Twenty eleven.

Welcome young folk.

Image via Korean Lovers.

Jolly and co.

So the jolliest time of the year is coming to a close, and here I am again. Confused and scared. This year I realised that not all families are the same. That people leave their families alone at Christmas. It troubled me, but I have come to realise that everyone values things differently.

Twelve months ago I posted about the anticipation of twenty-ten. I had uttered those three syllables in joyous anticipation for years prior. I knew they were going to bring something big. They bought many things, like pain and joy, a friendship that is quite unconventional but treasured all the same. They bought success which I think was due to me finally finding something lucky. On this subject I would like to say that you can't just find something and decide it is lucky (which I have done to a few objects) you have to find something that combines all the elements of things you love and it still sustain a necessary purpose. So I found this object of mine, but to be honest I know it wasn't the luck, it was the blood sweat and tears.

So twenty-ten delivered just like every other twelve months that comes and goes.

Now it is bordering twenty-eleven. My possessions are packed tightly in card-board boxes and I am preparing myself for a life of rent and train tickets. I'm scared but not in the senses that I should be.

Image via weheartit.

Obstacles of being. Part four.

A sticky situation: Strolling through the supermarket I came upon the juice isle. It had been quite a while since I had had juice so I became quite excited by the thought of having a refreshing cup of icy-cold fruit juice. I stood in front of the selection for what seemed like five minutes but was actually probably more like five seconds and pondered which juice I wanted. With a smile on my face I leaped forward and grasped the bottle. As a went to put it in the trolley I looked down and noticed that my hair was stuck to the bottle. In panic I spun around and tryed to return the sticky bottle to the shelf in a bee-swarm-like motion. I spent the rest of the grocery shopping time rubbing my hands together because they were so sticky and trying to untangle my sticky hair.

I said to Mama: "lets cut it off!". She replied: "But you love your hair". It's like an arm or a finger, some days you like it some days you despise it, but its always there.

Image via weheartit.

Clockwise.

Wowza. Today was the day that the trampoline came crashing down. I saw it there in the morning and decided something must be done after many years of passing comments about how it must go. So I opened my tool-box and grabbed my shifter and a hat and walked into the hot hot sun. I like handy-work, it makes me feel strong. I lasted about five minutes before I was exhausted. One screw was remeved in this time, but there were still many to go. Spiders came scurrying out of the place they had come to call home, where they had raised their children and built many-a-web.

Many fun times were shared on that trampoline, like playing octopus jumping games with Be and Zee, trying to chase after Lella when she said she didn't want to play anymore and falling through the springs, dangling by my feet. The Summer days when we would get home from school and ask Mamma to hose us while we jumped. When friends would come over for the afternoon and you would spend almost the whole evening trying to jump the highest and talking about how amazing it would be if the whole world was made of trampolines. What a pip.

1. Photograph by Saga Sig, The NeverEndingStory.

2. via weheartit.

Throw your heart out in front of you.

Cemetery Junction, what a fantastic film.

"Throw your heart out in front of you and run ahead to catch it."

Look after me.

I love the "My Best Friend " section of the ABC children's program 'Giggle and Hoot'. The song is so catchy and the wee children are so kind, talking about what they enjoy about their best friends.

I miss my best friend. We used to share every lunchtime together at school. On the rainy days I would get quiet and sad and he would be happier than ever. He didn't like the sunny days, but I did. We would go to the canteen together and sit at the table whilst I peeled off rotten paint and carried my lunchbox around and he would shake his head as I searched out the playground for more pieces of paint to remove. I loved when we would drive home with Justin Bieber so loud and you would sing and make up interpretive dance.

Svensen Hollerer, you are one of the coolest people I have ever known. You havn't changed your puppy hair for as long as I have known you, I don't know how you get it so soft.

Images via weheartit.

Flip.

These aren't tears of sadness because you're leaving me

I've just been cutting onions, I'm making a lasagne for one

Oh, I'm not crying, no

There's just a little bit of dust in my eye

That's from the path that you made when you said your goodbye

I'm not weeping 'cause you won't be here to hold my hand

For your information there's an inflammation in my tear gland

I'm not upset because you left me this way

My eyes are just a little sweaty today

They've been looking around and searching for you

They've been looking for you even though I told them not not

….

I'm sitting down at this table called love

Staring down at the irony of life

How come we've reached this fork in the road

And yet it cuts like a knife?

I love Flight of the Conchords.

Tea for my cosy.

I finally found a tea pot for my tea cosy. I have been searching for a tea pot that I liked for so long and today was the day that it happened.

Garden bliss.

Yesterday Zee, Mishka, Mammy and I did some gardening. It was swell, but very hard. I pulled up a clump of weeds so large that it took up half the dirt in the garden with it.

Today Zee, Mishka and I went on an hour long walk. It was lovely to be outside looking at all the lovely flowers the neighbourhood had to offer. As we walked up the hill next to the old factory we almost collapsed in exhaustion. The old buildings are so beautiful, its a shame there is no-one to take care of them and stop the windows from being broken. I would like to live in there, open plan style with all those windows. It would be grand.

Now I am home, it is a lovely spring evening and the birds are tweeting yonder, my hair is wet and making puddles on the floor.

Sanctuary.

Wilber stood behind the glass window with an indifferent facial expression, his hot cocoa forming steam streaks on the glass panes. He shifted his weight, rocking from heel to toe as his small russet coloured sausage dog, Alfredo, lingered around his worn in boat shoes.

The small cottage nestled in the heart of the city seemed odd in its squatness as the bland grey buildings stretched up towards the sky that seemed so full of life and wonder.

The rooms of the cottage smelled of off-set printing, paper and tea-leaves. A sense of love oozed from the interior walls of the cottage. Photographs of people - appearing as if they were filled with joy and surrounded by others whom they loved - sprawled across almost every wall. Each wall that wasn't covered in these delighted faces was filled from floor to ceiling with an array of books from every imaginable encyclopedia to the literary classics of Charlotte Brontë and Tolstoy.

Wilber ventured out of his house rarely, only for the bare necessities and even then he tried to stretch the time between each outing as far apart as possible. In the outside environment he felt as though the world was spinning slightly too fast on its axis, as if everything around him and himself could become un-hinged in a second.

As he stepped onto the footpath his heartbeat would speed up, a small pearl of perspiration would glide from his hairline, down the smooth wrinkles of his forehead to his furrowed brow.

In a swarm of people Wilber felt alone. He couldn't control his senses and instincts. His elevated stress levels did not decline in any sense until his little cottage was in view. Even then every step between him and his front door seemed to large.

As Wilber shut the heavy wooden door behind him and turned to see the ever anticipated comfort of his home, his breathing slowed. He closed his eyes and absorbed the familiar scents of everything he loved. Everything he needed. His muscles loosened as a sense of safety reigned over him.

His paralysing state of affinity was disturbed only when Alfedo glided past his calves and slumped at his feet, welcoming his closest companion back into their sanctuary.

This is where Wilber belonged, with the familiarity of his well kept books, his noble friend and his tired and treasured possessions. Wilber doesn't need the distractions of loud strangers or the buzz of morning coffee. He only needs the things he loves, for there with Alfredo and his books, he is whole.

Image via Weheartit.

Note: this is no way to treat books. Paper has a longer memory than elephants.

Sandwiches.

I can not wait to see Two Door Cinema Club with Lella. What a pip!

On another note, today as I was doing some gardening I heard what sounded like at least two people, so I did my usual thing and hid behind the hedges while they passed. As I was hiding the noise got closer but there was only one set of footsteps. So it turned out that it had only been one woman singing to herself. It made me chuckle and then I carried on chopping the hedges. Now I have a shaky hand because my muscles have gone into shock. I like gardening.

Listless.

there are eight days until the beginning of my summer, one exam, one and a half hours. So at the end of all of this I shall try to complete my patchwork quilt and start my summer reading list. So far the list is pretty long and I don't think I will be able to get through it but I will try. Thus far this is what is on it:

1. War and Peace, Tolstoy

2. The Harry Potter series

3. The Old Man and the Sea, Hemingway

4. Tender is the Night, F. Scott Fitzgerald

5. The Bronze Horseman, Simons ( I'm halfway through already, so hopefully this one will be quite quick)

The list grows everyday but I know that I'm going to start with War and Peace and see how far I can get. Oh summer how I love your keen rays and bright light.

Image via turquoisekeytomyheart.

Bottled wisdom.

Love your neighbour, but do not pull the fence down. - Chinese proverb

Image via turquoisekeytomyheart.

Imaginary moments.

Photograph via from me to you.

Fresh to death.

Image via Korean Lovers.

Dance me to the end of love.

Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin

Dance me through your panic 'til I'm gathered safely in

Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove

Dance me to the end of love

Dance me to the end of love

Oh let me see your beauty when the witnesses are gone

Let me feel you moving like they do in Babylon

Show me slowly what I only know the limits of

Dance me to the end of love

Dance me to the end of love

Dance me to the wedding now, dance me on and on

Dance me very tenderly and dance me very long

We're both of us beneath our love, we're both of us above

Dance me to the end of love

Dance me to the end of love

-Written by Leonard Cohen, performed by Madeleine Peyroux

Yesterday I went to our beloved family friend's wedding. My Da married the two in a garden whilst the rain slightly sprinkled. Mama made the dress, and it was lovely. The celebrations stretched into the dark and we finally came to the time for dancing. As I watched the newly married couple sway across the dance floor I couldn't help but smile. They looked at each other with such happiness and love, it was something to be awed at.

As the music got louder and moved into the more contemporary genre my darling nephew was drawn to the dance floor. He has a natural sense of rhythm and feels the need to dance whenever he feels a beat moving though his feet. By the end of the night he had us all on the dance floor, surrounding him, for he wouldn't dance unless we were all on the dance floor busting some moves.

It was a very enjoyable celebration of love.

Photograph by Jeff Carter.

Those good days of old.

This is my darling nephew's Schleich dog. He reminds me of Inspector Rex, of how I used sing and dance to the theme song when it came on, and how I desperately wanted to learn to speak German so I could enjoy Inspector Rex to its ultimate capacity. He taught me to say Scheiße, and although I now have deserted my want to learn to speak German and am now focusing on Korean, I still love Inspector Rex. And I shall always remark; "look its Inspector Rex" to the closest person whenever I see a dog that looks similar. So, bis bald mein lieber freund.

Antidote.

Image via icanread.

Rhythmic unicorns.

Love; Having a double connection to a disc-man that plays the Carpenters all day. Walking down a wharf eating ice-cream, holding hands and listening to the Carpenters. Skating till the sun goes down listening to the carpenters. Not having to speak, because words had become superfluous, so you just stare into each others eyes and listen to the Carpenters. Well there it is, love. From the dictionary of Anooke.

Image via ruffled.

On the shore of the wide world.

When I have fears that I may cease to be

Before my pen has glean'd my teeming brain,

Before high-piled books, in charactery,

Hold like rich garners the full ripen'd grain;

When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face,

Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,

And think that they may never live to trace

Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;

And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,

That I shall never look upon thee more,

Never have relish in the faery power

Of unyielding love; - then on the shore

Of the wide world I stand alone, and think

Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.

-John Keats.

Image via tumbleanne.

Glossary dreams.

"I am so clever that sometimes I don't understand a single word of what I am saying" -Oscar Wilde.

I am confused, feeling like goldfish in a maze. Lets just flip to the back of the book to find the answers, or at least a glossary.

And I love this.

via koreanloversphotoblog.

Sitting at the bus stop.

via weheartit.

Where art thou Melvin.

I wish I was out walking with Melvin. Running through grass, the wind blowing through our hair, birds tweeting at the delight, soft music playing in the background. Everyday would be like a love montage in a film with an exuberant amount of slow motion. We are going to be happy one day Melvin, and I can't wait.

Image via weheartit.

Surround me with paper.

I. Love. Books.

I recently purchased 'Of The Abuse Of Words' by John Locke. Its quite fascinating, according to Mr. Locke, 'If a man thinks without knowing it, the sleeping and waking man are two persons'. How insightful!

Furry companion.

This my friends is Brittany. We have shared seventeen years together and even though I don't particularly like the dress she wears or her name, I love her. I like that the fur on her legs that is rarely seen is so soft and newer looking than the rest of her fur. I like that she fits perfectly in my arms as I go to sleep, and that despite she is so good to hug I find her on the other side of the bed in the morning, or even on the ground. I hope you enjoyed getting clean today.

Here comes the sun.

Here comes the sun, here comes the sun,

And I say it's alright.

Little darling it's been a long cold lonely winter

Little darling it feels like years since its been here

here comes the sun, here comes the sun,

And I say its alright.

- Here Comes the Sun, The Beatles.

Today I graduated High School. I shall miss my friends but I am looking forward to the journey ahead.

Image via Weheartit.

Like birds of a feather.

"Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs" -William Shakespeare.

Image via weheartit.

The twilight hour.

"the general impression I desire to convey is of a side door crashing open in life's full flight, and a rush of roaring black time drowning with its whipping wind the cry of lone disaster"

-from Vladimir Nabokov's Lolita.

It feels good.

... to twist the night away. I have never been dancing. I haven't done a lot of things that I thought I would have by this age.

T. S. Eliot and Tennyson have a power of words over me that I cannot explain. Sam Cooke makes me feel that there is love. Disrespected books make me want to weep. My ability to make tasty guacamole makes me proud.

"Keep love in your heart. A life without it is like a sunless garden when the flowers are dead" - Oscar Wilde.

Milk & honey.

Oh how things can change in a week. The blossoms have bloomed, as pretty as ever. The sun shines and all is well. Sam Cooke is live at the Harlem Square Club in 1963, in my living room. Chai is running through my veins and chills are running up my spine. Spring, you are the finest season of all. "I love you for sentimental reasons" do do do.

Spring.

Happy first of Spring my little ones. Enjoy this lovely season. It makes me want to be in love in a movie. With a boy who reads poetry aloud and drops fresh wild flowers on my doorstep, whilst riding past on his skateboard wearing boat-shoes, a bow-tie and a cardigan. I love Spring.

Photographs by Anooke.

Her light.

Beginning to faint in the light that she loves

On a bed of daffodil sky,

To faint in the light of the sun that she loves,

To faint in his light, and to die.

...

I said the rose, "The brief night goes

In a babble and revel of wine.

O young lord-lover, what sighs are those,

For one that will never be thine?

But mine, but mine," so I swear to the rose.

"For ever and ever, mine."

And the soul of the rose went into my blood,

As the music clashed in the hall;

And long by the garden lake I stood,

For I heard your rivulet fall

From the lake to the meadow and on to the wood,

Our wood, that is dearer than all;

From the meadow your walks have left so sweet

That wherever a March-wind sighs

He sets the jewel-print of your feet

In the violets as blue as your eyes,

To the woody hollows in which we meet

And the valleys of Paradise.

The slender acacia would not shake

One long milk-bloom on the tree;

The white lake-blossom fell into the lake

As the pimpernel dozed on the lea;

But the rose was awake all night for your sake,

Knowing your promise to me;

The lilies and roses were awake,

They sigh'd for the dawn and thee.

...

There has fallen a splendid tear

From the passion-flower at the gate.

She is coming, my dove, my dear;

She is coming, my life, my fate;

The red rose cries, "She is near, she is near;"

And the white rose weeps, "She is late;"

The larkspur listens, "I hear, I hear;"

And the lily whispers, "I wait."

She is coming, my own, my sweet;

Were it ever so airy a tread,

My heart would hear her and beat,

Were it earth in an earthly bed;

My dust would hear her and beat,

Had I lain for a century dead;

Would start and tremble under her feet,

And blossom in purple and red.

-From 'Maud', Lord Alfred Tennyson.

Photograph by Anooke.

la la la.

Yesterday I finished my major work that has been weighing heavily on my shoulders. I feel so relieved and it actually turned out far better than I expected. Now I have no more assessments until my final exams. I have decided that I am going to put the same amount of time as I spent working on my major work into my regular studies. It is going to be hard, however ten weeks of determination is all it will take. Forward.

Image via portable airport.

Like sands in an hourglass.

I find it absolutely amazing how complex each and every individual is. When you talk to someone you have no idea what they are thinking, most of the time, and if you don't know the person that well you can't be sure how much they know about you. For months I have watched a particular woman, whom I knew nothing about. Then one day my mother and I were in the post-office and were cued behind her. My mother started a conversation about how busy the line was and so we ended up conversing for about five minutes while we waited in line. The funny thing was that we knew so much about her, yet so little, and she had no idea that we had created a whole personality for her. She was very nice and knowledgable. After this incident I realised that you can never be sure what people are thinking, what their history is or where they are going. You can only know what is going on in your mind. Its frightening at times but comforting all the same.

Image via portable airport.

Taeyang.

You are the finest boy I ever did see. I think that we should start a dance group and get married, you could play piano while I play kazoo.

Remember.

On Monday I stopped being a child and became an adult, legally. The celebrations started on Saturday when my precious sisters, brother-in-law and nephew came. Zee had organised a "wig" party, meaning that everyone was required to wear a wig. It was brilliant, with the eventual trading of each-others wigs. One of the best parts was the cake. Mammy and Zee made a masterpiece consisting of profiteroles on top of a mud cake. Be provided the sweets, Lella provided her pretty face, Father provided the tunes and my nephew Hamish provided his amazing self.

The celebrations rolled on to Sunday when I received my first piece of real jewellery. An antique men's signet ring. It makes me feel like a real adult. Now when I drink tea my finger chimes on the china cups and it shines in the sunlight. Hamish kissed me, he is the coolest, I can't believe I share similar genes with one of the most beautiful boys in the world.

I serenaded my mother in the kitchen and made her slow dance with me on Monday.

Overall I had one of the best birthdays I have ever experienced. And in the wise words of Douglas, I can now experience all the immoral things that the world offers.

Image via Weheartit.

Rupert Grint.

Happy birthday. You are still as fine as ever.

Mr. Bieber.

I recently have a new found respect for Justin Bieber. He can ollie. I can't. So therefore he deserves a little respect.

Listen Jack.

The buzzard took the monkey for a ride in the air

The monkey thought that everything was on the square

The buzzard tried to throw the monkey off his back

But the monkey grabbed his neck and said "Now listen Jack"

Straighten up and fly right

Straighten up and stay right

Straighten up and fly right

Cool down Pappa, don't you blow your top

...

The buzzard told the monkey "You are chokin' me"

Release your hold and I will set you free

The monkey looked the buzzard right dead in the eye

And said, "Your story is touching, but it sounds like a lie"

-Straighten Up And Fly Right, Nat King Cole.

Oh love.

If you're ever worried

If you're all alone

Just remember darling that I'm as near as your telephone

And if you need me, honey all you got to do is to call me

Believe me, it's all right

It's all right It's all right It's all right

Honey, it's all right

Long as I know, long as I know that you love me

Baby, it's all right

-Sam Cooke, It's alright.

Oh Sam Cooke, I'm so in love.

image via weheartit.

光彩

Dior couture collection photographed by Quentin Shih. Love it.

via Fashion Bits and Bobs.

Lovely.

Oh ballet is so beautiful. I have never been to the live ballet. The night that my mammy and sisters went many years ago, I was about six. I spent the night with my father, riding ferrys and eating ice-cream. I don't remember much about it but apparently I claimed that it was the best night of my life.

Photograph of Margot Fonteyn by Norman Parkinson for Vogue 1959.