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.