seen from Malaysia
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from China
seen from Lithuania
seen from Türkiye
seen from Singapore
seen from Netherlands
seen from Singapore
seen from Russia
seen from United States
seen from Pakistan
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Germany
seen from Russia
seen from United States
seen from Algeria
seen from Türkiye
seen from South Korea
January. clear morning light. the first pages of a new journal. earl grey. lace-trimmed cotton camisoles. cold cream. curling up with a new book. honey drizzled on fresh baguette. powder-soft perfumes and vintage dreams. cashmere. the scent of snow. a new poem to learn by heart.
June: Hopeful afternoons, humid nights, aching bones, visiting graveyards, yearning, withering, standing in the wind, and hiding in shadows. Quiet dreaming, wishing to be outside, hiding from the sun, reading books, eating fresh fruit, being in love, the scent of life in the air.
October. clear, cool light. notebooks overflowing with thoughts and text fragments. pistachio cake. a first hint of cashmere. clay masks. hot tea and fine rain. vanilla body lotion. getting lost in the city. books with pencil notes in the margins. dark chocolate. the scent of leather. nostalgia and new beginnings.
february foggy forest walks. weekend getaways at spa hotels. powder blue cashmere sweater. a bouquet of red roses on valentine's day – who could it be from? one of your many admirers. cherry red pointelle underwear. sheer red lip oil. napoleon torte. being flustered and blushing – and loving it. lace bralettes with tie straps. heart shaped waffles with heart shaped strawberries. having a crush. clean sheets & a good romcom.
really excited for the next chapter.
May. rhubarb. well-loved paperbacks. using lipstick as rouge, rosy flushed cheeks. green tea with bergamot. fluttering silk. chestnut blossoms tangled in long hair. honey-scented soap. handwritten notes, swirls of ink. spotting, with mild surprise and some delight, the first rose blossoms.
June. white cotton, red lipstick. trying a new writing routine. bitter orange marmelade. wild strawberries. empty museums, scribbled notes. stacks of beat-up library books. transparent fragrances (delicate citrus, blooming jasmine). working by the open window - rustling paper, rustling branches. dancing bats. litchi lemonade. collecting beautiful sentences, beautiful thoughts, and weaving something worthwhile out of them. doing the work, gently and relentlessly.
September. meringue clouds. black tea with orange blossoms, afternoons vibrating with poetry. cotton on bare skin. a soft breeze playing in the curtains. languid dreams of white lace. dark chocolate, tender-bitter. the last few drops of shimmering body oil. honeyed light, honeyed perfume. the afternoon of summer, languid-melancholic-sensual.
