If I ever, ever enjoyed cold slate table tops or stark patterns (on the floor and/or the walls)- I simply don't anymore and have no idea how I ever did. They say the apple falls close to the tree but if you compared my taste in housing decor and fashion as of late to mother's, you'd say heck, she never fell out of the tree at all. She has completely converted me to a believer in the stylish perfection of the romantic shabby chic look. And it's much more than a style friends. It's a completely beautiful outlook on life and I will tell you why I'm so obsessed later. Gorgeously charming chandeliers. Drapes that scream "I am gentle and soft-love me." Beds and walls of earthy tones, dusty and blended calmly as if by an artist's finger. Wood soft and distressed- like myself most days. Withering away with a grace yet upholding warmly in the sunlight. Their birch-like shavings holding the remnants of last night's dreams. And teacups and flowers of course. Pearls and peonies drooping out of tea-cups, sitting on an aged vanity with a mirror-tray upon which to place a bottle of coco Chanel mademoiselle. With only one whiff, the world just seems better and your face opens its petals to the breeze coming in from a beachside balcony. Lilacs and hyacinths also hang somewhere in nasal space. They illuminate the scene, their scent making an entrance memorable, engraining it into your space for precious moments, like the first time you stepped into that little antique shop by the bay. Breathing out, you are taken in by the light that draws you inside a Parisian corner cafe. Such light hangs heavy on your eyes, pushing the lids down so that the enchantment does not swallow you hole. So that you may stay tender and in love. Your hands up on hers, upon the lace that hugs the table.

Allende

I wouldn't mind if some embodiment of myself resembled in the very least this woman. http://www.ted.com/talks/isabel_allende_tells_tales_of_passion.html Elizabeth Allende. Wow. phenomenal. Love her voice, her candor, her passion.

Ah...life.

There are several drafted posts I have meaning to edit and send out into the stratosphere...but I haven't. Maybe I will maybe I won't, but I'd much rather write and think optimistically, since that seems to be the real obstacle of it all. Truly, it's easy to complain and it feels good and don't get me wrong--haha...totally stealing that phrase from lady orchid--but anyway, complaints have their place. But now, at least for me, it's time to send those hard feelings down the river. I can never ever forget-mostly because I am a female. Sorry guys, we just don't ever forget anything. But I can certainly forgive and work towards greater understanding. The bitterness had been mostly to do with coming to terms with the fact that sometimes, you put your all your efforts into something or other people, and never get anything in return. Or even worse, you find that someone's capacity to give to you just simply runs out. That's honestly okay because it hurts, but it doesn't hurt forever. The only bad part, is that if enough let downs occur, you may become completely cynical. You come to a crossroads and begin asking yourself, "Why give at all?" Why do I care? Is this worth mending? I am not only speaking of certain friends. I am speeking of academic life, professors, doctors, people at the bank. As you grow older and simply have more shit to deal with, You soon learn that other people are equally caught up in their shit and are more often than not, unwilling to go the extra mile for anyone else. There is still hope though. You know why? Well for one, as the stream of positive and helpful resources begins to narrow, it becomes much easier to focus in on what really matters, and the people who are making the right impact on you right now. The other day I was in target. I was so completely out of it, probably caught up in these thoughts. There standing in line, an old friend walked up to me. I didn't even know it was him until he reached out to touch me. I normally spot a familiar face from miles away and react eagerly and happily. This time I didn't. It was so odd and unlike me. Me and this guy go back... he's a real good friend. He's hilarious and he listens. He may even know that I am speaking of him if he reads this. Pah...dear friend, I'm so sorry for not having reached out to grab you and smile in our chance meeting. That is what I should have done. You are rare and wonderful and I love seeing all the places you are going...watching your life as it unfolds. I guess what I'm trying to say is, I need to focus more on the good guys (and gals). The sounds, sights, and things that soothe me and add to me. The things that challenge me in productive ways. I've had a pretty high tolerance for b.s. throughout most of my existence. But again, as you realize that the people and things that are most worth having are so small and few, you just grab them with your hands and scooping them right out of the water, there isn't much room for anything else, and all the doesn't matter falls right through, and washes away down the stream. And that's okay. Its fine to let go of things. I am by no means saying that the past should be discarded. That's honestly impossible and pointless. You need the good and the bad of yesterday to figure out who you are today. Who knows, someone form the past may come back into your life, and things may resurface in an entirely new way. You should be open to that. I would hope that I can at least be open to so much. Who am I kidding, I know I am. While I do not forget how someone made me feel, especially if it was negative...I just as soon can be charmed by their goodness, again. As we move forward in our search for better things and good people, we should keep these things in mind I feel and find a sense of balance. We are becoming wiser and more knowlagable about the things that add to us, and we try to avoid those things that take a way. But hopefully, we don't get so caught up in running from ugliness and searching for truth that we loose faith all-together in that crazy world out there...because frankly, it's starting to scare the shit out of me. No, but in a good way. ;) love.

Mothers are Pinteresting

So 4 hours into studying neuro...I log into pinterest, initially in search of the most perfect mother's day breakfast idea. I have come up with a menu but before I say that let me say this. Sometimes you can search and search for what's truly inside of you and never get to the bottom of things. Like today, I was digging away like a maniac trying to un-earth what I thought to be the most humangeous rocks in the ground in order to make a space for my mother to plant her roses. And I failed. Then she 'tack,tacked-away' at the dirt, and with a few slight moves, the rocks seemed to slip right out. They turned out not to be boulders but mere pebbles in comparison to the difficulty I had imagined. I guess I am just full of faith lately...*rolls eyes.* Similarly, on evenings such as this, when deadlines are about the only thing on my mind, I sit away dreaming up of what life could be, or what it should be and at the end of the story...I'm still sitting in front of my neuroscience- and I've got nothing. Haven't learned a damn thing for I've been stuck on the same sentence for half and hour, nor have a made any breakthroughs in the meaning of my existence. It was at this point when I went searching for recipes. Clicking away I had now strayed far from the path and was onto beauty, jewelry, animals, words of wisdom, and finally, someone's link on "places to see before I die," and "If money was no object." There I came across this photo. Now, I don't know if it was the the water, the sunset, or the way I seemed to feel myself walking up the marble steps and into the light. Really, it's probably an average Caribbean destination photo to any other pair of eyes. But it just sucked me in for no particular reason. My spirit just walked into the scene in slow motion. Onto the ledge, body uncovered, yearning for the water before me. A lust for the horizon. And once everything got out of focus a little, I had a realization. It occurred to me, that the thing my spirit seems to cling to the most, is something that lies far beyond this life of mine. At least, it is something outside of my vivid imagination that carries me through the night as I sleep. Yes this was something apart from dreaming. Completely disconnected from those, "I want to be this, and I hope to do that," sensations. I want to say that my core felt this odd sense of relief in looking at this image, and possibly a slight yearning for salvation beyond life itself. I thought, here is a place I can go when all of this rush and fighting is over. I didn't hear a harmony of angels or see Jesus...I just felt this sensation of delight over being in a space of absolute quiet and purity. Somewhere to drown the lies and breathe in an un-polluted mist of free-flowing consciousness. And that is my ultimate dream really, I now realize. In this life and the next I guess. To surrender to those deeply-planted, yet-to-be discovered wishes and possibilities of my consciousness. To excavate those stones of my mind, as my mother did those rocks today. Perhaps they aren't hidden as deeply inside of me as I choose to believe. Tomorrow Menu: -Salmon, cream cheese and capers on a bagel -Broiled, brown sugar-topped grapefruit halve -Two eggs a top a tomato with seasoned herbs, baked to delight in a ramekin -A morning kiss, because she is the best -oh, and juice

What is your motto here?

 It is difficult sometimes to accept the goodness in our hearts, when our efforts seem to bare no fruit. But we musn't holdback that willingness to put our selves on the front lines, and risk our pride and being slandered for having been honest all the while. I listen to my horoscope, although I am ashamed to admit to partial belief- but I simply cannot ignore its accuracy, and today it said just this thing: In a perfect world the gifts you bring would be met with equal spirit, and your ecstatic flavor for life would not be ridiculed or taken for granted- but these hopes are not realistic, and this is something you must learn to live with. At once I feel understood and by hearing this fantasy I hear what I know to be true- you simply do what is right, and let it be, and laugh at the fools mocking you. Do I always get things right? Of course not. And I make some ridiculous mistakes along the way. But when I speak, I do so with sincerity, and for a lioness, astrologically, I surprisingly keep my pride at bay. I rhyme when I get passionate, forgive me- but lately I have been questioning humanity all together.Yes, as in "Oh the humanity!" That sort of way. As in, we musn't be truly humans at all, because animals treat each other far better. How can we live with putting each other down, when it sets us all back down the line anyhow? What is with this false sense of power that makes us so freakishly deaf to all the lessons we learned as children? Smile when someone smiles at you, and hold hands while crossing the street- all I see now are people pushing each other in them. It's times like these when I get so close to throwing it all right back in their faces. Tomorrow I shall refuse to help you my friend, you, who have no trouble managing just the same.

I will tell you why people do this. It is simply, path of least resistance. It is just too damn hard to look out for your brothers and sisters and maintain the sanctity of your soul. To look people in the eye, and listen without judgment and fear of giving away any kind of weakness. It's called self preservation, and I will be damned if I let it be my keeper. If it isn't in my best interest to share and live peacefully amongst others, then I may as well make an island of my body somewhere in the Pacific.


A monologue here, from Scent of Woman, describes my sentiments exactly ....
No, I'm Just Getting Warmed Up!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dH4p9BQ3V9o