Millions of years.

Millions and millions of years

would still not give me half enough time

to describe that tiny instant of all eternity

when you put your arms around me

and I put my arms around you.

- Jacques Prevert

(Anyone else read that guy's name as "Pervert"? Because I definitely did. Whoops.)

Traveling Thursdays: Travel and life.

NOT ONLY do I love Diane von Furstenberg for the iconic designer that she is, but I also admire her for her strength, wisdom, and free spirit.

I look at her curly, frizzy mane; I openly stare at her wrinkles that she doesn't attempt to hide nor alter; and then I think, wow, this is what I aspire to be like when I grow older; gracefully, and completely comfortable in my own skin, free to be me and no one else.

I remember reading an article once, and her secret to doing it all was to, just simply, love life, and keep on moving.

Love life. Keep on moving. That will be my motto, not only for my two weeks in Singapore and Bali, but for my own individual journey moving forward.

Which reminds me, I have exactly one week left to figure out what to pack for Asia, and I have been lusting after DVF's line of stylishly sturdy luggage for the longest time. In any case, I am definitely keeping some of the designer's (free!) jetsetting tips and other traveling tidbits in mind for now.

There are no wrong turns.

Things have not been easy. And my heart doesn't realize it's still hurting so deeply until I am alone, in the dark.

In the darkness, the silence whispers to me stories of memories and moments with you. In the darkness, I can't pretend to forget; the sobs escaping my chest are reminders that I will always remember.

It's painful, when you realize that some journeys are meant to be traveled on your own; that in order to go forward, you must leave certain things, people, or places behind. There's always the tendency and desire to hold on, but I've learned time and time again that you cannot move on without letting go. Otherwise, you risk betraying your own soul; your own potential to grow.

But there has always been something freeing in getting lost. For oftentimes, it is while getting lost that we usually find our own way again.

I'm finding my own way again. And up ahead, where I am heading, there are no wrong turns.

Sitting, Waiting, Wishing.

Thursday night. I'm in this little nook of a bedroom of mine, listening to my heart missing you.

It's pouring in my city right now. Is the sky crying and sobbing over where you are, too?

Dream, dream, dream.

"Many of us stockpile dreams for years, cataloging and filing them away for later. Some of our heads are so full of them that it is hard to believe there is enough room for them all. If space does become a concern, one of the best places to store a dream is in reality. Once your dream has been realized, it is technically no longer your dream, but it may serve as inspiration for other peoples' dreams, in which case, it is still something of a dream. There is something of a dream in almost everything around us."

- Sam Grawe, Editor-in-Chief of Dwell Magazine

Dreams, like birds, should never be caged.

Traveling Thursdays: Stunning Sky Park in Singapore

As you look at these pictures of Sky Park in Singapore, remember that the U.S. hasn't upgraded its major infrastructure in over 50 years. Roads, bridges, the electrical grid, and mass transit have been put on hold for so long nobody even talks about them anymore. And decades ago we began shipping our manufacturing jobs overseas because they were only low-paying, menial, low-tech jobs, which didn't warrant our attention. Does this look like what a low-paying, low tech economy can do?

- Forwarded email and all accompanying photos from one of T's contacts in Singapore to some of the conference attendees. We'll be staying there from July 1st - July 4th, before hopping over to Bali for another ten days.

What kind of writer.

"THE WOMAN ASKED me what kind of writers I’m looking for. I don’t remember what I told her. This is what I wish I’d said: I’m looking for a writer who doesn’t know where the sentence is leading her; a writer who starts with her obsessions and whose heart is bursting with love; a writer sly enough to give the slip to her secret police, the ones who know her so well, the ones with the power to accuse and condemn in the blink of an eye. It’s all right that she doesn’t know what she’s thinking until she writes it, as if the words already exist somewhere and draw her to them. She may not know how she got there, but she knows when she’s arrived."

Read more beautifully written, enlightening thoughts at Sy Safransky's Notebook (June 2011, Issue 426).

Memory Lane Mondays: Reliving prom.

As we finalize decisions and game plan for our Asia trip (17 days!), I find myself in slight panic mode, as I am still without a formal gown for the "Bollywood-themed" gala we will be attending while in Singapore. I think I hit the jackpot when I stumbled on http://www.promgirl.com/ last night, as there are many affordable, gorgeous styles in beautiful, vibrant colors. (Whether or not I will need to get the dress tailored is another story altogether.)

Which got me thinking: my highschool prom was sort of a disaster. Several people got stuck in traffic that day, including myself and the bestie, so we all ended up missing our dinner reservations. My then-boyfriend and I had also gotten into a huge argument at the beginning of the evening, which soured the rest of the night's festivities. But, worst of all, the dress I had oh so carefully designed and saved up money to get personally made -- the dress whose details I had several discussions with the seamstress months beforehand -- was ill-fitting, too short, and looked nothing like I had envisioned it to be.   

But there were definitely some bright moments. My aunt, who has been my hairstylist for years, did my gorgeous updo for free. We all had a good time ordering in pizza, relaxing and hanging out at my girlfriend's house beforehand. M and I were also thankful for the extra two hours we suddenly had on our hands to continue primping and getting ready.

And although prom itself and the after-party was a little lame, I am all in all very glad that I got to experience a staple American tradition, with funny stories and memories to share for years to come.

The laws of the universe.

There are moments where I want to scold time and tell it to stand absolutely still. Like the first time you whispered into my ear that you loved me, on a warm and balmy summer night just like tonight, on a bench in a half-forgotten, isolated park in the middle of the city. Or the time you reached for me through the early morning fog, pulling me closer against your chest, our bodies melding into each other's so perfectly, our hearts beating in tandem with a faraway mosque's call to prayer.

I wish. I wish I can freeze time indefinitely as I please. So that today is still tomorrow, and tomorrow will be today, still, extending over the course of numerous days and weeks and maybe even months to come, where time has no authority over us; where time doesn't change anything between us; where time is always exactly where it's supposed to be for either of us. 

But the laws of the universe forbids this. And so I move on, powerless against the seconds and minutes of time; weightless, like a graying, dying dandelion, its seeds being blown apart, its pieces carried away into the wind. 

There is no turning back, I know. And although time will never stand still for anyone, at the very least, it always offers us the chance to heal; the luxury of starting over all again. 

The funny thing about fairy tales is.

The funny thing about fairy tales, is that we forget about them so fast
And we grow up, we buy things, we build up fences
We sell our innocence and forget our dreams
We forget who we are in order to be something we're not
And we'll keep believing in these so called truths, until we forget how to live
Or until we open our eyes, and wake up.


Intentio - Trailer from Loïc Wirth on Vimeo.

I haven't stumbled on a poignant video on Vimeo in a while, but this one pulled at the heartstrings on too many different levels not to share.

Photography, Editing, Filming and Direction by Loïc Wirth
Narration by Vernon Deck
"In a Broken Dream" performed by UNKLE

Traveling Thursdays: The enigmatic wonders of Egypt.

As everyone complains about the oppressing heat we've had in DC lately, my mind wanders off to all of the Egyptian cities and villages I was fortunate enough to travel to with T in November 2009.

As our extremely knowledgeable guides took us to see the temples and tombs, I was in constant awe, day after day, at the level of intricacy of the artwork adorning the walls and ceilings. Despite the throngs of modern-day tourists at every corner, I felt such a deep, intimate connection to the hundreds of thousands of workers who spent their lives building these amazing establishments for the pharaohs and their families.

Considering the pyramids are some of the oldest structures in the world - the Great Pyramid of Giza, specifically, is the only one still standing out of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World - I also felt incredibly small, both on a physical as well as historical level.

I will never forget the completely insane and constantly congested streets of Cairo, the grandeur of Karnak, kissing on a camel's back, and admiring the sun set as we sailed down the Nile together.

Summer livin'.

Growing up, summer meant climbing and swinging off trees, racing my bike down hills all day, and spending all of our money on candy and Mr. Freezies from the mom-and-pop convenience store a few blocks down the street.

I can't remember the last time I felt like I had all the time in the world like I did back then, but I resolve to get back in touch with my inner child in the next few months.

Inspired by Emily from Cupcakes and Cashmere's summer to-do list, here is my very own for my first summer of DC livin':

1. Relax after a busy work week at Jazz in the Garden at the National Gallery of Art Sculpture Garden [DONE - 6/24/11 & 7/29/11].
2. Medidate with old and potentially new friends in the Moongate Garden at the Smithsonian National Museum of African Art.
3. Visit the Newseum. [DONE - 6/12/11]
4. Watch a movie -- or several -- outdoors. [DONE - 6/12/11]
5. Practice my photography on still life or people.
6. Ride around the city, thanks to Capital Bikeshare.
7. Kayak during sunset on the Potomac River on Jack's Boathouse Twilight Tour.
8. Check out a beer garden.
9. Wander around the Eastern Market for fresh produce and various trinkets.
10. Take a cooking class, in the hopes that it will lead me to cooking more in general.
11. Take a sewing class, and attempt to make my own sundress(es). (But not before donating lots of old clothes to Goodwill, first!)

And, needless to say, there will be plenty of pool parties, BBQs, and roadtrips with friends in between!

I Wrote This For You.

Know someone as much as you can. Hold onto the moments that define them. Then when their body leaves, they won’t.

...

You could get on my motorbike and we could drive to a lake. We could talk about what it means to be you, what it means to be me, what it means to love and what it means to be us. And in 20 years' time, we could look back on this day and know that we meant what we said.

...

You remember and dwell on all the things you've lost and ignore all the things you haven't. Because your scars are like stars. Yet the night stays perfectly black.

...

Prose from an old favorite, I Wrote This For You, that I was all too happy to rediscover recently, thanks to my friend V.

Midnight urges.

It is past midnight on a Sunday night, and I suddenly got the urge to drive, drive, drive all the way to the beach on my own to see the sun rise in a few hours.

Something missing.

"... [She] confides that their relationship was always loving but unstable because they were missing something, a mystery element neither of them figured out." - Vicki Christina Barcelona

Tempestuous. Tumultuous. Mercurial. She reminds me so much of myself; tortured soul, underneath this polished, calm surface I present to the world. I think I could have been an artist, if I had really tried to actually do more than doodle, but writing has always been my outlet. There is a degree of control in choosing which thoughts to give form to; which words to paint the bigger picture with.

I'm not sure what this summer -- this new chapter -- will bring. But whatever it is, I have faith that it will be for the best.

I'm hoping, for the best.

You're always on my mind.

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