I know I've had a day straight out of the wilderness because I'm laying in bed and I just picked out a small branch and a dried bug from my hair.

shoplimbs vintage

shoplimbs.com

shoplimbs.com

oh 7 days & i'll wake up somewhere else

And the great thing is, I don't care at all. Not one bit. It's rather funny actually. To the best of times, I say good-bye. Drawn out like a sketch; I erased the mess of it; the rest. Going somewhere to forget about everything, everyone and all that I know. Bare skin, mind empty, all my bills put on hold. This way, I'll never know what to "Lo and behold".

get a grip on the trees

Are you having a good summer?

(jardin du leo mol)

Cause I'm sure as hell not. Just kidding. It's been real swell, I just want to be up 34,000 FT+ in the air and then descend down down down to my new hometown; Paris, France. 

Au revoir, kanadian-kiddos (bonjour la terre du renoir) in the countdown of 12 days.

Writing about these two (no correlation mind you)  her & her.

Saw a legend last night. he's still got it.

I think I witnessed a few momma's and poppa's having acid flashbacks from the 1970's when he covered any Zeppelin.

Seeing Midnight in Paris tonight. Again.

lilac grove

(par carolyn-rebecca)

Dan les lilas, oh there did I go!

The perfectly swift ride through did not happen as planned

once, twice.

But on the third

I had it all to myself

Through the grove-of-trove, I did go

It was endless in delicacies

(aroma, branches cracking, a nymphy glow)

but not in actualities

For soon

I was out

Again;

on my own

celtis australis

Also know as the nettle tree.

A place that is full of obscurities, oddities, and all else that pertains to my soul; everything enlightening.

It’s important (and it has been said) to be fully in love with oneself prior to “giving yourself” or being in love. To feel the effect in the most immense of measured amounts, I will agree that as a true observation.

First and foremost, I do love myself. But it’s premature. Still growing to it’s full form. A bulb that wants to be pedals and in full flora-fleur bloom.

On Sundays, I feel unstable. Often in a bit of a blur from the weekend. Which is traditionally the time when one “has fun”, or takes time off/ relaxes. Oh, oh oh this is never the case! 

And on Mondays, I usually feel like a wreck. Frantic, moody, and making irrevocably irrational statements or claims. Dear god, I loathe Mondays.

But these days aside, I think I’m in love. With him. The softest and smallest gestures always mean the most. The accidents that happen are always the most exciting, and the best to laugh about. The most inspirational, making for the best stories to tell, to gush about.

Like on my birthday when I started choking on the chocolate you gave me because I was too excited to be next to you (and about the fantastic film we saw). So I engulfed too much; with extreme distaste (oh rudeness) and haste. My cheeks full like a cherub squirrel, I began to wheeze and cough. I managed to squeak out “pull over”, and so we did. I began to feel nauseous, overwhelmed and out of breath. I bent over to get sick, and you came to comfort me. Just as you were about to pat my back, you screamed and I stood upright; alert. You slapped your knee and emitted a final yelp. Your pants had caught fire from a cigarette and you hadn’t noticed the burning. A burning hole right through your pants. I began to sweet talk to you. Cooing, assuring your safety, if you were burned etc. 

In this absurd oddity that was five minutes in time, something made me closer to you. 

Or when I awake in the dead of the night, shivering. I look over at you (the moon illuminating your shape), and see you have the entire blanket piled up on your torso. Piled! It looked like a flower. In full bloom; just like the one I want to be.

I've got a lot to do, but I'm so lazy in the afternoons.

vancouver

taken with the tiniest, most archaic digital camera. circa 2003

(front of my house, side gate, moi, teeny savings pig, big pig)

“Most of the dandelions had changed from suns, to moons.”

-Nabokov

bon fête avoir.

mon amis sont très belle.

(moi, zoe, kk)

june 15

June has been nothing but lovely. Little work, all play. Reading, dining out (perhaps a tiny bit to much), and lots of festive events. Some yet to come (like tonight's). This one was trop amusant. 

oh what a day!

Yesterday was my twenty-second birthday. I woke up early, stressed out. I despise making plans, and the usual thing I do to celebrate is head to the beach. But it was pouring on and off throughout the day, so that wasn't going to happen. Instead, I had a lovely day with my friends.

I went for breakfast, had mimosas. Then we went to my house for around 2 and had wine, wine, and more wine. I got lots of cute presents. Like mini moleskins, a beige knit shirt, nail polish, & a cactus. Books, owl collectables. Lovely things!

Then, Nick took me out to see "Midnight In Paris". Which I have to say is the best Woody Allen movie I've seen. I love Manhattan (which is reminiscent of Lolita). As well as Hannah and Her Sisters. And obviously Annie Hall, and a Midsummer Night's Sex Comedy. But during MIP, I was smiling, laughing or beyond intrigued and inspired. Owen Wilson is the perfect sub for Woody Allen acting in his own films. Perfect. 

Tomorrow I'm having all my family over for a back yard BBQ. There is a small tent decorated with flowers and lights that's set up. I can't wait.

one week hiatus

A lot can be done in a week, or nothing at all. Recovering from a flu, while planning my Eurotrip results in a very sleepy femme. By planning, I don't mean time table/ routes for everywhere and everything. That's boring. I'd rather get lost. But looking into places I want to go, reading about other travelers. Finding some places to stay. 

Tomorrow I turn twenty-two. I've gone into this sort of dull, dry "what i've done today" mode of blogging. I simply am exhausted.  All my creativity goes here. And free time is wasted here.

There is no filter. Every experience that I have goes into it. Conversations, visions, people I meet, little tiny details I see (everywhere). Life in it's entirety is the influence, a novel is but a reflection of a stage or period of time passing by.

sometime soon!

"It was pleasant to wake up in Florence, to open the eyes upon a bright bare room, with a floor of red tiles which look clean though they are not; with a painted ceiling whereon pink griffins and blue amorini sport in a forest of yellow violins and bassoons. It was pleasant, too, to fling wide the windows, pinching the fingers in unfamiliar fastenings, to lean out into sunshine with beautiful hills and trees and marble churches opposite, and close below, the Arno, gurgling against the embankment of the road... Over such trivialities as these many a valuable hour may slip away, and the traveller who has gone to Italy to study the tactile values of Giotto, or the corruption of the Papacy, may return remembering nothing but the blue sky and the men and women who live under 

it."

-E.M Forster, A Room With A View
(from Capture the Castle)






Oh so full in it's meaning! It brought me to tears, and damn near broke my heart. Especially the end.

I love to write,  but I think I like hiding better. I'm going to build a fortress, and surround myself with friends, family, literature, pretty dresses, and work as much as I can before I go my little trip.

This is the end, for now..

300

Today marks 300 posts on this blog. And such a large majority have been in this calender year. Almost half! I vowed to write more, and so I have been. In many ways. 

While enjoying the beginning of summer, I've been very busy. Not in a tied down "I won't answer your calls" type-way. But in a plotting way. Plotting takes up a lot of energy, I'd say. Much has to do with my trip to Europe, which was delayed a couple months but is still taking place. I leave one month today. I will fly into Paris and everything else- is history. Also, my fall school schedule, life schedule, etc. Merde.

Perfect summer things I've been up to: bike rides, exploring nature with you, girls night at the cabin, red wine, white wine, laaaaate night, farewells x2, book shopping, making iced tea, writing, & napping in the sun..

I'm really only doing all this to keep calm and occupied, biding my time and keeping my wallet thick as can be.

I have a girlfriend, and she is my novel in progress. She's never satiated, always wanting more, and never getting just the riiiight amount of attention. But, I love her.

seine scene

Found a little place to stay, close to La Seine. How perfect will life be, when this painting becomes a reality.

24 hours in victoria beach.

I. Torrential hail/ rain storm that potentially fried my car. The speedometer is stuck at 100km per hour, and the gas tank at 1/4. II.  Miss Alex, the cabin host. III.  Bri falling, getting up, and again. IV. "Scissoring" or spidering. Whichever term feels right. V-VII. Me, Oli, Kathy.

6 bags of chips, a couple of trays of nachos, veggie burgers and a lot of wine later, I'm home. And tired. And I caught a little flu. Resting up for a day or so.