Crystalline Moment

I spent my Sunday morning sitting at my desk with sunlight coming in my window and mums in a vase beside me, drinking new kinds of tea, eating strawberries, reading poetry (assigned poetry, but poetry nonetheless) and listening to Edith Piaf. It was lovely. I was productive this weekend on the homework front, but I just kind of took things slowly. I feel like I was just recharging my soul before heading into the next couple of weeks. They are the kind of weeks where there is nothing for it except to take a deep breath, brace yourself and dive in head first. But this morning was a lovely respite from the frustrations of my life last week and the impending challenges of my life this week. I actually felt calm, a rare sensation for me, and as if I had the space to simply breathe. It was this perfect, crystalline moment. Hours wrapped up in a bubble and suspended in the midst of an otherwise unpleasant scene.

The City of Lights

For months now I have been longing to go back to Paris. This is unusual for me. As beautiful as Paris is I don't usually long to go back. Budapest, yes. Dublin, yes. Cape Breton, yes. Victoria, yes. Paris, not usually. I love perusing my pictures from the few days I was there years ago. Paris is a particularly photogenic city and looks beautiful in black and white, which immediately makes me a fan. I love the sound of the French language. It's beautiful and melodic and I wish I had the time to invest in learning more of it. Despite all of this though, Paris is not usually the top of my dream destination list, but it has been for a while now. I can't explain why, but I'm okay with it. Perhaps it is simply my tendency to surround myself with beauty which is drawing me to this city lately. Perhaps it is simply a coincidental alignment of circumstances that has me encountering things that suggest Paris to me. Who knows? Regardless, I would love to return. I want to wander under the Arc de Triumph at dusk. I want to see the Eiffel Tower lit up at night. I want to wander through the Louvre for hours on end. I want to take photos of the incredible architecture. I want to stroll along Parisian streets. I want to sit in a sidewalk cafe with a good friend.

Since I don't have the funds for such a trip right now and am currently in the midst of my semester I am contenting myself with the photography of passage d'enfer, living vicariously through Haleigh of Making Magique and inundating you all with posts featuring pictures from Paris (like this and this).

This photo is probably one of my favourite shots from Paris (although to be honest it is hard to narrow it down). I actually had this published in the school's annual arts publication when I was a freshman. The evening we took this walk through Paris was spectacular. This shot was one of those moments where the stars align and everything comes into place. The lighting, the movement of the cars, the bikes about to cross the street, everything came together to produce an image that I simply adore.

On Edge

On the edge of tears.

On the edge of sanity.

On the edge.

I've been wandering around today with this sharpness in my mind. Frustrated. Tired. Stressed. Just on edge.

Meet Prince Froggie

I would like to introduce you all to my little green friend Prince Froggie. He actually belongs to Gabby, but since she and I have been roommates for almost 4 years now, Froggie and I have been co-habitating for quite some time. I watch him in the summers when Gabby goes home. The past couple days my newly acquired orthodontics have been ranging from uncomfortable to downright painful, so Gabby kindly let me borrow Froggie to hug and complain to. He is an excellent listener.

Sight of Rain

It rained this morning. In January. In Edmonton. This is not normal. But it was somehow exactly what I needed. I woke up to the sound of rain on my window and thought "This is weird. It sounds like spring." In a weird way though it gave me exactly what I needed: a shock. I have reached that point in the year where I am just done with the whole idea of winter and yet, being a hardened Edmontonian, I am well aware that I have at least another 2 or 3 months of this to look forward to. So the rain was refreshing. Even if it did turn the city into a giant skating rink this morning. It forced me to stop and take a step back, to look at the world in a new way, even if it was just for a second. And I needed that.

The whole world is moving, but I'm standing still

Lately I've been feeling the need to move. It is this overwhelming feeling that something in my life is going to change and as much as this scares the living daylights out of me sometimes, it also excites me. Sometimes I feel like my life is simply stagnant and I hate this sensation. The other day Audrey said to me, "I guess maybe I want to feel like I am going somewhere every day, you know?" And I do. It frustrates me when I don't feel like I'm moving or going somewhere, and I guess that's how I've been feeling for the past week or so. Like all of the potential paths that I had to walk down have suddenly disappeared. Perhaps I only imagined them in the first place, maybe they were never real. Maybe I was always just stuck here, waiting for something to change.

I just started following this tumblr called Passage d'Enfer. It's the 35mm photography of this guy who lives in Paris, and is really fantastic. As I've been looking through his photos of Paris with snow I keep thinking to myself, "If I have to endure winter, why am I not doing so in Paris?" I mean, seriously. I could at least be somewhere that the snow looks pretty. A couple of days ago I wrote about the fact that I like taking black and white photos from the windows of moving vehicles. This picture is what started this interest. I took this while in Paris several years ago, and it is one of my favourite shots from that trip. It's the sense of perpetual motion that entrances me.

Ten Things...With a little bit of pixie dust

I've been writing a lot these past few months about magic, wishes and fairies. Since this is so obviously where my head is at, I figured it was a good topic for this week's Ten Things. Enjoy!

1. Fairies, Feys and Sprites
2. Let the Rain
3. If you can't wish, why bother?
4. Feeling Dancey
5. Enchanted
6. Once upon a time...
7. Crunchy Autumn Leaves
8. When is this hoodoo going to end?
9. Birthday Wishes
10. Bring on the magic

If you can't wish, why bother?

"The Adams and Eves used to say, We are what we eat, but I prefer to say, We are what we wish. Because if you can't wish, why bother?" -- Margaret Atwood, The Year of the Flood

If you can laugh, you're still alive. You haven't given up yet. -- Margaret Atwood 

I finished reading Margaret Atwood's The Year of the Flood today. I have this strange experience whenever I read an Atwood book though: when I finish reading I immediately have the urge to throw the book across the room. Seriously. Every time. It's the lack of a conclusion. I realize that this is intentional, that it is a post-modern technique, that it serves to draw attention to the fact that it is indeed a story, that it forces readers to not only be complicit in the creation of the story, but to realize that they have been complicit all along, but it still drives me nuts. You just want it all to work out. Or not work out. I'm not picky either way, I just want an ending. All that is not to say that the books aren't brilliant. I genuinely enjoy Atwood's books. They are challenging and provocative. They are also highly entertaining. I get sucked into the stories and invested in the characters. In fact, I enjoy her writing so much that I'm actually taking a whole directed studies course on it this semester. The Year of the Flood is brilliant. Especially if you have already read Oryx and Crake. Atwood has an incredible ability to pick out the trends in the world today and push them to their most ghastly extremes. The worlds she creates blow me away. This quote struck me though. In the midst of what is possibly the most dystopic world possible, there is suddenly this glimmer of...what? Hope? Human endurance? Promise? I'm not quite sure what the right word is, but the quote struck me. It reminded me of a quote I ran across a couple years ago when I was doing research for a paper on Oryx and Crake. Atwood was talking about the humour in the book, which is dark and doomsday-ish. There is something deep here, something that resonates in my life. The darkest times in my life have been times when I don't even have the ability to wish for something different. They were also the times when laughter is a foreign concept. Wishes and laughter. There is something here. Something that my mind is now mulling over.

This picture admittedly seems as if it has nothing to do with this post. However, there are two reasons I chose it. First, whenever I think of wishes or magic I think of light and sparkle. Second, it is actually a picture from the fireworks display in Disneyland, and Disney is intimately connected with the concept of wishes.

Klutz

There is something you should know about me: I am a klutz. Not in the spectacular-accidents, land-myself-in-the-hospital way, but in small ways. I walk into walls and doors on a regular basis. I trip while walking on flat surfaces. I smash my shins on furniture almost daily. I nick my hands so often that I usually don't even realize it until I look down at my hand (often in class) only to find a bloody cut. This is just such a fact of life for me that I pretty much don't even think about it any more. However, this week I was reminded of my klutzy-ness in a big way: I burned my hands several times. So, word to the wise, don't pick up a hot iron by the metal plate, don't grab a hair straightener that is on even if it going to fall, don't try to move a muffin tin that has just come out of the oven with your bare hands, don't kick a running space heater, don't grab the outside of a metal kettle and don't pour boiling water on yourself. Yeah, I did all of those things this week. It's actually ridiculous.

No, this picture has nothing to do with being a klutz. I really like it though. I am a big fan of taking black and white pictures from moving vehicles. There is something about the motion and the lack of clarity that intrigues me. I think it is the sense of going somewhere that the resulting images exude that fascinates me so much.

l'esprit d'escalier

l'esprit d'escalier (idiomatic expression) [French]
the feeling you get after leaving a conversation, when you think of all the things you should have said

I love learning idiomatic expressions in other languages. Sometimes they are just plain funny, like the French expression for butchering the French language: "vous parlez français comme une vache espagnole" (literally: you speak French like a Spanish cow). Sometimes they manage to capture a greater meaning than English can, like the Italian expression for a close friend: "un'amica stretta" (with "stretta" literally meaning "tight" like "tight clothing"). Sometimes they simply provide a way to say something that can't be said in English. I love English, but it is by no means an all-sufficient language. This is the case with "l'esprit d'escalier". Literally translated it means "the spirit of stairs". I am not really sure that this is enlightening, but the French phrase is so perfect right now. The number of times I have experienced this the past couple of days is remarkable. Generally the fact that I can't explain this sensation just adds to my frustration. So, even if I can't stop being the world's most awkward conversationalist, now I at least have a name for what I'm feeling when I get home.

This is not at all the picture I was hoping for. I have a serious lack of stair photos and the apartment stairwell has lighting that is akin to public bathrooms and school gymnasiums, photography just should not be attempted in these situations. This picture was pretty blah, so I edited it up, fiddling with colours, highlights and shadows until I got something that at least looks cool, even if it isn't what I had envisioned.

Connections

I walk into the office for the first time on Monday and she immediately greets me with "Breanna! I missed you!" She says it with genuine feeling, so much so that I almost burst into tears. It has only been two days, a weekend, since we last saw each other, but I had found myself missing her too. To be greeted with a return of this sentiment is almost too much for my already bursting heart to handle. 

For the first time in a long time I feel like I am actually connected to someone. Our friendship is still relatively new, but it has rapidly become my lifeline. A friendship characterized by laughter and tears, ridiculous moments and meaningful conversations. Something I would not give up for anything.

As I sit at my desk listening to her explain how on Sunday night she just wanted me around in some capacity, to be online or to update my blog, a wave of gratefulness washes over my soul. And I realize something, something simple, but deeply meaningful to me: I have made a friend.

Oddball

Even though she knew it was probably a sign of insanity to begin identifying with inanimate objects, she couldn't help but feel that the strange little bud she had come across was the perfect image for her life. This tiny, alien-looking thing somehow seemed to encapsulate her life in that moment. Odd colours, a strange shape, hard, almost harsh, confusing and seemingly impenetrable. Yes, that described her life. Especially the weirdness of it. Her life wasn't sitting with her as if it were her own. It was like one day she woke up and walked into someone else's life. Sure, it resembled her's, but it felt odd. Like a new shirt that didn't fit quite right. Actually, more like wearing someone else's clothes: completely unfamiliar. She knew they were clothes, and she knew she had worn clothes before, and yet there was something strange about these particular clothes. It was like the bud. She knew it was a flower bud, and she had seen flower buds before, it was just this particular bud that was so different that she didn't quite know what to do with it. And yet this oddball creation that was silently confronting her was beautiful in a striking way. Full of potential. Perhaps that was what made it so beautiful, not the shape that it was currently in, but the shape that it would become. Perhaps that was where the beauty in her life could also be found, not in the strange, unfamiliar, cumbersome shape it had taken on recently, but in the potential for what that shape would become.

Ten Things...Beginnings

What with the start of a new year and a new semester, my birthday and the looming change indicated by graduation I've been thinking a lot about beginnings lately. So, here's this week's Ten Things, all about beginnings in various forms.

1. To Make Love Necessary
2. The Sensation of Art
3. Enchanted
4. Happy New Year!
5. Fresh Perspective
6. Where It All Began
7. It's the most wonderful time of the year
8. New Beginnings
9. Welcome Old Friend
10. Waiting for Love to be Born

Enchanted

I am not normally one for New Year's resolutions. They seem pointless in many ways. Unless I really want something it isn't going to happen regardless of whether I put it on some list on January 1. This year though was a little bit different. This year I resolved to look for and cherish beauty, to surround myself with things that are lovely. Or, rather, I decided to continue to do so in a more deliberate manner. This all started some time in the summer, I think it was with the decision to paint my room, and is something I firmly believe I have been growing into the past few months. Where I was at this summer I don't think I could have simply decided to live this way and stuck to it. It was a journey I needed to start before I could come to this place of deliberate searching. Let me tell you, looking at the world this way is truly wonderful. I'm not saying this is always how I look at things. I'm naturally a glass-half-empty kind of person, so it's a struggle, but I'm making a profound effort to find things in every day that resonate with me, that inspire me, that make me smile. I find myself using words like "magic," "enchanting," "lovely" and "beautiful" far more often than I ever have before. And I like it.

A frozen pond and a metal blade

Tonight I realized that I haven't been skating this winter. By no means am I a good skater, in fact I look like a total fool most of the time, but I really enjoy it and usually try to go at least once a year. But I haven't been yet this year. I think I need to remedy this situation sometime soon. Now before you start thinking I'm crazier than I actually am, this realization was actually prompted by something, specifically the snow. It's snowing again, and while we certainly don't need any more snow it was so pretty when I was walking back from work that I couldn't be annoyed about it. It was the perfect Hollywood, giant flakes, take a walk with your lover kind of snow. I normally hate snow. But for this kind of snow I can make an exception. It is truly lovely. And I thought to myself, "Wouldn't it be the sweetest date ever to go skating in this kind of snow?" And then suddenly I realized I haven't been skating this year. So, I bring you a picture from a few years ago when some of my friends from school came skating with me on my birthday. It was lovely. No snow, but a beautiful sunny day. One of those rare days where the presence of the sun doesn't actually mean that it is freezing cold outside. I think this is a phenomenon only understood by people who live on the prairies. At least Gabby, who is from Ontario, is still a bit baffled by it. Out here, when it is winter and you look outside to see blue sky and sunshine, you brace yourself for frigid weather, so the fact that it was sunny and warm enough to enjoy ourselves on the outdoor rink was quite remarkable. We stayed out there until the sun set (which in this part of the world is pretty early in the winter) and the way it cast its last few rays across the ice was gorgeous.


Wow, that was a random post. My mind makes strange connections sometimes. I hope you don't mind when the posts are less than organized. Sometimes that is just how I roll.

Birthday Wishes

Today was my birthday. And it was truly lovely. Simple and quiet, but filled with wonderful moments and expressions of love from people I hold quite dear. It was a beautiful day, and I would like to thank those of you who played a part in making it that way.

Those of you who know me know that my diet is more restricting than a set of full body Spanx, so you won't be surprised that I didn't have a birthday cake and candles on which to make a wish. Regardless, with birthdays inevitably comes the desire for a little bit of magic. Wish one: I wish I could be eating the dessert in this picture. Or really any dessert for that matter. Sadly, that will not be a wish that comes true. At least I have some good food art to drool over. Wish two: I wish I could figure out what I am doing next year. And you know what? Over coffee with Bean, I think I came to a conclusion (well, a 95% certain conclusion anyway, which for me is pretty impressive). I like the feeling of the daunting, shapeless mass of the future beginning to take shape. I'm not sharing my plans with just anyone yet because I always feel foolish if I change my mind at some point (although if you are really curious you can ask). I promise to keep you updated as things solidify further though. Wish three: I wish...well, this one hasn't happened, but I'm still holding out hope. I'm feeling like there is a bit of birthday magic still kicking around in the air and am hoping it pans out. As such, I am going to stay mum on it (although I am sure at least two of you know what it is) due to the superstition that you shouldn't tell someone your birthday wish.

Twenty-two seems like a good age. I'm (cautiously) excited for it.

Once upon a time...

There was a little girl who wanted nothing more than to be grown up.

Well, this little girl, like all other little girls and boys, got this one wish. Once she did though, she didn't want it so much. Such is often the case with wishes. She realized that all of the freedom she had thought she would get when she finally became a grown up came with a caveat: she had to take responsibility. For everything. No one told her what to do any more, so she had to make every decision. She was the only one at fault. And along with this realization came another: being a grown up might look easy to a kid, but life is complicated. While this complexity is good, and is one of the things that makes it life, it can also be trying.

Sometimes she wished she could go back to a time when her biggest concern was the fact that she was terrified of the monkey bars.

Something's Coming

Something's Coming

from West Side Story

Could be

Who knows?

There's something due any day;

I will know right away,

Soon as it shows.

It may come cannonballing down through the sky,

Gleam in its eye,

Bright as a rose!

Who knows?

It's only just out of reach,

Down the block, on a beach,

Under a tree.

I got a feeling there's a miracle due,

Gonna come true,

Coming to me!

Could it be? Yes, it could.

Something's coming, something good,

If I can wait!

Something's coming, I don't know what it is,

But it is

Gonna be great!

With a click, with a shock,

Phone'll jingle, door'll knock,

Open the latch!

Something's coming, don't know when, but it's soon;

Catch the moon,

One-handed catch!

Around the corner,

Or whistling down the river,

Come on, deliver

To me!

Will it be? Yes, it will.

Maybe just by holding still,

It'll be there!

Come on, something, come on in, don't be shy,

Meet a guy,

Pull up a chair!

The air is humming,

And something great is coming!

Who knows?

It's only just out of reach,

Down the block, on a beach,

Maybe tonight...

I finally talked to Audrey a bit today. It was just a few text messages back and forth, but I've been missing her something fierce lately so it was good to hear from her. Plus, somehow, regardless of the physical distance between us, we always seem to be going through similar places emotionally. It's actually kind of eerie if you think about it too long, but it is one of the things that I value most about our friendship. No matter what I say to her she will understand. She never tells me I'm crazy. She always simply understands and relates. It's a good feeling to be that throughly understood by someone. We were talking about how we both have this sense heading into the new year that something fabulous is going to happen. We have no idea what, but there is just a sense that something is going to happen. It's nice. It's exciting. It's a good change from my typically not-so-sunshiney approach to the new year. And yet... There is something frustrating about this feeling. If I could just figure out what it was that was going to happen I could anticipate it. Or, if it would just happen already then maybe the whole year could be fantastic, feeding off of this one event. I'm feeling a bit like I'm standing on the edge of a cliff. With school coming to an end this is a very real sensation in many ways. I just don't know what is coming next. And even though I have the sense that it is going to be good, I am terrified out of my mind.

Audrey explained this feeling of anticipation by referring to this song from West Side Story. Now, you should know that she and I are both musical theatre junkies. I'm seriously addicted to the stuff. Anyway, it was exactly what I needed. It reminds me a bit of the magical, exciting, anticipatory side of this experience, rather than the dark, scary, looming doom side of it. Plus, I think this provides a nice counterpoint to yesterday's slightly less hopeful (although no less truthful) post.

Held Water

Held Water
Patrick Lane

I have discovered I cannot bear to be
with people anymore. Even the querulous love of old friends
defeats me and I turn away, my face staring
at the hard sleet
scraping at what little is left of the trees
in early spring. The bellied pods of the wisteria hold
my face, upside down
in minute mirrors of held water. Ice falls from the eaves.
The telephone rings and like a monk I chant to myself
the many names of whatever gods I can find
in the temple bells of the hidden voices. I know
under the rotting snow there are small flowers
like insistent girls giggling in narrow attic beds,
and yes,
I know the flowers are not girls, just as
I know what resemblance there is
is lost in the ordinary crying
we think we will release and don't.
The furred pods of the wisteria crack open
dropping the mirrors from their blue hands.
I ce slides from the roof and for a moment the air is torn.
If I wasn't afraid
I could play back the sounds of my friends,
the measure of their voices
almost steady in the hard wind out of the north.
Little flawed bells.
If I didn't hear them I could almost listen.


Sometimes this is exactly how I feel.

This poem is one of the ones that I have on my wall. I sincerely enjoy Patrick Lane's poetry, although I am relatively new to it and therefore can't give a comprehensive opinion. What I have read though is truly lovely. When I was flipping through my photos the other day I came across this one and my brain instantly paired it with this particular poem.

Ten Things...A Single Place

One of the problems I face in trying to get as much photography time in as possible and also being a student with a part-time job is the inability to get to new and exciting places to shoot. There just isn't a lot of time in my schedule for excursions. I wish I did. Hopefully that is something I can change once I'm done this semester. Because I go to so few locations I often feel like I'm recycling images or showing a bunch of photos that are really similar. One of the nice things that this blog has enabled me to do is see just how many places the photos from a single location can take me. The number of ways to view the images from a single place is actually rather astonishing. For example, here are ten very different posts featuring pictures from Fort Edmonton Park:

1. Alias Grace
2. Childhood Memories
3. Now I'm hunched over a typewriter
4. Exuberance is beauty
5. Well, there ain't no strangers
6. Playing Games
7. It is worth our while just to be living
8. Daydreams of Sunshine
9. Luggage or Baggage?
10. I just want to DANCE

To Make Love Necessary

I know I must honour Athos's lessons, especially one: to make love necessary. -- Fugitive Pieces, Anne Michaels 

There is no safe investment. To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will certainly be wrung, and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in a casket or coffin of your own selfishness. But in that casket - safe, dark, motionless, airless - it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable. -- C.S. Lewis

Every so often I find that there is a topic that comes up in my life over and over again. This semester one of the topics we discussed in Psyc-Lit was the connection between vulnerability and love. It came up in at least three of the texts we discussed, including Fugitive Pieces which I adore, and I wrote two papers on this idea. It's something that has been popping up in my personal life too. I've been doing some serious thinking about the state of my heart and how I treat it. Then awhile ago one of my friends posted some lyrics from The Frozen Ocean's "In the Garden" as his Facebook status. This reminded me how much I really like The Frozen Ocean and sent me searching through my iTunes for their music and then listening to it over and over again. One of their songs, "Lost at Sea", starts with a reading of this quote from C.S. Lewis. I've been having some deep conversations with a girl who is quickly becoming one of my dearest friends, the kind of conversations that require trust from both parties. One of the things that she pointed out to me not so long ago is that one of the themes that seems to be emerging in my life is "make love necessary". It's true too. If I had to choose some touchstone words for my life as I head into 2011 I think they would be "love", "balance", "vulnerability" and "beauty". I like to think that when something keeps popping up in your life over and over again it is something you should probably do some serious thinking about. So I am. Just thought I would let you know that.

Misfit

Do you ever suddenly get struck by the feeling that you just do not belong where you are in your life? Tonight I was suddenly overwhelmed by this feeling. I have this picture of what I want my life to be like, I just have no idea how to get from here to there. In fact, so much of getting to that place depends on other people (obviously a factor beyond my control) that I often wonder if there even is anything I can do to shape my life into what I long for. There must be though. There has to be. If there wasn't why would I be hit with these sudden waves of frustration? It feels like I am trying to jam myself into a space that I simply don't fit into. I am not a patient person, and change takes time, so instead I just feel frustrated and desperate, as if my life will never change, as if I will never get where I want to go. Sorry about the not-so-sunny quality of this post. This is just raw emotion that I am trying to process right now.

I feel like this baby tree growing right beside our garage. He is surrounded by leaves from deciduous trees and yet he is a conifer. Not to say that I am not surrounded by people I love, because I am, or that I am not surrounded by people who I identify with, because for the first time in a long time I feel like I am, but just that sometimes I look around myself and feel profoundly isolated and alone. Moreover, this little guy is growing right beside our garage. And I mean RIGHT BESIDE. He shouldn't be there. And sometimes I wonder if I am where I should be. Sometimes I know I am, but sometimes I wonder.

Inspired by...

One of the things I have been occupying my free time with lately is catching up on a lot of my favourite blogs. I have several that I adore and will read daily. Even when I'm really busy I try to make room for a few of my favourites because they bring some beauty and inspiration to my day and that is something that I need just so I can continue to function. I feed off of beauty. As much as I can be a Negative Nancy, I truly do try and find at least one thing every day that makes me laugh or smile, something beautiful or amusing, even if it is just something tiny. Often as I'm perusing the blogosphere I will come across something that inspires me, something I find thought-provoking or intriguing or uplifting or just plain gorgeous. Sometimes these things turn into posts on this blog, but more often than not there isn't really a way to translate whatever I've seen into a post. Or I would need to go out and take some very specific pictures before it could appear on here. Plus, I'm often struck by other photography I come across and this blog just isn't a forum for that kind of thing. This phenomenon, and a desire to create a place that I myself could turn to when I'm feeling low on inspiration, led me to start a tumblr a couple weeks ago. If you ever wonder what it is that I find inspirational, check it out. It's really just a collection of random things that I find lovely.

One of the recurring themes in the pictures that I've been posting on the tumblr lately has been sunshine and glass, so I thought this picture that I took on Christmas Day was appropriate for this post.