Tuesday, October 27, 2009


Grace and beauty do not come very often in life, they are mostly scattered around a lifetime and sometimes they never show up when they are needed so whenever they do, it is necessary to welcome them. Beauty is a fickle lady, you'll never be young again, you'll never have a wrinkle free face ever again, you'll never be as soft and tender as the moment when you feel grace blooming within. There will never be another time for this, spring will not last forever so let us take it in with open arms and rest quietly in its crown of glory.

There are two things that I will always find graceful

swans and ballerinas.

I'll never be ballerina so for the rest of my life,

I'll try to be a swan...

"One swan is deceiving us all
Oh I for one should know
I never felt myself so graceful
And I never swam so slow"

Camera Obscura - Swans

Sunday, October 25, 2009

♥ for isa and v ♥

and we're like the roses

stoned in the backyard

there is no misery

in the time we grew wild


why not look out the door

and know what it's there for

to leave or to come back

safe in the morning


safely, unwounded

roaming too late

suddenly, i find you

in the town we grew up wild

and we're like the roses

stoned in the backyard

there is no misery

in the time we grew wild

♥ Hope Sandoval ♥

in my head and in my heart

always the bright young things. the lovers and the dreamers. "through broken hearts and broken bones", even if time has flown, even if sometimes there are no words or loveletters. somebody to hold you and nudge you when you are sad, someone to water your garden when the rivers have run dry. always the flowers, the eternal quest for beauty and wonder, silly giggles every day, in my memories, always teacups and long lunches, sleepovers and trips around the world. red hair, honey hair and bad hair days, always the songs and the poems, the books and the vanity too. the movies and the tears, the phonecalls, the dramas and the dinners. the boyfriends and the lovers, the fucktards and the dreamboats. everyday, forevermore. the early 20's and the mid 20's, the parties in bedrooms, the dressing up and the breaking down, the drawings and tiny gifts, the birthdays, the blown candles, the nighttimes and the jealousy. The wonderful times we have shared, the companionship through the hard days in life, all the years together, the love. the beauty
in my heart, forever...

Sunday, October 11, 2009

the crystal palace

how do you live your days in a crystal palace? who has the strength to remove the spiderwebs when the day is done? who could possibly hide amongst such brightness? without thinking too much, living in a crystal palace is like living on the moon. the days go by covered in glittering dust and unexpected gleams of blinding light, when you look out the window, you can see swans and white flowers floating over a calmed stream of water. after all these years of shed tears over you i can see the place where i live again, this shelter of shine and living poetry. the floors are eternally white, the walls are covered in a soft orchid color, there are possibilities again, there is light in the place your shadow overtook. in spite of the immense sadness, my face holds the same candor of a tuberose, perfectly young and expressionless, for the first time in a very long while i feel like a sphinx searching for its own reflection in a frozen lake, it doesn’t mean i can’t feel a thing but that i do not know how to show it in its desperate depth. in my crystal palace there are plenty of things, some of them are terrible, some are precious. there are shields and masks, butterfly kings and opaque prisms, a lovely ruby colour for lips and songs to whisper in the dark. in my crystal palace there are entire rooms stained with memories of you, of the nights we lived together, of the countless caresses, the names you gave to me, the beauty you bestowed upon me and the promises you never kept.

all around this palace there’s an air scented with pure white flowers, for the first time in years, my air is not scented with you, for the first time in a very long while i can smell the scent of my own soul.

in this palace there is a place for the past that once was with you, but there is no place for you anymore. there is no place for the pain you bring, for the first time i am alone and there is nothing to fear.

every night, in this crystal palace i can listen to the beautiful song of the flower that never dies

these tiny things make up a life,
my life without you.

Thursday, October 1, 2009

these days

dreamy days of dreaming, of finding and losing beauty.

There has been sadness...every day little pools of sorrow are born in my heart, everyday is trying to save a heart from drowning, a soul from breaking into shimmering bits and cosmic dust. There has been princes (taking me to the moon and back, lulling me to sleep on flower beds). If there ever was love, is breathing within me, it outshines the brightest stars, it outblooms any other force. There has been days of mindless shopping (more black shiny mascara to turn eyes into little windows of emotion, pale pink glittery lipsticks named Cinema Pearl to make lips look perfectly angelical and dreamy. red red cherry red cardigans to be sheltered from the numbing cold, perfectly watery moisturizers to quench an ever so thirsty skin). There has been a few surprises, solace in silence, new girls to cherish, the wonderful ghost of Penelope Tree, the ghost of your body yet not having you here, not feeling you terribly close like I am used to (Oh heartbreak, won't you sing me a song?). There has been too much strawberry champagne with floating maraschino cherries, too much of listening to the same old songs ("Your dreary days, your damsel days, your water days are dying"). Too many days of hope and despair, too much avoiding people's stare behind oversized dark shades, too much cookie eating, guava jam with chocolate vanilla cake. As always, too much perfume, too much time carrying the weight of things that I will never solve but that will forever haunt me.

Even though life can be too much and too sad, I still believe it's worth living, it's worth waiting, surviving, falling in love, believing, even when every thing seems perfectly impossible, even when your heart is breaking.
Love makes it all wonderful,
love awaits

a yummy breakfast I had this past weekend

Sesame toasts with goat cheese and guava jam

peach yogurt with maraschino cherries

sparkling mimosa!
(champagne and orange juice)

peach tart
(can you tell I love peach?)