RSS Feed

Tag Archives: memories

The bonfire. A glimpse into my working space


There still is a lot more work to be done on this one but I wanted to keep you updated with the stages it’s going through.
Here, I am using extra strong gel medium to even out the texture and “nooks and crannies” of each flame which is a work of patience that I’ll have to take in my stride especially after just recovering from the flue. This is the last project of my bonfire collection.

You can check the first ones in this blog by typing in the search sidebar Bonfire and scrolling down to check the four…

Please excuse any mistakes in this post as it is the first time I am not using my laptop to do it.

It’s a great relief to have worked out how to be able to post from anywhere.

Any suggestions or tips would be welcomed and truly helpful ☺

For orders please contact life_paintings@hotmail.com
#painting #modernart #life_paintings #gelmedium #galleries #fantasy #workplace #flue #space #contemporary #TFLers #painter #abstract #onlineorders #acrylicart #artprojects #artvideo #onlineorder #studio #flame #structure #bonfire #patience #workspace

My pen & paper… my Aeneas


©copyright2014owpp

©copyright2014owpp

After a long absence I take you between my thumb & index
Hoping to continue an interrupted alliance.
In doubtful moments you call, I long…

Words, shapes, phrases, impressions, perceptions, all dance
To my attention but life hollers, its pulse goes on beating,
Its stream resumes its course then, I forget…

I adapt… Until your next signal.

I remember the bond, the relief, sincerity & trust…
Treating you as a living might be ridiculed, to me you are
Most alive, available around the world,

Pristine & unwrinkled you absorb my unpublished, my Arcanum. (1)
Your condition, that I come along provided with ink & scratch
The cavities of my brain.

I will always be thirsty for more so, after a long or short lapse
Count me among your unwavering, your fidus Achates. (2)
My pen & paper, my Aeneas. (3)

P.S This poem was written far back in 1991 then I adjusted it in 2013 & today I readjusted it again!
hope you’ll like it 🙂

(1) Arcanum

A deep secret, a mystery

(2) Fidus Achates

A faithful friend or companion

(3) Aeneas

n. Greek & Roman Mythology
The Trojan hero of Virgil’s epic poem, the Aeneid, and son of Anchises and Aphrodite. He escaped the sack of Troy and wandered for seven years before settling in Italy.

Unusually striped jelly fish!


Unusual jelly fish ©copyright2013owpp

Unusual jelly fish
©copyright2013owpp

We were strolling peacefully
Along the beach, wind blowing
Sun hibernating… When this
Jelly Fish caught our attention.
We swiftly “stole” the moment
Into our pocket of treasures,
Locking it safely in our prized
Collection…

Of family history.

The regular... ©copyright2013owpp

The regular…
©copyright2013owpp

Unabridged- 1987 adjusted January 2013


unabridged ©copyright2013owpp

unabridged
©copyright2013owpp

Unabridged
—————-

A present
A memory
Tears, laughter
So much

So little
You say.
So strong
The fear

Of abandonment
Yours, my own
Emotions
Taking us

To a point
Of no return
Of ridicule
Contempt

So, I write.
My quill
My intermediate,
Unveils

My pride.
Makes you
Listen without
Causing a

Flurry
I have your
Warrant
To what appears

A pink cloud
Protraction of
Our affinity
Staging a few

More moments
Of grace
A pause in
The vastness

Of cosmos.
A confidant
Accomplice
Comate

All the facets
Of what we had
Obverse yet,

Unabridged.

Shadows of the anterior 1989- Adjusted January 2013


Celerina2004 ©copyright2013owpp

Celerina2004
©copyright2013owpp

Shadows of the anterior
————————-

Born twice
From the womb.
And the confines
Of his dwelling.

He had to
Learn again.
First steps
First breath,

Look listen,
Copy and learn.
Grow up with
The hindrance

Of being already…
Molded into…
The obverse.
Memory with

No litheness
Candor
Admitting
Ignorance.

Inevitable
Decadence.
No mercy.
He lacerates

His mind.
Longing
Yearning
To be there

Heretofore.
Tension
Inhabiting
Every fiber.

Going back
His dread.
Incur his
Days of yore.

Spreading.
Heavy as a
Millstone
Clinging to his

Vital
Dragging it,
Losing it
Hounding him

At a corner
When least
Expected.
Routine

Impregnated.
Slapping his
Senses cold.
Shadows

Of the anterior
In the lines
Of a memory.
Landscape,

School staff
A cockroach!
Awakening,
Stunned

And floored.
Afflicting
His mind
His soul.

Till the cusp
Of his days.
Hoping to descry
Hear beyond

The senses.
Discern, feel
As a sculptor
Or a dancer.

Juggle with
Words in
A brushstroke.
With the ease

And grace
Of the loved.
A creator
Innovator.

Exhilarating,
Enliven over
His masterpiece.
The preciseness,

Veracity of
Thoughts
Translated
Into deity.

He goes on
Trusting,
Living the
Dream.

Yet, tiptoeing
Into his new
Territory.
The confines

Of his authenticity.

Families… April 2010


©copyright2013owpp

©copyright2013owpp

Families…
———

Families are intricate unities that assemble fragments of love, which they could easily discard if ego steps in.
Usually in a situation fabricated by their own imagination.
Families weave their own history, gluing it together with the substance called love hoping it will withstand the hazards of time.
Some families withhold the pressures of life by staying even closer. Practicing compassion, tolerance and love as a shining example for the world to witness.
Interacting with noble qualities as, finesse, integrity, virtue, righteousness, purity and above all a desire for true cohabitation.
They let their ego aside, seek and invite truth in, practicing patience and understanding in situations, others would have long buckled under.

Bursting as an olive seed, under the weight of a millstone. Grinding to its last drop.
How many of these “torches” illuminate our planet?
I wonder. Are they one percent? If they are, they should be standing high and proud. As the lighter of an Olympic flame.
Given a medal.
Instead, they are kept in the quiet. They tiptoe in the labyrinths of life and succeed to find a way out of this maze and convert it to beautiful alleys.
Some of them, growing an orchard on their way, with the promises of sweetness as a perquisite for having played a role in the grandeur of a king’s quarters.
Their children’s devotion, are their pride and badges. They take no heed in titles or honors.
They cherish the warmth of past memories and amuse themselves at keeping them alive by recalling them to their grandchildren, on long winter nights, a twinkle in their eyes, a spark in their heart and a smile on their lips.
Then, go on, feeding, on their children’s silent recognition, translated by small tokens. A gesture, a look, a hug and most of all, loving respect.
Are we aware of the importance of our each and every move?
As situations reveal themselves before our eyes, we are given a mind and heart to consult. The gift of introspection.
Do we use them wisely?
We have the freedom and dignity of choice. We could make an everlasting impression for generations to come. Leave our “trade mark“.
Is that not worth its weight in gold? Should it not give us a rush to strive toward that goal?
We could give up our self-made miseries and feed the younger generation with tender care.

Behave with consistency and rationality in order to provide them with the much needed security and balance in their lives so, as to prepare them on THEIR journey and pack their suitcases for the long road, with, stability, strength and joy. All vital tools in their jobs to shape a few generations to come.

And so it goes…

Building a non-ending chain of character, beauty and light.
In the hope, it will brighten the world and eradicate any dark shades left by the person…

Who thought he had no choice.

Memories of a comfy corner from our past 2012 ( ” Our ” Nature Shop )


OUR nature shop ;)

OUR nature shop 😉

Hi!
I hope you will enjoy this essay written in a spur of nostalgia.

” OUR ” Nature shop
——————-

What was it I felt when I first stepped in, what we call today, OUR Nature shop?
Was I simply intrigued, was it fascination or plain gravitation?

I try to recapture the impressions.
The fragrances, the light, those solid wooden shelves that delivered a cozy atmosphere, the people that came in and brought peace with them or their quest for it…
Was it the staff that went about doing their jobs with a sense of purpose and dedication and took as much time
as was needed to help and guide us?
All those components probably contributed to the something-special-in-the-air.

All I know is, I entered, the door closed behind me and the world slowed down to almost a stand-still.
Noise, stress and the ( human ) rat-race, did not belong in this new dimension.

The shop was small, long and narrow.

Containing the unwonted products ever imagined.
The till was at the entrance on the right side. Straight on, I took a trolley that made such a racket on the brown
bumpy tiles, my head just slid into my collar as to avoid the glares. ( that never materialized )

The first thing that caught my eyes, on the left, was a wide range of seaweeds, which to be honest, I thought I’d never dare introduce to my family.
To anyone you would ask, seaweed is a algae found on the beach in a entangled heap with a load of sand on, and to me too.

I had a whole lot to learn!

The names on the labels were very strange to me. Among those seaweeds lay, many hidden treasures. Tiny dark, pink, dried balls of Umeboshi plums, different pickled vegetables, one of them called, Daikon, small packets of pure Agar-Agar for jelly treats.

As I went on, I located a long refrigerated-bakery-display, with a wide range of ready foods exposed to the pleasure of the shopper’s searchfull eyes. Salads, spreads, tofu, pastries, pies… Anything to whet one’s appetite and still have a clear conscience accompanying it.

Fresh-bread-in-old-fashioned-kitchen

On the wall above, were small shelves with a whole variety of natural bread loaves and on top, a row of tin boxes with among others, grey
and white Kudzu. I know Kudzu is not very popular in some countries but to me, it’s currently the only way I can start my day.
I find it to be a very soothing drink.

Behind my back is stacked, with what might seem boring packets of rice cakes, but here, they were offered, as salted, sweet, plain, with
seaweeds or sesames. Even cans and jars of organic corn and tomato puree looked appealing in this decor!

A few steps forwards and I had arrived at the end of the shop. In a corner stood a bucket with a brown and black spotted root soaking in
water. It was fresh Lotus root. A delicacy in our home at present (cooked, grated, fried or baked)

Along the wall was a fridge with a stock of Miso, Natto, Tofu, Tempeh…

Today, tofu is the only name that has practically traveled around the world, but back then, I had never heard about it.
Being so focused and spellbound, I had lost track of time and my first encounter with it lasted one hour and a half!

And so, it went on…
Natural cola, rice syrup, nut spreads, natural soaps and shampoos… I stood there, mesmerized and breathless as a runner after his first
marathon.

Natural-homemade-soap-bars-with-wheat-spikelets-shallow-dof-super-macro

Wait… Natural soaps?!

That was a concept totally alien to me. I wondered. Why on earth, would people consider paying double or triple the amount for something
that does not even enter the body?

Well, twenty years later, having been introduced ( the time of a holiday’s T.V show ) to the how-to-do home made natural remedies, cosmetics,
soaps and shampoos, and ” soaking ” myself in the experiment for a year and a half, I understood the importance and benefits of it all.

Browsing through those shelves, was a beautiful journey to the exploration of something new and refreshing. I was open and welcomed the change
in my life. This was something I could do for myself and my family to ensure a better future than the ones of the prognostics or, at least try.

A sense of joy and purpose filled my being as I went to the opposite side of the shop, heading for the cashier and inevitably arrived at my favorite spot. Rows of books neatly stacked, just for the pleasure of the avid eyes and the indulgence of the impatient…
I went from one title to the next, until I decided on a few, that will capture my attention, the time of brief delectation, where I could sink into
the realm of discovery and knowledge.

I opened one at random, to see if the words grasped my attention. The smell of ink and paper floated toward me as I leafed through the crisp, unruffled
pages. I pulled myself away, with the promise of treating myself as soon as the opportunity arises.

I had nearly arrived at ” destination “.
I was eager to go back home with my prized possessions.

A last glance at a whole paraphernalia of essences, natural stones, statues… A reminder of where we were.
I waited in line, hoping, I had not worn out the staff with my interminable list of questions. Was it relief I saw on their faces? It could very well be, but I hoped not. I nevertheless was very grateful for that memorable introduction to the natural world.

Closed shop

Thus, started, a fifteen to twenty years long familiarity with ” THE nature shop ” our kids considered, part of their childhood and part of their family history. Believing it would faithfully stand by their side throughout time.
Hence, their shock ( and ours! ) when the owners decided to close down.

As the days came to an end, clients practically felt the need to present their ” condolences ” seemingly bringing more comfort and consolation to themselves than to the owners!
To the loss of what one called a ” cathedral “.

How would we reorient our lives after this chapter, was a mystery.

We felt as the needles of a compass gone haywire.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Some years have gone by and as I was busy with some mundane task, my mind wandered back to those aisles of warmth, freshness and sympathy, to what brought
flavor to life by its uniqueness and realized, we had never found a replacement for ” our ” shop.

But forever in our hearts, will be engraved the fond memories of this comfy corner from our past.

Comfy place

Our hamster’s burial 2011


White hamster

Our hamster’s burial
———————-

It was a crispy, sunny, Sunday afternoon in nineteen ninety three.

Our whole family was united under the same roof of our old car in solemn solidarity, clinging unto a battered shoe box where our hamster lay peacefully among the outdated newspapers we had provided as temporary
comfort.

Not that it made much difference to our poor deceased creature, who surely had already joined his other soul mates in hamster paradise.

But it was more for our solace than his.

We drove endlessly in search of an isolated spot, that would allow us to dig a hole for our albino pet that had taken a special place in our heart.

Living in a busy town did not make things easier. We roamed around aimlessly, trying to detect that precious empty spot.
There! Shouted our oldest, followed by an echo coming from the rest of us, where? Where?!

The answer came swiftly, On your right, can’t you see?

We darted in a single movement, to the right, our eyes lighting up at the prospect of a discovery, and, yes! It was there!…

Was this going to be the final resting place for our pet? We wondered.

We stopped, got out of the car, our children trooping out, straight and sedate as little brave soldiers.

We studied the grounds as experts would, weighing the pros and cons and finally decided against.

We were staring at a manicured lawn. A public one and therefore, liable to a fine. Besides, even without a fine, we would have never had the heart to spoil such a well tended landscape.

So, off we went, in search of wilder pastures.

After a back and forth animated verbal exchange, we deliberated our verdict. We were going out of the city to find a peaceful spot in untouched nature.
Everyone agreed it was the best solution and peace settled among our tribe.

The further we went, the more subdued we all were. We had to face the inevitable.
Tranquility descended upon the small tight space of our vehicle.

———————————–

The day had begun to fall. The sun was hiding behind dark heavy clouds and a blanket of mist hovered on top of the fields in a protective embrace.

We stood perfectly still, as if mesmerized.
This was, thee acme.

Digging a hole

In a cowardly gesture, I inquired if anyone fancied digging a whole. It must have sounded far too brutal to their young and innocent ears because, my question collided with implacable deafening silence.
So we all went, together into action ( Mainly me! ) implicating ourselves into the mission we had endeavored to do.

It was quickly over and we drove back feeling gratified for having accomplished what we had set our mind and heart to.

How is it possible, I thought, to have gotten so fond of this little creature, when I used to be terrified of any four legged living form?
I ended up being the one helping him in his last gasps of breath…
A person, I mused, is full of surprises.

After a moment, the car slowly filled with the familiar ” music ” of sibling rivalry and I smiled at the pleasant continuation of life’s trivialities.

All was in its right place.

A journey in the past, present and future 2009


©copyright2013owpp

©copyright2013owpp

A journey in the past, present and future
—————————————-

As I sit on the bench of a cold and sunny December morning, In my Chiropractor’s small village, known for its preserved nature-spot, I absorb the peace and calm that descends upon me.
I chose this bench for its full view on the square. The vividly green grass contrasts with the brown and red bricks of the small houses surrounding it.
A pavilion right in front of me, completes the scenery.

The sky is unusually blue for this time of the year. Birds are chirping and passing from one bare tree to another.
The wind softly ruffles the pages of my notebook as my hair blows into my eyes simultaneously, blurring for a second, this picture of perfection.
The air is sharp and invites you to take a brisk walk. At a distance a couple is walking their dog, head bent, sharing some anecdote. The world seems to have slowed down. I’m back to my childhood, in England.

At my grandma’s home.

Mind, body and soul, fly back to the distant, yet vivid, coziness of her kitchen, her love, the clock ticking on the mantelpiece, it’s rhythmic sound, soothing, lulling me, into a peaceful daydream.
The smell of wood and grass after a rainy day. Her small cellar door intriguing us, daring us, to have it opened and climb down the narrow staircase in anticipation of the mysterious, the unknown.
Older men throwing, on a warm summer day, their black,glistening, heavy bowls on the cool grass of the park opposite.

A car passes and I find myself back on the bench. The same couple passes with their dog again.
I find myself sucked up in a vortex. Pulled back and forth between my childhood and this peaceful moment.
I can smell the bark of the trees after a storm. I find a narrow staircase spiraling down. Time, places and houses mingling haphazardly in a flow, of mind-flashes dancing an elf dance. Convincing, teasing,inviting me into a world of make beliefs.

Where am I?

Two enchanting places, where warm memories inhabit my heart with lovingly entangled roots, chaining me, to the beauty of experience, to the wonder of memory.
The young and the older, wiser, merging together in beautiful synchronized choreography. In a flow of light, travelling into the space of time. Leaving sparks on its way, as a guide to the lost, the seeking, the hurting. Inviting them to the wonder of miracle, of hope, of change, of rebirth, to the creation of choices. To the novelty and first steps into happiness.
A mind trail. A magnet. Bursting forth and growing so fast, darkness disappears on its passage, leaving place to color, serenity, awareness of a world growing, changing,moving toward diversity and uniqueness, acceptance and forgiveness.
Forgiveness of a past, fading into the distant horizons.

– – – – – – –

The dog barks and I’m thrown back to the place where time stands still.
Nothing has changed.
My hands are still clutching the notebook. But my mind has landed in a confused, muddled heap, as a ball of wool mishandled by the claws of an eager and energetic kitten.
Slowly, my heart comes to rest after a frantic pace and I imbue the quality and stillness of this small, yet very big place.
I hear my name being called and I realize it’s time for my chiropractor’s appointment.

©copyright2013owpp

©copyright2013owpp

As I get up and walk to the door, I enter the distant past and profound serene moment catching on the side of a wooden table, the glistening of two black heavy bowls, nearly smiling at me. Winking at me, creating a rainbow of all the precious moments of my life and offering me the gift of two places,

I can call HOME.

An interlude 2010 ( A special encounter with nature’s perfection )


This was a very special encounter with nature’s perfection, which I called…

Dark & crimson... ©copyright2013owpp

Dark & crimson…
©copyright2013owpp

An interlude
————

It is consumed and depleted that I take my car and drive the highway to reach the most exquisite ” nature spot “.

I avow. It’s not what you have in mind, when I call it by that name, but to me, it’s been the paradise I seek, when my body and soul need some healing. When it’s battered and drained from a festivity, a birth or just plain life.

It’s been twenty five years, I’ve been cradled, cushioned and protected by it’s relaxed surroundings.

I take the first exit. It slows my pace and introduces me to the quality, the heartbeat of earth. It is, by now, a ritual.The roads become narrower, cows graze the fields on either sides, houses get smaller…
I ride at my leisure passing a huge forest, the road darkening under the shadow of the tall, strong and sturdy trees. A minutes rest for my eyes against the glare of daylight and I’ve arrived at my destination.

I am greeted by a big splash of, light and dark grey ( the clouds! ) surrounded by different tones of green but, for the exception of a short straight line of dark crimson in the distance.
The lake is still. As in wait.Dark clouds loom low. Thunder rumbles in the distances.

We are, Sunday the ninth of May two thousand and ten.

The weather is perfect for me. I know I’ll have the park all to myself. People shy away from rain, whereas sunshine, makes me look for more isolated spaces. Armed with my umbrella, I take a purposeful stride and go on my usual itinerary. Which is,walking around the lake, starting on the right side.

©copyright2013owpp

©copyright2013owpp

Calmness, descends upon my soul, and joy fills up to the brim. I take a deep breath and glance appreciatively at the willow trees, bowing down gracefully to natures caprice.
The surroundings invite me to loosen every nerve and muscle in my body. Tensions gradually dissipates.
I go on and find, a high and wide bush of dark pink Rhododendrons in full bloom, wishing I was a skillful painter to capture on a canvas those vivid colors. But instead, I ” fish ” out of my pocket a digital camera and seize natures imprints.

Every corner of this park is embedded with memories. Some very old and some fairly recent. Just a few feet away, I see myself twenty years ago on my due date, resting on the grass, dozing off, anticipation buried deep, in the upcoming birth of our son. Further on, I climb up, a trickle of a path and find myself perched on a man-made ridge and admire the full view of the lake and forest, remembering summer days when the weather is warm and the park “buzzed” with people as bees in a hive, and enjoying this setting being as remote as one could wish for. The ones staying long enough were those looking for what I’d come for and respected the veil of peace protecting it.

I could nearly call it my own.

I absorb this special moment of tranquility and go rushing down the other side of the slope, welcomed by the scents of, Pine trees, shrubs of Yew, Laurel, Thuja, Spruce and berberry in bloom dangling as orange bells or tear drops. Every color blending, one in another. Apple green to yellow, vivid and dark green…A small bush of white Rhododendrons lying low at the back, surprises the wondering gaze.
My eyes skip from one to the other, afraid of missing out a tint. A hue.

I feel like a child in a sweet shop. Wanting to take everything in sight, stuff it in my pockets or, treasure it in the folds of a precious well used book. But again, what I do is fill my digital, feed my ” chip ” with every shape imaginable, a delicate nerve on a leaf, a tone, a glow, a bark, and if it were possible, the passion felt for so much splendor, trapped within the chambers of my heart, now released and free to take whichever path it chooses.

I saunter along, feeling blessed as I see the dark clouds, gaping and letting escape from it’s grip, a strong beam of sunlight, flooding at my feet. I close my eyes in delight at the unexpected warmth crossing my eyelids, my face. This game of hide and seek, keeps recurring throughout the day.

Knowing this place as the palm of my hand, I realize, it’s the first time, I’ve ever seen it through this angle.
Every season has it’s moment. It comes, goes. We capture it and are the sole witnesses of this living magnificence.
The breathing pattern of nature is diverse. Dependable on many factors. One of them, man’s respect towards it.

©copyright2013owpp

©copyright2013owpp

As I walk on, I gaze at a big, sturdy red beech tree, the rusty tinge on it’s leaves catch the light, branches hang protectively over two wooden tables and benches, for people to find shade and enjoy a picnic between friends or family. I observe the narrow path, leading to the forest, not daring to venture, just in case I might miss out on something more exiting. The lake maybe, and its reflection, the ducks swimming, indifferent to life’s constant changes, the breeze ruffling the landscape, the rare passer-by, nodding in acknowledgement…

So, I go back to the paved foot-way and go on my designed route.
As I amble, a stream of trees pass-by my eyes as in a parade. Straight, tall and ready to the order. Birch trees with it’s characteristic white bark, Oak and Beech trees, Hornbeam and plane trees… I feel happy and dizzy. I have no doubt. Nature is where we belong.

©copyright2013owpp

©copyright2013owpp

A little bit further is the football terrain and Lilac ” laces ” daintily the contour. A few meters on, a Holly bush, gives a Christmas touch even though months have long gone by. An Elder plant, Viburnum and Cornus all present, a wilder aspect of nature. They’re rough looking shrubs. Whereas the pink blooming of Weigelia, is a palette of sophistication and delicacy. Every step taken, is the discovery of yet, another marvel. There is never a moment of boredom. It’s a sheer delight to the contemplator.

I finally find ” our ” ghost tree which is a weeping Nootkacypress, looking like a pine tree with needles literally ” dripping ” to the ground in a haunted way. It has it’s place of honor. Right in the middle of the mini-golf. A popular national pass-time.

Being here feels like being part of a big painting project. Which unravels along the path, bit by bit, piece by piece of composed beauty, which I collect and stick together at the end, when I go back to reality. Being given the opportunity and privilege to create my (inner) masterpiece. The one I’ll pull out from my secret draw and indulge into, for a fleeting moment.

©copyright2013

©copyright2013

I shake myself from my reverie and cross the narrow railway designed for the small steam train, ( taking children who tire easily on the way ) and recognize bamboo on the corner and Wisteria climbing up a shack.
The air is fresh and crisp. Nature unfolds itself to me. Ribes, Horse chestnut, False Holly… My lungs take in a maximum of pure oxygen then, on my right, I step unto the magical and airy sight of a field of Dandelions ready to blow away by it’s first gust of wind.

I notice on my left, a young lonesome, fragile Cherry tree, bending under the pressures of the elements. Further, a carpet of daisies greet me as the confirmation to a harsh winters closure.
I finally pass those red Beech trees with it’s crimson leaves I had noticed at the entrance and became aware of a dream coming to it’s end. I was lucky to have come at a very special time of the year. The moment, nature opens up his palette to the few and the privileged.

©copyright2013owpp

©copyright2013owpp

I give one last glance, before tearing myself away from a scenery I felt complete with the time, of what seemed, like the trajectory of a shooting star, promising myself to replenish my soul whenever I feel the need, and not wait for my mind and body to scream in desperation.
I find, gladly, the warmth and coziness of my car and drive back to my loved ones, a new person. Refreshed, vibrant and energized. Ready to embrace life in all it’s facets.

Yet… In wait for the next, interlude.