Marvellous. I am one lucky kid.
– Yesterday, I spent some two hours sitting outside on the meadow in front of the house, fixing my bike, preparing for my oral Bachelor examination (which is tomorrow – I am slightly nervous) and waiting for C . At some point, I became aware of a pretty butterfly making its rounds and flying really close to me a few times. Then it decided to sit down on my shoe – making me lean back sloooowly and caaarefully to try and get a hold of my camera without scaring it away. I succeeded!
Later, it turned out there were actually two butterflies and they were making love or wanted to at least, chasing each other through the air in circles, soaring higher and higher with each new round.
In the course of the following hour or so, one of them recurringly returned to me. At some times, rocketing towards me at high speed and steering clear of me in the last moment – at other times, actually resting on me for some seconds. What an exhilarating feeling to be appreciated by such a pretty thing.
It took a few hundred shots (or so it feels), but finally, I managed to catch both of us on a single photo. The result can be seen in the About-section. Hooray! o/
– Today, C. said that he associates me with soap bubbles and butterflies. They are necessarily connected with me. Such a SOSOSOSO awesome thing to be told!
Lucky that frogs aren’t like humans.
– This is from this webcomic I adore, Pictures for Sad Children. Very weird, bewildering, funny, and, at times, sad (now who would have thought). Will be posting more of my favourites in the future.
<dives into the pond, creeps behind the frog, gently embraces it and whispers soothing words into its ear>
(do frogs have ears?)
– Taken in Duisburg, Germany on Christmas day 2010. I went for a walk to the rhine park with my Dad, stumbling through ankle-high snow all the way because there usually isn’t that much snow around there.
The bridge is one of the 7 bridges of Duisburg that go over the river Rhine. It has quite a history (sorry, German only) – it has first been built in 1873, but has been destroyed and rebuilt a few times since then. Today, it’s used by regional trains, pedestrians and cyclists. I remember that walking across it feels somewhat scary because the path is right next to the train tracks, and when a train passes while you are walking across, everything shakes and is incredibly loud and I can never help but think that all the metal pieces surely must fall apart any second.
In the background, there are some typical landmarks of Duisburg, that is factory chimneys.
I like this shot because it shows natural beauty together with Duisburg’s industrial personality. It feels pretty, and honest.
Wherever you are on this earth, there are always pretty sunsets. (I think)
So here’s what I worked with yesterday:
… yeps. That’s some serious French linen thread for you non-Frenchies out there. This particular spool of thread is very dear to me because I bought it in a cosy little needlework store in a side lane in the historic centre of Grasse, Provence, Southern France, a few years ago. It was run by two chubby old women, and they had all kinds of fantastic needle work things – lots of colourful buttons and laces and threads in all sorts of colours and fabrics and whatnot. The image feels like it could’ve been taken from a book or a story, perhaps. Also, it smells of lavender, as does nearly everything in the self-proclaimed world capital of perfume. I’ll look through photos from my trips to Grasse and post the most interesting ones some other day.
I sew these memories into my stuff whenever I use this thread.
Yesterday, I used it to fix a tearing in my pannier, and then decided I might as well add a few stitches to my rainbow cotton bag, where the straps meet the bag, to keep it from tearing when I use it to carry lots of heavy stuff. Books or yummy fruit juice, for example. Turns out once more that I suck at sewing, but I had fun.
Something French goes as soundtrack with this: La Veilée by Yann Tiersen which I found on the incredibly cheesy but very pleasing Vive La Chanson CD I bought out of a mood some years ago.
And no horizon can sleep
But sometimes horizons can close their eyes
And drift into one moment somewhere
The distance and a dream
Alone I stand, alone I fall
There is no option anymore
Alone with you
I know my point of view seems sad
I believe it’s not so bad
Alone with you
[The Cat Empire – No mountain]
– Been listening to today’s song pretty many times today, totally fits. It feels like a very positive thought to me – It means that I like you very much and feel good in your presence. Ultimately everything might still just boil down to me and who I honestly am, and it might turn out you don’t like me as much as you thought you did as you get to know me better, and our ways might part. But in that case it’s not my problem – it’s yours. And then it’s okay.
– Taken in June 2011. Probably one of the most beautiful views I’ve seen from my window these past three years, and likely to be one of my very favourites!
I should be spending my time studying, preparing for the final Bachelor exams in July, yet here I am and I haven’t touched any of the uni books today. Instead, I am drawing while chatting with A., K. and N. and listening to music. It’s rather rare that N. and me are online at the same time, and I don’t feel calm enough to draw quite often lately, but right now I do. So whatever! Damn you books! You will still be here tomorrow.
Thanks to N. for for the title of this post : )
– N. said he imagined me standing with my hands on my hips going like ‘tädää’ when I logged on, like a manga character. That’s how I imagined him imagining me!
It reads “Here I am! Any questions left?!”
– Taken in September 2010 in a dense forest in Skultuna, Sweden during my work experience at the local school. I was running up a steeply rising, overgrown trail with two boys from 8th class during one of the physical education lessons where they did orienteering. I stopped for a second to take a shot of this beautiful kind of moss that was almost everywhere in that forest. Then I put on my rocket turbo to catch up with the two kids leading the way ahead of me – one of them regularly did orienteering as a hobby, and they wanted us to be the first team at the finish line. (We were.)