As I am writing here, rain has returned to the bay. Hills over my shoulder are sleeping, tucked in fog and cloud. This time every year my mind becomes overactive, and creatively wanders on muddy paths, jumps in puddles, rescues fallen leaves, wipes off raindrops on the blurry windows of nostalgia, whispers to the rose bushes, hugs a sad tree, and opens up the refrigerator door multiple times to get some food for thoughts. Continue reading “Petrichor, once more”
When I was in my twenties, my life felt like someone’s unending wedding party that I had to attend- joyful but stretchy. Continue reading “Temporary”
“Whatever is rejected from the self, appears in the world as an event.”
― C.G. Jung
Continue reading “A Facebook Story ( Part I.)”
My baby spreading arms
trying to hug bougainvillea leaves.
Pink is her sunshine.
Spring is her garden. Continue reading “Silence is this afternoon”
See how the green smiled at the morning,
green, that happy thing, Continue reading “Spring”
“Just as a painter needs light in order to put the finishing touches to his picture, so I need an inner light, which I feel I never have enough of in the autumn.” – Tolstoy
There’s nothing like staying home on a cold Friday afternoon, making a cup of tea and reading the last a few pages of the book while soaking in the sun. Continue reading “In the light, in the shades”
A morning is never wounded. Continue reading “Morning”
“Happiness is an allegory, unhappiness a story.” ― Leo Tolstoy
After a hike in the hill, capturing a resting bird is a cherry on top, or in other words, ultimate happiness. Continue reading “Like a cherry on top”
Under my bare feet
raindrops, mud, then
first green grass.
Have you even been
touched by love? Continue reading “May”
It was the night of a year-end. We were on the road in San Francisco, showing a New Yorker friend this city in night. Between the ocean and the sky there was no gap- they both were tucked in a blanket of fog. The city was so silent that we could hear our breath.
Continue reading “Youth: A note”