want to hear more. I listen to some stuff, both old and new, and I must say I like Over you, The way I feel is nice and has a good rhythm, Everything's right is a pearl - I can see myself behind the wheel with that in the background. On my way.

Have a listen, won't you.

Thank you

Thank you
For making me feel
Like a piece of perfect design
Like a masterpiece
Like touched by the sun
When touched
By you.

Thank you
For letting me be
What I was before
You ever laid your eyes
On me.

Thank you
For making me feel
With you
I could be even more
Because every time
You laid your eyes on me
I felt
Like touched by the sun
Like there would be no boundaries
To what we could become.

Thank you
For seeing
The diamond in rough
In me.

Paris en vue

Parisians direct

My Paris-experience brought me knowledge about many things. One thing I learned actually came by teaching a real-life Parisian something.

§ 1 In many cases women think, that guys who follow them are probable creeps. The woman will either run to shake the guy off her, or give the guy the finger.
§ 2 It is not better to follow a woman along the river than in the metro.
§ 3 A woman taking her sweater off is not necessarily a sign of interest towards the accidental guy.

Teaching these lessons to the real-life Parisian, or let's say accidental friend, I learned some valuable lessons myself.

§ 1 Guys who follow women are not always creeps, they might also be not-too-bad Parisians who show their interest.
§ 2 Some Parisians might think that stalking a woman by the river won't be seen as creepy, when again accordingly stalking a woman in the metro can understandably be a bit pervert.
§ 3 A woman taking her sweater off can in some cases be a clear sign of interest towards the accidental guy.

I have seldom been in such honest company, and heard such direct language. It was refreshing, actually. No beating around the bush, no nothing just for the sake of something. It feels like someone opened a window.

Scenes from a restaurant

There are many pleasures in discovering Paris seule. First and foremost, you don't miss anything happening around you because you're chattering with your partner in crime. Secondly, you get the attention from the locals, that probably feel bad for you thinking you have no friends. Well, not the worst case scenario, if you ask me.

Spending a week in Paris, more or less alone, I made it into a sport trying to find restaurants with the right atmosphere. Succeeded every now and then, but not every time.

One clear success was a restaurant, at the corner of Rue de Tilsitt and Avenue de Wagram, that was founded in the beginning of the last century, with illustrations of other important events that took place the same year. The restaurant in it self was very nice, but the prize must be given to the waiters that should have an Oscar for the scenes they played to amuse a lonely traveller.

Scene 1:
Waiter no. 1: “One or two menus?”
Traverller: “One.”
Waiter no. 1: “Are you eating alone?”
Traveller: “Yes.”
Waiter no. 1: “What if I join you?”
Traveller: “Please do.”
Waiter no. 1: Kisses Traveller on the cheek. “Welcome to Paris!”

Scene 2:
Waiter no. 2: “Are you eating alone?”
Traveller: “Yes.”
Waiter no. 2: Kisses Traveller on the cheek. “Welcome to Paris!”

Scene 3:
Waiter no. 2: Kisses Traveller on the cheek. “Welcome to Paris!”
Waiter no 1: Signs 'He's crazy' to Traveller.

Scene 4:
Waiter no. 2: Kisses Traveller on the cheek. “Welcome to Paris! I love you.”
Traveller: “I really start to feel welcome.”

Scene 5:
Waiter no. 2: Kisses Traveller on the cheek. “Is the food good?”
Traveller: “Excellent.”
Waiter no. 2: “Just like you – the food and you are alike, just excellent!”

Well, no need to write no more scenes. The whole dinner was a big “welcome to Paris.”

It was most interesting to follow these two hard-working guys at their best. Running a marathon, I believe, during the busy Friday evening. Not showing any reaction when one customer after another left their table, giving up on getting fast service. Well, I guess I got the best service there was to get that evening. Always a plus eating alone. And then the marathon continued, hips hitting into chairs, bread falling out of baskets, tableware hitting against each other. I bought no ticket to the evening show at the theater, but I got the show, alright.

When paths get tangled

So what do you think really happens
When paths get tangled
And you can't really tell
one from the other?

And how do you suppose we could follow
Footsteps that get tangled in each other
When there isn't really a way of telling
Which way they lead
Going back and forth
From one place to another
And back again.

Back again.

Tattoo Poetry

The day we'll stop loving
The skies will turn dark
The trees will let go of their leaves
The freezing cold will invade our hearts
The obscure will colour our souls

Emptiness will grow strong
Fear will lay down beside us
Through those dark nights
It'll whisper in our ear
"You'll always walk alone"

We'll choose to let love
fill our hearts
And turn the skies bright blue
We'll see the trees bloom
We'll feel the heat on our skin
filling our souls with light,
with warmth
Holding us through those dark nights, whispering
"You'll never walk alone"

Poem of the night

Like fire they were burning
As I closed my eyes
No to keep them dry
But to hold on to those tears
For in them was all of what I used to be

My hopes
My dreams
My losses
My fears
My triumphs
My failures

All of what I'd given
All of what I'd gained
All of what I'd suffered
All of what I'd claimed

Letting them go
I could not do
As it felt too early
To be separated
From --

From my history
From my past
From all of those grains of sand
that traced the path

Of all of my steps as well as those of them before.

We all knew we were something more
That those traces were only reflecting
Mere shadows of what used to be

By letting go of all of what we thought to be
By opening up for new worlds to see
By untying the grip of what made us before
By understanding that letting go would give us more

I opened my eyes
- Not to see
But to let go of the tears burning
From the memories of all that used to be me.

As the tear watered my cheek I was free.

A state of perfection

Forget about every single line of text I've posted before.

WHY?

Because never before have I entered such a state of perfection, such a state I am in right now. I can feel life flow through me with a force of the universe. I feel all experiences of mankind inside my heart. Right now.

It might sound ridiculous, but what pushed me into this state of extremely profound well-being, of extremely intense LIFE is the book I mentioned some posts ago, Everything is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer.

Again, you say? Didn't we discuss that already? Yes. We did. But I was not ready for this at that time. What pushed me over that fine line was an experience that - believe me or not - is created as pure marketing. And as it still holds its grip around my heart, as the pressure of the hand squeezes my heart into a space not big enough for its force, I am left overwhelmed.

So what happened?

I received the movie by the same name as the book yesterday. I didn't watch it. I was too tired, so I decided to postpone it.

And this morning I entered the world of Jonathan Safran Foer's imagination. It is a beautiful, beautiful world, I'm telling you. And it hit me like I'd ran into a brick wall. And it left me - well, as I said - in a state of perfection.

I wanted to read about what other people had said about the book Everything is illuminated - the book that is on the top of my list right now.

I stumbled over a website. It is called "Who is Augustine", following the quest of the book.

The website gives a total experience of the magic of the book. It has captured it all. (I am sorry. I feel this one will become my second Neruda. Something I will never be able to let go.)

In the section "Visit the Ukraine" you'll find the pieces that in my eyes were hit by the strongest beam of magic.
You will find The Chorus of The Dial Waltz Song for Soon-to-Be-Married Men. You will find the Kolker and Brod making love through the hole in the wall separating them from each other. With the beautiful

"The three lovers pressed against one another, but never fully touched."

I will hate returning back to normal life after this. The website was made, for not so surprisingly the customer Jonathan Safran Foer, by era//404.

I need to dig deeper in this. I will need to make Foer's The Project Museum my next quest. And hopefully, it will suck me even deeper into this state of perfection.

Paris in the morning

I have a friend that cheers me up if I'm low and who keeps my beat going on a good day. I call him Last, but he goes by the full name Last.fm.

The thing is, Last always shows me his latest findings. He will take an artist I like and give me a lot of new stuff that I never knew about, mixed with some of my favourites of the day.

It's almost funny, because I never meet up with Last without a pen and some paper.

Just now he showed me Joe Purdy. He played me a song from Purdy's Paris in the morning album. And as I'm planning a week in Paris right now, it surely caught my attention.

So off I went, to discover this Joe Purdy some more. I like his Can't get it right today. I also like the rhythm of Waiting on something good from the Paris album. I will have to look into him some more. Purdy has an excellent player on his website, so just go on and have a listen. My analysis so far is that Purdy is a man of lazy mornings. When the coffee is on its way and one is, without any hurry in the world, smoking the first cigarette of the day while looking out on all those people that seem to have been awake for hours, rushing around. (I am no smoker but I guess I should be.)

Different. Well, I'm getting back to Last now.

Sudden rush

A sudden rush of melancholy
Like rain coming from nowhere
It showered me
Leaving me cold.
I guess I brought it upon me
I guess it was my fault
For returning in my mind to times--
Dwelling.
[2. To exist in a given place or state] Yes. ...
Lingering.
[1. To be slow in leaving, especially out of reluctance; tarry. See Synonyms at stay1. Yes, definitely.
2. To remain feebly alive for some time before dying. That's how it feels.
3. To persist: an aftertaste that lingers. Yes, it won't let me go.
4. To proceed slowly; saunter. Because I feel I have to. (And I'm wearing heavy boots) [see below *]
5. To be tardy in acting; procrastinate.] Because I cannot hinder myself. ...
All of this
After a day of sun
After having the warmth tickle my skin
And I felt like twitching involuntary like from the anticipated touch of a lover.

My God. How can I let in the sun again? When it will feel like the touch of your lips? How can I open my eyes again and see the sky, without feeling the ubiquitous sensation of loss?

Yes. I felt life rushing through me as the wind touched my skin. For a moment I - again - found myself lingering in the feeling of your stroke.

Someone is smoking a cigarette. I wouldn't mind having one myself. To smoke all of this off.

* I desperately wish I had my tambourine with me now, because even after everything I'm still wearing heavy boots, and sometimes it helps to play a good beat. (From Extremely loud and incredibly close by Jonathan Safran Foer)

I love Jonathan. I love his way of writing, of escaping. Read Extremely loud [...] and continue with Everything is illuminated. A masterpiece. I guess I should see it on film as well, the trailer paints a beautiful landscape in ones heart, don't you think.

My heart is not broken

My heart is not broken, even though judging from my posts lately, one could imagine it is. I just love the wave of emotions a broken heart sets off. Wouldn't life be a drag, if we'd never experience emotions bigger than life itself?

Today I've been accompanied by John Mayer and his Continuum album. One of my favourites, Dreaming with a broken heart, has given the day a blue tune, one I enjoyed.

When you're dreaming with a broken heart
The waking up is the hardest part
You roll outta bed and down on your knees
And for the moment you can hardly breathe
Wondering was she really here?
Is she standing in my room?
No she's not, 'cause she's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone....

I counted the loves in these words

I promised not to cry.
I promised.
I couldn't make you love me.
And I--
I tried hard to be brave, but I failed.
I had a billion emotions within me.
I laid them all before you.
One by one.
As my love.
Letter by letter.
A sensation of lightness that gave me.
But it was hard--
Knowing, that the closest to perfection would've been
Knowing that I made you feel the same way.
As I did.
Loving you.
Loving me.
I counted the loves in these words.
There were plenty.
And yet--
The tears I decided not to cry.
They were all at my feet.
A river that was.
I saw it run.
Down the street.
It mixed with the rain.
And forever--
The proof of my love.
Was gone.

Magical moments

You can catch a glimpse of one
if being lucky enough
to raise your glance at the right moment.

They appear somewhere in the betweens
of dusk and dawn.
They are a part of winter and spring, summer and fall.

Magical moments
Drawn in the skies
Spreading a magical feeling
that in a split second will pass you by.

Last night I caught one
How lucky I was
to raise my glance at the right moment
Not to have it pass me by.

It coloured the summer night sky
But that was not all
It opened up to another dimension
Amazed I watched
the opening of the door.

As the red sky coloured the world beneath
I knew what showed, wasn't all
The red shimmer could be seen by anybody awake
While I alone knew about the secret door.

It was a magical moment
For some maybe
just an ordinary summer night sky.