All posts tagged: poetry

vision through the fog of absent mindedness

It starts with a fog. A sort of blur where you can just begin to see glimpses of light and dark. Those movements become soft silhouettes, shifting in the back of your mind – still just out of reach. It is what happens when we are out of the practice of being present. We see something, but it’s too out of focus to become a concept we can grasp.  We are too distracted; we are too overwhelmed. We try harder. Concentrating on the moving figures, trying to imagine what is behind our eyes – imagining what we want it to be. Creativity steps in. We begin to fill in the blanks. Making assumptions from the abstract shapes now taking form. They start to come to life. Figures dancing, wind blowing. We begin to feel that moment, placing ourselves in a realm all but forgotten.  The more we seek, the more we see. And the deeper we look, we discover layers and layers within and without. Until, at last the picture starts to become clear. Then, …

’tis the season, a tragic love story

It’s here. That cold that licks your bones and laughs as the deep chill spreads like liquid nitrogen through your veins. The warm glow from the holidays disappears like a candle being snuffed out, leaving nothing but darkness in its wake. And, though the earth’s orbit tells us daylight has just begun to extend itself once again – Us creatures of the sun know now begins the longest days of the year.  The frost has burned itself onto every surface, and the living seek refuge underground where a hint of earth’s warm heart can still be felt.  And now, there’s no escape. We are trapped here, with borders closed and restrictions barring us from warmer refuge. Where will we run to now? Home. They say home is where the heart is, but mine longs for rays of sun penetrating my icy cold flesh with heat rays of welcome embrace. I long for the sea and the sounds of birds and dancing trees.  The elements are unchanged. The air is still here, but the warm breeze …

life inspirations poetry

perspective of reality, emotions and fantasy | what is real life a day in our dreams

I believe that who we are exists somewhere between reality, emotions and fantasy. There are times our emotions tell us things our mind simply cannot. Who we love. How much pain we can bare. What makes us happy. Fantasy is the next level, and perhaps the most raw essence of self. It tells us who to trust. It gives us that gut feeling that we can neither create or ignore. It is a realm where our creativity and imagination are truly limitless, without the restraints of physics or science. People often dismiss the part of themselves driven by fantasy. But why? Why turn away from the only part of yourself in which you have complete control and direction. The place you can be anything you choose. They say it’s not real. It’s just a dream. But aren’t dreams what drive people to accomplish incredible things? Hasn’t every visionary and leader of every generation first started with nothing more than a dream. Believing only in reality is a trap. You’ll never grow past the things you …

inspiration of the season

seasons of the setting sun

How did we get here. We stood there in the breeze. That moment was right. Even if the road leading there wasn’t perfect. Even if tomorrow was not going to be ok. We stared into the distance. The silent mountains bathed in the clearest of spring lakes. The setting sun slowly painted and re-painted the horizon. Hues changed from the vivid lakes and trees of the day. Sunset transformed the earth to gold. Dusk settled in smokey pinks and blues. It was like watching the earth become reborn overnight. Everything old melted with the sun, only to be brought back to life more beautiful each time. Life has seasons. Some colorful and exciting. Some are crisp and clear, letting you see for miles. Some seasons are hazy and dark. Sometimes it feels like the sun may never rise again. Yet, that beautiful circle of light rises each day. Every day we are reminded we have something to be grateful for. Everyday is reborn, with a chance to start everything new.   We often can’t see …

travel blogger in a bikini on a boat

where the wind meets the waves

Two mighty forces meeting face to face where the waves break against the sky. The salty ocean spray leaps into the air, glinting in the sun, dancing in the light before crashing back down into the depths. They are swallowed once again there, only the surface left gleaming in the sun. Alone, the sea is a mighty force and knows no master. She tosses and turns playfully with the tides. She holds the power of balance, giving herself to be carried in the clouds of the sky to rain down on an earth desperate for life. She is home to beasts and beauty, holding countless mysteries impossible to discover. Her current sweeps away forgotten memories, restoring them with a new canvas every night tide across the sandy beaches. She challenges the earth itself. They meet in form of a cliff jutting from the depths to the sky. It’s breathtaking really. A precipice that stands as a wall between worlds. A rush consumes your soul and leaves you gulping in air if you dare stand on …

flying first class in fendi

flying first class in FENDI

The clouds swirl in motion from the movement of the plane. The light is bright white, like being covered in a new sheet.  There’s nothing quite like the rush of energy that comes from being 25,000 feet in the air. Running away from reality for the weekend. From the east side to Europe, the next 6 days will be spent wandering the streets of Milan for an afternoon – then shifting to Lugano for a week of design work in the studio under the Swiss mountains. The feeling is adrenalizing. I’ve spent a lot of time spinning dreams in my head as of late. Letting go of safety lines, the temptation to be truly free from restraints has been overpowering. First class, FENDI, sipping a Tito’s and OJ, overlooking the world mixed in a heavy fog below, it’s not hard to imagine. Safety has brought me where I sit here today. It’s been my constant. I made my safe bets and found a way to achieve a certain level of success in reaching my dreams …

travel blogger on minimalist beaches of costa rica

i am the sea

The sun had just begun its last descend. We had arrived there for a purpose, but that purpose was quickly lost. The golden sky-paint was kissing the stones and sea. The faint smell of rum and ocean beings came in waves with the breeze. The sound of reggae could be heard faintly playing on a beach far off. It was all too perfect to focus on anything but that. We had arrived to Costa Rica, on the sandy sunset beaches of Tamarindo. photography:JOSH WOLFE MUSIC | camera:CANNON 5D MARK III | silk dress c/o:GIGI MODA   Our hearts were stirred and as if we had became a part of this place. A sort of blissful drunkenness swept over. Not from the rum punch or local beer, but from the air itself. A feeling of light and movement consumed us. The sand was soft, and just cooling from the afternoon sun. The water had a crisp bite that ways playful and inviting in the warm air. A group of a dozen comrades joined us there. A …

white lace dress in romantic setting

the way you make me glow

Soft and subtle. Warm and safe. It’s not who you are; it’s the way you make me feel. A fire crackles behind me, a sound competing only with the rain dropping on the skylights above. Naizak sleeps just between myself and the back door, probably the coolest place she can find while keeping me within sight. The afternoon was spent with delightful guests over a light brunch and a few (dozen) bottles of champaign. It’s a comfortable feeling having spent the day surrounded by people you love, and ending in silence and time to reflect. photography:ME | camera:CANNON 5D MARK III | white lace dress c/o:ML Monique Lhuillier   There are some people you encounter that touch you differently, more deeply than others. The people that can, from a single glance, capture your thoughts, feelings and the deepest parts of your soul. They know. They see you. They don’t have to say anything, or even react. It’s an awareness. A different level of existence where you coincide on the same plain. They can speak to …

ugly duckling, a serenade to the season

so what if I’m not

A heavy fog weighs down on the mountaintops, yet the haze on the horizon is only half as concealing as the changes whirling in front of our eyes. Autumn has arrived, and the time has come for another serenade of the seasons. A fall night wind murmurs secrets of the season’s change, and we begin to seek comforts of a darker palette, a tighter hold, and whispers by a fire. Our deepest instincts urge us to be prepared, guarded and protected ourselves from the cold that is to come. We should be seeking comfort, but what if I’m not? Walls are often as dangerous as what they were built to protect, and the comforts of a fire can just as quickly burn you with a single touch of the flame. Life is unpredictable. And no matter how much we may focus on the preparation of safekeeping, the irony is that these measures make us no safer than we were before. Instead, they instill a false sense of security, create a crutch and make us shut …

fall fashion

this time last year

This time last year, I was a different person, but weren’t we all? Just like the unremitting flux of the seasons, we continue to shed our leaves and go through stages of dormancy, change and regrowth. Yet somehow, part of us always remains the same, the core of our being, who we are, always were, and will always be. This time last year, my hair was darker, complexion lighter, and my skin had fewer scars and freckles from life’s undertakings. But physical change is a part of nature, and no being is excluded from it’s irrevocable effects. It’s a blessing to have been given the opportunity and time that these signs of weathering were born from. This time last year, I had gone through fewer heartbreaks, hurts and struggles. But had not yet had the opportunity to learn from them, and grow stronger instead of harder. It’s important to embrace both the wonderful and seemingly inconvenient and regrettable junctures in life – which is the place we often learn the most. This time last year, …