Meme

I blatantly stole this idea. Thank you, Degan.

I wonder how different this will be in 2 days or 2 weeks? My favourites change so very frequently, nothing is ever permanent.



1. Study in Red - for Jules, 2. spa bento, 3. Stafford - Locks, 4. Just a Orchid, 5. Jensen Ackles as Aragorn, 6. Saintpaulia 'Champagne Pink', 7. The World at my sons feet, 8. mango cheesecake, 9. Grace Paley, 10. bad luck, 11. Love XOXO, 12. Lady Miss Kier


Here’s how you play:

Type your answer to each of the questions below into Flickr search, then using only the first page, choose an image. Copy and paste each of the URL’s into the mosaic maker over at FD’s image maker.

What is your first name?
What is your favorite food?
What high school did you attend?
What is your favorite color?
Who is your celebrity crush?
Favorite drink?
Dream vacation?
Favorite dessert?
What do you want to be when you grow up?
What do you love most in life?
One word to describe you.
Your Flickr name.

Transience

tran·si·ence (trnz-ns, zhns, -shns): The state or quality of being transient.

I realized the other day that I am approaching a milestone that I have not achieved in over 10 years. I will have resided in my little studio flat, with its white walls and hardwood floors, terrible burgundy blinds and its noises, its smells, its adventures, for 2 years this September. It is the longest I have lived anywhere for a very long time.

I never did paint the walls, or unpack all the boxes. But there are prints on the walls, bookcases stuffed full, clothes hanging in the closet. I have made love in this flat, cooked meals and laughed with friends in its cramped kitchen, consoled and counselled, changed jobs. Woken up with the sun streaming through the crooked blinds and been happy in this space, and stretched myself out on the sofa with heartbreak and whisky.

I have sometimes longed for the comfort of those white walls while I have been far away, but it has never been anything more than functional. A place to lay my head, to store my clothes, to escape. I realize how deep transience has taken hold, and I often wonder if I will ever feel just so, just right in one place or if I will always be searching for that next safe space? Or is it just as simple as finding comfort in your own heart?

Wondering

As we get older, manage different relationships, forge new friendships, break up and make up, do we hurt more or do we hurt less? Or with each new heartache do we simply hurt differently?

Sometimes when we fly, we fall

Some time today, in a crowded restaurant among strangers, I fell.

Sometimes we need to free fall in order to find ourselves back on the track we are supposed to. Sometimes our hearts need to be cracked so that we can put them back together. Sometimes when we find ourselves falling, all we need to do in order to break our fall is hold out our arms.

The trick is to know how to fall, so that we can never stop trying to fly.