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"