All posts tagged: writing

Twenty Seventeen

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Two thousand and seventeen was a whirlwind; a beautiful mess of unpredictable, incredible, forgettable, indescribable, turbulent and transformational moments. I travelled to ten different cities, on nineteen planes and five trains and found myself changing with every crossing border. Looking back throughout this year, I have grown and changed and struggled and thrived, all at once and moments apart. I can barely remember the person I was at the beginning of the year or through the first few months. Only visual fragments can piece together such a time from which I have evolved from immensely. I made promises to myself that I both broke and kept, aspirations that I met and ran away from, all piecing together a year of contradictions and achievements, cold midnight skies and warm golden sunlight. It went so quickly that I kept a lot of it all to myself, photographs hidden in drawers and folders and half edits left untouched and unseen by the world; sharing it all mainly with myself. However, this coming year I want to share my …

Rosy Daydreams

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A string of words and collages crafted from feelings felt from a colour. Gazes overshadowed by rosy hues as the sky explodes with a multitude of mauve raindrops; a world is seen through shades of pink pigments. A vanilla sponge cake sheltered by pink fondant, saved till last with each slice, mixed together with the remains of jam delicately smothered on its porcelain plate. Or eaten first, by those that find pleasure in beginnings. Fresh pink wildflowers and elegant carnations picked on a sunrise stroll in the summer when the weightless breeze is waking up the leaves and the heartbeats of strangers that cross your path with sleepy smiles. Cushions filled with feathery metaphoric rose petals, pouring out allures of admiration into your dreams, filling them with shades of salmon, blush, champagne, rose and cherry blossoms. The colour of the glitter that laces your face, illuminated by the night and all of its stars in the form of lovers and far away lands pulling you into their mystical mumbles. Fresh figs and strawberries that stain …

Poem & Pictures from Warsaw

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After finishing my first year of university in Paris, the following two days were spent packing away my Parisian life and its belongings into three suitcases and a few bags, storing them away, eating sushi and wandering around Paris with a friend. Travelling was next on the agenda and i packed away my things to hop on a morning plane the next day to go to Berlin, Warsaw and London. Packing away all of my things for storage while i am away from Paris for the summer was a strange process. Realising the unimportance of so many of the items and clothes i owned and realising that if i were to lose a suitcase in the sea, the world wouldn’t stop spinning. But regardless, i packed it all up and went on my way. Berlin was a fast paced sum of events that were washed away with the rain that fell when we arrived. Tourist attractions, a breathtaking hotel, delicious meals and attending a memorable event for my dads work. A rushed array of little …

Being in my own world.

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As most nineteen year olds, and everyone else at some point in their lives, I’ve been terribly confused as to what I want to do for the rest of my life and have felt baffled at the question of who I actually am as a person and how I fit into the world. One thing I knew for sure was that I needed to be exploring my imagination and growing my creativity. But was never entirely sure how or if I was even good enough or capable to do so. But something I’ve only learnt recently, with the help of so many wonderful and kind souls, is that I don’t need to complicate life and myself so much. I just need to know that I am enough. Simple. I need to trust that the path I’m on, no matter how puzzling it all may seem, as it is leading me to where I need to be.  In recent days, I’ve found myself realising that the mundane and monotonous idealisations of reality is sometimes something that …

Autumn in Paris.

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Ambling amongst orange and yellow painted leaves, my third time in this beautiful city, I felt a deep connection once again. A motivation, an inspiration flowing through the breeze and a sense of serenity amidst the overly active minds of the beings around me.  As around every corner, there is a new place to explore, a new shade of green and a new opportunity to unearth a part of yourself that may have been buried under your former roots of existence Aesthetically aged buildings fill the city, with their grey painted roofs and little chimneys, each expelling their own memoirs, conversations and alluring concealed whispers tangled in between wisps of smoke. It’s neutral tones of beige, green, monochromes and browns added to the simplicity of the city, along with the elegant style that fills every pathway.  The view of the city from Arc du Triomphe was something I never thought my eyes would be able to see. The mist that filled the skies made it even more magical to experience. The roads were framed with overgrown broccoli …