My spirit is exhausted.

A beautiful sentence that I found in a museum.

The lone takeout box.

An spacious alleyway is much more fun than a crowded asian night market.

Fake but pretty.

I love the fonts on these records.

Trying on hats from "a long time ago"  - but this just happens to look like my regular hat.

Probably the best part of the museum.

The whole point of me writing.

I hope my blog does this for you. 

Did I just get a private tour of the Kodak Theatre and stand on it's stage?  YES I DID. 

I felt this way last week, I felt so exhausted, so confined. I could say that I was tired, walking more than usual and that I wasn't waking up very well. Nevertheless, I shouldn't be complaining, I had a very very eventful month, filled with old and new friends, events and places that I never imagined I could be. Perhaps my spirit is exhausted for a multitude of reasons for now I will not openly disclose.
Let the green glass shine.


Every morning the muted sunshine gently whispers and asks if he can help me rise to the occasion. He nudges my dreams and patiently waits for me to wake. Sometimes I purposely ignore him, so I can feel his warmth linger.  Seconds seemingly suspended, time asleep, and drowsiness overcomes. He waits.

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I'm sorry honey, but all I got is 26 letters to show you how much I love you.

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The other day my friend and I were talking about love letters. She very very kindly told me that my most recent post inspired her to write! (Thanks Linh!) She let me read her love letter she wrote for a boy and I liked it very much. It had hyphens, exclamation marks, cleverly constructed sentences and lastly her signature.

My aunt once told me that she met her husband when she first immigrated to London but then he had to return to Hong Kong. He loved her. He loved her so much that he wrote to her constantly. I want to say "everyday" but that would probably be me making that up. But can you imagine? How much he spilled into those letters? She kept them all and when she told me that story you can tell they were still in love. Her eyes glimmered young while her appearance told me otherwise. I whole heartedly believe in love letters. Would you dare say that the notion of falling in love with someone over a single written sentence is ridiculous?

Then call me ridiculous. 

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I wonder if I can get someone to draw my sentences.

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Revisiting idleness.

via my friend Elliot via Sven Birkets:

Idleness is what supervenes on those too few occasions when we allow our pace to slacken and merge with the rhythms of the natural day, when we manage to thwart the impulse to plan forward to the next thing and instead look—idly, with nascent curiosity—at what is immediately in front of us.