March arrived today, bringing with it rain, lots of rain and wind. I’m still holding out for just one little snow day, just one before Spring makes her true arrival.
{Image // Saul Leiter}
Tag: Life (page 35 of 47)
In talking with someone today, they shared with me that they felt I was brave. I waved it off politely, for I don’t see myself that way, but she reiterated to me that I was. I thanked her and our conversation carried on.
Her words stayed with me this afternoon. Brave means different things to different people. We don’t often look at ourselves in those terms, but the more I thought about it and I mean this is no conceded way, I thought to myself, “Yes! Yes! I am brave!”
As we move into this season of Lent, a time for reflection, I am making a personal stand and a bold choice. With the love and support of my family, I’m stepping on to the path of a new adventure. With eyes wide, I’m excited, nervous and very ready.
Head held high, I’m taking my leap.
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“… And these children
that you spit on
as they try to change their worlds
are immune to your consultations.
They’re quite aware
of what they’re going through…”
Those are the lyrics staring you in the face at the beginning of The Breakfast Club, one of the greatest movies ever made and the beginning of my journey, down the rabbit hole, into the world of David Bowie.
His new record, Blackstar, was one of our albums of choice this weekend. So, it was a surreal moment for me yesterday morning, standing in one of the industrial coolers in the school kitchen, holding a packet of ginger biscuits and talking with the head of catering that I learned of David Bowie’s death. I almost dropped the biscuits. How could we have spent the weekend listening to him and discussing his music and now he was gone?
With stars that shine so bright, we feel connected to them – as if we know them. And when we lose them it is like a part of ourselves is lost with them. Their music takes you right back to a car ride on the way to the beach, with the wind blowing through your hair; to the smell of low country pines in the air; to the last day of school when you buckled up and squealed out of the parking lot; to that oh so sweet first kiss; to laying in bed on a rainy day with the music turned up to eleven.
David Bowie, Ziggy Stardust, The Thin White Duke, however you choose to remember him, there can be no doubt that he was such a varied talent. The music he wrote, the people he collaborated with, his acting roles – he was a North Star to those of us who are different, who live life on the outskirts, who fly our ‘freak-flags’ with pride. His lyrics spoke volumes.
I don’t have a singular favourite song as so many of his records have been influential in my life; from teenage angst to the need to break free and find my own adventures. I remember growing up, watching him as the Goblin King in Labyrinth and was totally scared to death of him as a kid, yet strangely drawn to him at the same time. He had that quality. He was an enigmatic figure, who will be missed. Yet we are blessed – his music, like Lazarus, rises up and lives on.
{Image: Craig & Karl}
Back to school today. I don’t think I’m ready. Nevertheless, here we go…
Quiet. Quiet is how I feel.
I have lost a loved one this festive season and it has made me simply crave quiet, to crave peace. Although, both are in short supply at the moment. I’ve not visited here, because I’ve had little to say. I’ve been lighting my candles, listening to music, baking bread, cooking, reading; just being.
It’s made me step back from the edge of the surging river, that is the holiday season. I love Christmas, it makes me sad that it is such a rush. There is too much hustle and bustle. When do we stop to take in the beauty of the season around us? To enjoy family and friends? Everything seems to be moving more and more to a harried finish line, where once crossed, we come out the other side dazed, dishevelled and confused, wondering what happened to Christmas in the first place?
Christmas is about being with the people you love, cherishing the time you have and being present in the moment. And that is exactly what I plan to do – to relish the quiet moments; to enjoy the noise of jovial voices and laughter; to find myself amongst all of it whole again.
The memories you make with those that you love are so very important. For it is memories that you are left with.
It’s been a week since I last posted here. First, it was because school was keeping me busy, but since Friday it’s been for different reasons.
I awoke on Saturday morning to Mr. Michie sharing what had happened in Paris with me and I cried. Since then, I’ve been glued to every shred of information I can read or watch about the #ParisAttacks.
I have started and restarted this post many times. Each time I have felt like I am scrambling in the dark – searching for the right words; desperately trying to process this terrible event.
I believe that events such as these encourage us to reflect, and while blogging can be a great way to do just that, I don’t like to use this space as a political platform. I have read other blogs over the past few days that have either been flippant about what has happened, or extremely visceral, voicing their tears and thoughts. I couldn’t be either, I only felt silent and heavy hearted.
I first visited Paris when I was 16 and fell in love. I knew that I would return and I did! I spent a wonderful long weekend there with my sister when I was in my early 20s. We walked the streets, visited galleries, found the greatest fondue restaurant and ate our weight in pastry.
I honeymooned with Mr. Michie in Paris; we drank wine and walked along the river. It is a place we have visited many times, throughout the seasons. We have favourite stores, favourite restaurants, favourite places to stroll or just sit. A visit to Angelina’s for hot chocolate is always a must. For a while, Paris became a second home to us. It still is.
To see the violence that was thrust upon this magical place made me sick. Sick to my very core.
But Paris is resilient. It always has been.
As I’ve walked around London this week, it is clear that things have changed. Everyone is on edge. People stop and watch police cars passing by; they listen to the sirens – jerked out of autopilot; they jump at sounds and sights that no one normally pays attention too. People are on edge, but they, like me, are trying to keep with their daily lives. To go on as if nothing has changed.
Even though we may all be a little more wary, a little more cautious, we will continue to live our lives. We will continue to go out, to shop, to laugh, to see friends, to enjoy time with those we hold most dear. We will appreciate the little things even more. We will hug a little tighter, kiss a little longer, and savour every single word breathed from the lips of those we love.
We will not be made to cower; our voices will not be silenced. For there is no where we should fear to tread.
We appreciate the value of life; the value of living that life to the full. And we will continue to look for the good in people, to not let evil shake our faith in humanity, for that will mean the terrorists have won.
Je suis Paris! Vive le France!
This has been quite a week so far and we’re only at Wednesday. There’s just so much to say but for now, I’ll just let Charlton Heston speak for me.
Our latest Copenhagen adventure was filled with long walks, delicious food, art and of course a trip to Tivoli. Everywhere we went, candles were lit and pumpkins glowed; it was so cozy. The weather was frosty, the air was brisk – it truly felt like fall.
Once again, we were awed by the magic of the park. It was entirely decked out for Halloween. Hay bales and pumpkins were everywhere! Rides had even been transformed for the festive season and each of the many restaurants were in on the act with their own ghostly decorations.
Little Halloween huts were dotted around, selling Halloween goodies; delicious food, hot chocolate and freshly fried doughnuts. I treated Mr. Michie to a hot dog (his favourite) and he bought me an adorable black satin witch’s hat to wear for Halloween.
Normally, we just stroll through the grounds and don’t go on the rides, but this time we bought tickets at a kiosk and went on the ‘Flying Trunk‘ ride, which is based around a collection of Hans Christian Andersen’s stories. It was adorable! This was my one blurry snap of The Little Mermaid:
As the sun went down and day turned to night, the lights slowly came on and scarecrow pumpkins glowed everywhere. Tivoli is such a magical place!
Mr. Michie and I headed back to our apartment filled with the spirit of Halloween.
This was my view last night as we flew back from our beloved Copenhagen to London. I’ve been quiet in this space the past few days, because I have been having too much fun. I’ll blog about it soon, there is so much I want to share!
Quiet. That is how I feel lately. Quiet. My family suffered another loss last weekend, this time of the four-legged kind. We lost an angel. I know that everyone feels this way about their pets, but this wasn’t a pet, this was a family member.
We got her just before Christmas when I was home from College and after the holidays, everyone went back to work and it was just me and her. We were buddies. We had almost 13 wonderful years with her.
On her punky days, the fur behind her ears smelled like popcorn. She was a people person, she preferred two legs to four. She was most content when you would just sit with her and she would often call break time when you were busy cleaning the house. Butting you in the leg with her head to tell you it was time to sit with her for a while.
She saved my dad’s life when he had pneumonia, she wouldn’t leave my mom’s side when she was unwell, you would physically have to carry her outside to go to the bathroom, because she refused to leave the room. She was always chief of security and would make her rounds to ensure everything was well. She loved candy. She loved laying in the sunshine, her long eyelashes resting on closed lids with her gentle little face turned to the sun as she sat sphinx style.
She loved children. She would sulk when suitcases came out and would often lie down inside them, daring you to start packing it. She loved visitors and hated when you left. She was so many things, but most of all she was a furry comfort, a four-legged friend. She had been through moves, deaths and births with us. She kept her wings hidden, but we knew they were there. She’s left her paw print on our hearts and for that we will forever be grateful. I’m reminded of this, which I shared long ago, but wanted to share again today, Lessons From Lucy.