Influences (or Why I Write the Way I Do)

Natalie Goldberg (free-flowing writing)
Clarissa Pinkola Estes (wild woman writing)
Jane Hutchison (direct-to-the-point writing)
Ernest Hemingway (simple words writing)

Sunday, January 31, 2010


when i don't have time to think
between clothes to fold
a face to wash
and my love waiting
on top of down under
i just write whatever
and this is whatever
i am in love
i am happy
i am simply being

Saturday, January 30, 2010


stephii, jom and i took elaine to the airport today at around 5am. it's elaine's time to go back to the philippines. en route, the mood was not at all that heavy, up to the time that we had warm drinks at dome. but it was inevitable. the saying goodbye. jom said, she was not good at it. and taking people to airports have always upset her to the point that she would always lose her way driving to naia. stephii literally poured her heart out. elaine being her housemate for about 5 years, and they were very close. i was more 'practical' as for me, i would definitely see elaine again so no time for tears. but i would find myself comforting stephii. telling her that she would definitely see elaine again.

on the way back, i realize how airports could signify not only the mundane but also meaningful dimensions in human relationships. it is not only the place where people come and go but also where people come and go in each other lives. in the movie, 'love actually', the narrator played by hugh grant, pointed out how the arrivals in airports show how love exists and continues to persist in these times of war, economic crises, and human misery. love not only between lovers, but also of mothers and daughters, fathers and sons, relatives, mates, those connected by human bonds. but then as typified by the crying moments with elaine's departure, airports also signify the leaving part, especially the breaking of bonds in the physical and the testing of bonds to go beyond that, transcend even time and space. and i know, as elaine's plane touched down to manila today, the same renewal of bonds continue as there waiting for her is her beloved angel, her parents in laguna, her sibs, and expecting friends. and on that side, she is being embraced by warm loving hands, accepted in community, in belonging. so airports could represent the extreme. of the physical breaking and physical renewing of bonds, of tears spilled in both occasions, and between the chasm, the faith in persons, the faith in relationships lies.

Friday, January 29, 2010


25 years ago, i was a 13 year old freshman when a dual encounter was arranged by my school, colegio, the only exclusive school for girls with ateneo de naga, the then only exclusive school for boys (highschool and up) in naga city. i noticed this boy, sitting on an armchair with chin resting on arms clasped, this gangly boy, perhaps taller than me, staring at me, as if he has been struck by lightning. and me being me then, i don't know how to react. being in an exclusive school for girls, i did not know how to react to boys my age. i did not know how to react to this boy, staring at me. this gangly atenean named michael.

he would claim that it was love at first sight for him. which i would not contest. because once upon that time, i was a looker. one of my teachers even quipped that more than one man would cry just by the look of my eyes. yeah, would you believe, i was that beautiful? anyway, this boy, introduced himself as 'toots' that time, given the penchant of ateneans to call themselves by their 'abbreviated' family names.  in that dual encounter, he would always stay close. as if he has found what he wants. as if he has no other girl to need.

but i wasn't in that state, at all. i don't know what i want, much less need. highschool was a very confusing time for me. my dad was so strict, i did not have any life after school. i was not allowed to go out, much more with boys my age. then at that time, i was struck by this silly love bug with helene, my now best-friend. at that time, girls in colegio would have 'MUs' of the same sex. but it was nothing. nothing serious. now, i laugh at it and cannot imagine how could i have 'fallen' for helene. we would laugh about it. how absolutely crazy we were in highschool. crazy, crazy me.

but michael would always be a constant presence. all the way to 4th year, he was even my partner in our victory ball. as if, just being with me would be enough. i would not know the extent of that love till now. michael was the only man who was brave enough to face my father and visit me at home in 1984. then, he was no longer a boy. the boy is very much a man inside. we had a relationship but it was brief. i ended it. because that time, my world was full of restrictions, no room to move. it was also that time when i had this wanton bug eating up on me. i could not believe that this boy, this man, young as he is, could be so serious with me --- at 13? would you believe --- he gave me a ring, his mother's ring --- at 13? but i gave it back. i could not even take myself seriously so how could he? that time too, i still wanted to explore the vast vista out there. i do not want to be tied. i could not allow myself to be tied at that young age. i was determined, he will not be the only man in my life.

so out there i explored the world. while i would ignore him, only read his letters half-way and just nod and shake my head when talk about him comes. i would later learn that he would join the seminary, be a priest. i had an inkling that i was the reason. but i would ignore the guilt. i would suppress him, our memories, because of that guilt. perhaps then i could not believe, could not fathom what michael saw in me. i was still searching for 'that', that 'me'.

so out there i explored the world. and while i found myself in UP, fostered a career in writing and consulting, it was still a harsh world. especially in love relationships. hay, you all know what i have been through and it is enough to crush a woman to pieces, to leave her cold, to leave her dead, dead wood. i would come to thinking that i have found 'me' but it would take 25 years, 25 years, for me to realize and actually believed that michael, my michael, knew all along who i was. perhaps that's why he looked at me as if struck by lightning. perhaps that is what happens when you feel the heart and soul of a lost confused 13-year old colegiala looking at you with deep sad eyes.

michael came back to me, just a week ago. he 'found' me in facebook. i could not believe it. oohh, michael, again. he's here? in facebook? he's not a priest? i went through his album, his photos with his family, his wife, and son. and a wave of nostalgia hit me. hala. of all the men in my life, this man was not privileged to be counted. i asked myself, how could you have done that vitti? and i went back to that spot. to that guilt in my heart and realized how much i have suppressed the truth that yes, for once in my life, i have loved yet truly hurt a man, due to my selfishness. such cruelty. and there, just by looking at him, his handsome strong face, that here is the one i have lost. yet of all the men, this man that was not counted, i could say, would be the only man who loved and respected me, so much, that i could still feel, in 25 years, he still saw in me the heart and soul of the 13 year-old jing. in his words, 'you haven't changed...'

that's why i ask: what do you do when a man from the past, a man you forcefully forgot, comes back into your life, and shows you the same kindness, the same fierce love, the same devotion, as if 25 years ago was just yesterday?  what do you do, when as you rake up memories together, you realize, this man, this 13 year-old atenean who walked with me through the rain from colegio to centro, all drenched, in 1984, could have protected me in life from more than just rain? what do you do when you realize he hasn't been away? he hasn't been that far? that in the last 10 years, your workplaces were just a stone's throw away from each other yet never meeting, even by accident? what do you do when you realize that while he's technically married, he's in transition, out of it? what do you do when you discover the same parallelisms: your sad stories with your partners; he wanting to become a priest, you wanting to become a nun; he with a son and you with a daughter; both of you having similar near death experiences --- he in 2002 and you in 2008; both of you consumed by work, loving only yourselves, eagerly waiting but still going home to empty barren nests? you go back, you step back, and realize. this is not an accident. this is not a random call in facebook. this is destiny. this is fate.

ShadowMan has come as i leave the shadows of the past.

michael and i are more than in transition. we are in continuity. our lives revolve in a mobius band where however you see it, we are connected by the path of going back to self, of homing. i see him, and i'm 'home'. home to a nesting ground where i sift through the pieces of my life and find the broken, crushed and ashen pieces, and realize, as i kiss them one by one, that without these pieces, i could not have had the strength and capacity to acknowledge my deep love for this man. i would not have had this deep knowledge and deep faith on how to love freely again, this one strong loving man.  i look at these broken, crushed, and ashen pieces for the last time, and throw them away for good, yet ever thankful. i no longer need them. i am building anew. i am alive again.

Thursday, January 28, 2010

You are So Everything

his love envelops
binawi lahat
i can't have everything
but i feel i have much much more
why have i let go
then i could have been
from more than just the rain
love is not to be deserved
if given freely
thank you
thank you
thank you

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Miracles Happen

dead wood rekindles
ash bursts forth life
clouds part
and suddenly
shoots sprout
in barren desert
covering the landscape
making it green
seasons stop for a while
to welcome a longer spring
true they shall turn
to fall, autumn and summer
but in this plain
i am no longer alone
i am a stranger found

Thanks to JY Lee.

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Time - My Take

there is a time for rejoicing
a time for settling down
a time to pick up stones
and throw coins on wishing wells
a time to skirt up the field
or just roll over the grass
and admire the blue blue sky
scoop raindrops falling on one's face
and just kiss
kiss each raindrop
and let it blend with the tears
for the rain to wash one's cares and fears
for rain to blend with the tears
and breathe new life
to an expecting heart

Monday, January 25, 2010

ShadowMan Has Come

what do you do when the man you've been waiting for,
the one who fiercely loves you,
suddenly materializes?
that is the question i am facing at the moment.
and i could not find answers.
only tears. tears. tears.
i have been crying over the weekend.
not out of love. but out of fear.
because i realize, i am no Shadow Woman.
i do not deserve him at all.

Thanks to Elen.

Sunday, January 24, 2010


when the sun shines on you
you have to bask in it
when the rain pours
bathe in it
when the wind hollows
sing back
when snow falls
and when the thunder claps
run, hide and cover
but get back
get back
you have to know
how strong
you are again
how ready
you are again

Saturday, January 23, 2010

The Song in My Heart

the melody's awake
rhythm's ready for another dance
slow, earnest but eager
and in my heart
stirrings of emotions
i have long kept buried
awaken anew
by faith
courage slowly
rising from slumber
to join in
the music and
the dance

since when have
i been searching
in search of one
who has been there
and never gone
since when have
i declared death
only for resurrection
to come from
deep inside

Friday, January 22, 2010


i'll probably wear
my hair long
to hide the wrinkles
mask the grays
by flowing blacks
wear it disheveled
to repulse attention
command ugliness
and be insignificant
as the soul
i wear

Thursday, January 21, 2010


i'm upset and haunted by memories of what could and should have been. but i say enough. enough since my past cannot be unravelled. it cannot be undone. if it could be so, then my past could have not been my past and the people i treasure now, foremost yaman, would have ceased to be. perhaps this is the flaw with the movie 'the lake house' (which i still love) because it takes for granted the reverse repercussions, the impact on the past as the present is changed. so i say enough. i made horrible choices in men but that did not deter me from enjoying the joys and highs of motherhood as i know now from my 4-year old. it did not deter me from believing in myself and making the most of the tattered pieces that remained of my confidence and my innocence. i say enough. although i have yet to be complete. but it would do no good to fantasize that a man from the past could do just that and that i could do no more. enough. enough. enough. perhaps in one of my parallel universes, we did make it. we may have been happy. we may have been complete.  but in the parallel universe that you and i live, now, we just have to swallow the bitter pill of real choices, and let go. cry as we might and loud, we cannot even hold hands. we can only speak through words carefully hiding emotions, futile as they are.  and we go on. we should go on, in paths separated by our choices. the past cannot be undone. enough.

Thanks to MoonBloom.

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Heat Lag

the last two nights, the overnight low in perth was above 30C, amid a high of 43C last monday and 38C yesterday. i'm used to the heat of summer in the philippines but not this. to the point that i lost sleep. while my eyes are closed, i am very much aware of the fan, the trembling sound of house pipes, and the weary night as if whispering, sighing too because of the heat. i thought i had insomnia. occasionally i would check my heartbeart, normal still. i could not sleep until at 2am today when the night breeze got cooler, bringing in the dawn. then i went to a deep fitful sleep. not insomnia, but the heat.

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Michael and Irony

he's from my past who caught up with me, all of a sudden. i have almost forgotten. and it made me feel guilty. forgetting. because it seems, he never did. he's always been a knight. too bad, i was then the damsel waiting to be saved, but by another knight. perhaps, caused him a lot of pain. he would send letters, unanswered, unread. i could ask myself why. perhaps, a little later, before i brush. i'd look at myself, and ask. long and hard in the eye. why and how could you have pushed this man away? in close to 15 years, i would have the same answer.  i followed my heart you see. and while it did not leave me happy, i'm not sure whether in the same course, i would have succeeded in making him happy.

Monday, January 18, 2010

Lords of the Sun

baked faces
half-tanned bodies
blistered fingers
roughened hands
bodies taking a beating
while superstitions rule
amidst love for the game
that punishes and takes
beauty and youth
agility and mental strength
in the harshness of
hard, clay and grass courts

For all tennis players, big and small, hailed and forgotten, ranked and challenged. No sports players could have endured the sun more. Photo credits to the 2010 Australian Open at

Sunday, January 17, 2010

A Real 42

it was 42C alright and was i out.  i still made it to mass. which was a blessing since it was the second to the last of father john's masses in st. patrick's pending his next transfer. i was with jom, with great thanks for the company and the drive to and from freo. the sunshine stung and it was hot-stuffy, the heat making you feel like you're in an oven. it's a most 'unproductive' sunday. i didn't get to cross-stitch, cook, or wash my clothes. by the time i got home for 2pm, i was hungry for another lunch (after a lousy one at the freo market in this 'curry place'), and hungry for sleep. by the time i did just before 3pm, it was already hot-stuffy in my room. but i had no choice. still i didn't get much sleep, just restless. and i didn't get much rest either. doing nothing is not what i want.

Saturday, January 16, 2010

Forward to 42C

it's warming up. the virgin coconut oil on my desk, yesterday in white solid form, has now almost melted to a transparent, slightly colorless liquid. the light from the desklamp facing the wall dotted with small brown insects, not bloodsuckers though. the fan isn't yet on but my i feel like taking my pants off. haven't felt the punishment of the sun here in WA, but i might as well have one tomorrow.

Friday, January 15, 2010

The Purity of Children

yesterday, to my guilt, yaman slipped in our living room on the way to her potty, sustained a gash on her lip and cried so much, she cried herself to sleep. i felt so guilty because all the while, i have been playing boggle here at home when that happened. so worried, i immediately called naga when i got to the arc by 9am. in 10 minutes, i was talking ever to my talkative daughter, giggling on the other hand as apparently, her younger cousin gabe, was making her laugh by making faces. when i asked her about the accident, she coolly said that she'll be ok. that she thinks, she'd be alright in a few days. and she went on, about me having to buy a kite for her and her cousins --- with superman, spiderman and mickey mouse designs. that perhaps i should consider buying her kuya gian some paper dolls too since he plays with hers. i could not go back to the accident as apparently my daughter is ok. i expected her not to talk that much, to even hesitate in talking. but she did not. she was cool and delighted, without the trauma of hurt and blood.

to this account, stephii said, 'how fast children recover!' and after i was left alone in the CR washing my plates, i thought about it. children, in their purity, don't hold on to pain or anger or disappointment that long. their capacity for forgetting and forgiveness is endless. this i connect to what amaya told me. 'vitti, to deal with a child, you must raise yourself to the level of the child'. and there i understood in another way. how as children we are really born as pure blemishless souls, quite apart from what religion taught us that original sin already accompanies us from the womb.  if we can only love unconditionally and forgive freely as children, then the world could have known more love than hallmark cards could muster.

Thursday, January 14, 2010

The Weather Rules

in the philippines, i do not miss any sunday mass. i feel i'll be jinxed the coming week every time i miss mass. but here in perth, i'll deliberately miss mass this sunday. for what reason? because it's going to be 42C and i'm afraid i'll wilt under the sun. the first mass at st. patrick's would be about 830am, a time when there is no bus yet going to fremantle via south street. at 5pm, the last mass, the UV would still be unbearable so i'm staying indoors the whole day. 

funny how in its extremity, the weather rules. as jom said to me last wednesday, she has not been more conscious of it than here in australia. here in perth where the sun could get so harsh, everyone feels the right to know what C we will be under the next day or the day when a picnic or social gathering outdoors would be held. in the ARC, we planned to have a picnic this saturday but at the last minute, everyone had to shrug their shoulders, say tsk tsk and cancel (by majority vote) when the forecast flashed a scorching 39C for saturday.  when the weather cools down below 30C, then it's nice to go for a walk without an umbrella or a hat. a fine day to go along the swan river or have a picnic at matilda day as janty and i did one december friday. the weather is part of our schedules, our happiness, events that shape life in a strange country.

in manila, the rains now could hardly bring comfort after our experience with ondoy. in 2000 when i used to work for schema, everytime it rains, i play apo hiking's 'pumapatak na naman ang ulan' in the office and nearly all their records including 'yakap sa dilim'. i want to go home to my warm bed. a rainy day means eating champorado or daing, snuggling with your kids or with someone special or just wrapping yourself up with a sweater. now in its extremes, the rains bring much trepidation. one has to be prepared. not only with candles, batteries, a pack of rice or sardines. but also of rope, of fully charged cellphones, a working car or even just a relative or friend living in higher-elevated areas like in guijo project 3 where one could vacate once flooding becomes a possibility.

i would wonder how flooding in new south wales or the unbelievable -42C in norway this week could have changed the lives of people there. there is only one strong hard reality though. when the weather rules, everyone else bends.

Thanks to Elnur for the pic!

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Boggle Crazy

i love word games. and on top of scrabble, i love Boggle.  sometime in 2007, i downloaded boggle from yahoo but mistakenly saved it in the office laptop in sds. after i left the company in 2008, i was not able to save the game in my thumb drive and i didn't know how to access my subscription again to yahoo. until now. baka sakali lang. i logged in and searched for yahoo boggle. when the link came in, it said that i'm already a subscriber and i could reactivate the game! wow! so since 9pm today, i've been holed up in my room and playing more than 50+ games already. glad i have this pastime. feel that i deserve it since submitting my ethics today.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

The Dark Line

motherhood is
a chronology of stories
of lives orchestrating
the play of generations
comedies and tragedies
in the tale of women
along the line
of spinsters losing
lovers to wars
and their faith to reason
donning slacks
coupling frigidity
to pseudo-masculinity
of mad women holed
up in the dark spaces
of their fears
trapped in the confines
of four walls
never knowing lovers
nor friends
wrapped around the cord
of ignorance
of resignation to hardship
of voiceless women
struggling against straitjackets
worn in marriage
and the surrender of
slapped everyday
by the weaknesses of
their men
it is not the oppression
of the weak
by the strong
but by docility
of the weak with the weak
the line marred
by broken spirits
which the new confront
every day
and struggle to
break away
but the call of the spirits
transcend death
and conspire
against the living
to preserve the line
of suppression
madness and

Monday, January 11, 2010

Seeing Yaman

my left wall is decked with pictures --- me and yaman in a portrait photo, in a candid pose at guijo (gosh, i'm so fat in here) surrounded by four of yaman posing, two at a professional studio with eyes closed mimicking sleep and on the other, with hands clasping her chin as if waiting, pa-cute, pero cute talaga. the last two in the bottom have her on close up, one of our random picture-taking in guijo, and the other of her donning my pants while lying in bed. this is in our bed in naga. now i get to see yaman only in mms photos sent by yumi eversince the hp laptop broke down before january 1. still, even in our webcams, i still could not see the difference. her face looks the same, pretty with a squarish face, her cheekbones prominent when smiling and laughing (like me!) and those big round eyes that could slash paper when she's upset (not me!). in less than 2 months, i will be home and i wonder how i would feel seeing my daughter again. how would she be different in my eyes? before barely reaching the table top in naga. now, she even helps in preparing the table so she's way taller. i wonder whether it would be much of a difference. and would i be different to her --- a little heavier here, and darker. but would it matter? for me, yaman has never changed although she's grown. it must be my emotional memory seeing her.

Sunday, January 10, 2010

The World Is Not Awake

glass half empty
the toil endless
the forgiving farmer
reads the end of days
in still air
infertile seeds
weeds gobbling the land
the beast of burden
dies helpless
the forgiving farmer
knows the end
and sweats in cold fear
as toil is swept by the wind
along with the seeds
and the land

Saturday, January 9, 2010

The Betrayal

i love you
breathe your name
put myself to sleep
with the good times
dreams though
can't cooperate
as i see
your frigid soul
eyes unsmiling
egoistic self
craving lust
yours is proof
that once
i loved
but not

Friday, January 8, 2010

Essential Complicatedness of Love

if there is 'banality of evil' then the complicatedness of love would always be. love persists in separation, in rejection, between strangers. it crosses time, is beyond forgiveness. love could even be just staying, enduring. so it could be natural to also hate, condemn, ignore, fence off, act blindly, in the face of it and for it. there can never be no emotion naked as it is concealing.

Thursday, January 7, 2010

Hoy, Save Yourself First!

you don't have to be an activist to be able to fight for a cause. just fighting for your life, your right to be, your right to be protected from harrassment, from 'hell' men (as opposed to 'heaven men') is enough of a cause to fight for. so i just cannot understand. why someone i know could just shrug off the insults, racism, sexism, and mental torture from a scorned lover and contend with it in silence, hoping that treating it as 'nothing' could make 'it' 'go away'. stupid. liar. a wildlife expert and activist? kiss my ass. what good is saving whales, dolphins, dugongs, turtles and shunning consumption of tuna and prawns when from oppression, one cannot even save oneself. stupid. liar. fake.

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

Word Logic

louis grande
pulse way
principal reminder
service powder
warm chooks
evidence interests

Tuesday, January 5, 2010


i could complain
that i'm missing sleep
that i've got ulcers
and dark skin from the australian sun
but in two years
five months
and 28 days
it will be over
it will be finished
it will be complete
time to let go
of me

Monday, January 4, 2010

The Lost Lunch

i must have stomach ulcer. i 'lost' lunch today because of all ridiculous decisions, murdoch uni decided to 'open' today without compelling its canteens, usually 5 around campus, to open as well. so there's no available canteen to buy rice from, having come from nedlands straight. what did i miss? i miss eating rice, a hot meal. i thought i could make up after hurrying my submission to jane around 1pm. but when i got back to loris around 130pm, i was throwing up the 'substitute' lunch of whole meals biscuits. half an hour later, i threw up the half-loaf of bread and my supposed lunch of rice and sardines (had to hurry up you see). i made a go at the toilet twice. this is a similar experience to the one i had last december. this is not funny anymore.  i do not want to have ulcer. it's so not me. ulcer comes at times of pressure when you need only the challenge of the mind to face, and not some painful stomach. but i think i have it. so somewhere in the middle, i have to come to terms with it.

Sunday, January 3, 2010

To be Feminine Again

salma, luky and dara's daughter, tend to mistake me as a 'man' perhaps because of the way i dress in jeans and shirts, not to mention, my short hair. in this new year, i became a bit conscious of that. one look at my wardrobe and i could understand. i normally buy my shirts at bench, men's section specifically. so naturallement, i would really look like a walking model for man's clothes, mannish nga. if i would buy femme stuff, it would be at the SHE and Apple & Eve boutiques at robinson's galleria because they cater to plus-sized women and could whip chic trendy clothes with a little flair to make big women like me 'sexy'. so how would i look feminine again now that i brought only 3 pieces of the latter with me while the rest is dominated by the former? perhaps i should wear earrings every day and make it a point to try my femme blouses once a week and add some to the rack by shopping. there is no reason why i want to be attractive again. i just want to. something in me just wants to let the woman flow out of me. despite the age and weight. i know it's a good thing.

Thanks to Monika for the pic!

Saturday, January 2, 2010


i was hesitant to watch when elaine recommended it. Prime (2005) the movie which stars Meryl Streep, Uma Thurman and Bryan Greenberg. but in less than 2 hours, ending after 9pm today, i ended up liking it. in a bittersweet wispy kind of feeling. i could not tell you the plot as i'll end up spoiling it, the feeling, for you.

what i can say is, sometimes 'realistic' films like these make us aware how we have become so attuned, and expecting of cinderella-type fairy-tale endings in our relationships. conflicts and compromises come naturally but we tend to see these as white noise, just obstructions, and not central. it makes us forget the essence that love is an endless struggle between persons, not just two, but a multitude caught up in the connectedness of our circumstances. the endings of our relationships may not be as we want, or as we hoped, based on our stereotypic notions of the 'ideal' ending (i.e., man and woman ending up together and walking hand in hand to the sunset like the scene from An Officer and A Gentleman).

but these un-ideal endings would often mark our transition towards being mature and accepting persons, of being able to manifest love that is not capture. love that is freeing. because in essence, to love is not bend another person to our will. but rather, to un-restrict and free that person from any obligation because the notion of what should be. 

in the movie, Mrs. Doubtfire, the issue of family was resolved in the end by the acceptance of divorce as an eventuality, as separation that is as normal as fierce unions. but it is a condition worked at by mature persons to minimize the trauma on children. responsibility is not lost between the father (played by Robin Williams) and mother (Sally Fields).  the same with Prime. love emanates throughout the film and it evolves. from the physical-sexual to the grounding-transitional stage of living and enduring faults and failings to the transcending of togetherness in favor of forgiveness, acceptance, respect, and release. at the end of the film, the expressions of Rafi (Uma) and David (Bryan) say it all, and until now at this blogging, in my mind, they are so vivid. i love you so. i grow in the love you give. i will take that love with me even if it comes, without you.

Photo courtesy of

Friday, January 1, 2010

Random Wishes

smell of fresh cut grass
snowflakes on my shoulder
a pink sunrise
trip to italy
rosewood desk for writing
cooking my first pasta
a love call
sunflowers lining the road
smelling yaman's hair
growing my first tomato garden
learning how to bake
soft white toenails
return to letter writing
a star gazing date
straight flowing hair
in white cotton dress

Thanks to Iakov for the pic!