His Eyes

His eyes see me. Look through me, they search me and find me. They feel me and caress me. I taste their saltiness on the tip of my eyelashes. His eyes call me and sing to me ancients rhythms of love and fire. They pierce my soul and drink my essence. There is no hiding from them. And what would be the point? I want them to see me, and hold me and love me. They recognize me from a thousand others. For centuries, we have been dancing together among the stars and on Earth. I belong to them and they know only me. Forever and always through eternity. His eyes are soft and loving. My inner light guides their way in the dark, gives them the reason of seeing. Fuels them the love they’re seeking. Bookmark on Delicious Digg this post Recommend on Facebook Buzz it up S

“Be My Valentine” with an original twist

“Be My Valentine” with an original twist

Chocolate, balloon hearts and flowers…these are all the norm on Valentine’s Day. And they are all thoughtful gifts, but a bit on the lazy side, if you ask me. For those of you who want to move away from the cliché side of things, here’s a more personal, unique and meaningful way to declare your love to your better half:     drum rolls….   the #Tweetheart campaign Notonthehighstreet.com invites YOU to tweet a romantic message (or comment on the notonthehighstreet.com Facebook page) using the #Tweetheart tag, along with your declaration of love. Notonthehighstreet.com will select five messages to bring to life with teams of musicians and artists in London. Just to make it that bit more special, each message will be tailored...

Life-Aroma Cigarette

Life-Aroma Cigarette

  I am hanging out at my friends’ eatery, lounging carelessly on the back decked private porch, rejoicing in the privilege of being between hawk and buzzard. It’s almost midnight and the thermometer doesn’t budge from 32 degrees Celsius. The city buzzes like in plain daylight, with many finding refuge in places such as this. We’re all running away from torrid homes and burning mattresses. Sitting next to me at the wooden table are the four owners of the restaurant – two sisters and their husbands, my longtime friend who’s come home for a short visit from Brazil, and another brunette, a friend of the owners. Jumping around – as if oblivious to the heat that makes everybody else huff and puff – Zara, one of the family’s five year-old...

He & I

He & I

He is a Capricorn. I am a Taurus. His sign verb is “to organize”. Mine is “to have”. Love, stubbornness, a passion for travelling and reading are some of the things that tie us. And then there are the differences. He is chilled about life and takes everything with a grain of salt and with a smile. I am, many times, neurotic and panicky about losing control of things. Worrying about little things, big things, worrying about things that haven’t even happened yet. He loves his coffee black and strong. I gave up coffee because I was drinking it too milky & sweet. He always has a glass of wine at dinner and he constantly complains about me not having any. One of his greatest complaints about our relationship is that I don’t like wine, or alcohol for...

Whitehall Court

The Whitehall Court stands proud against the lead-like sky. From a distance it seems straight out of a Disney fairytale, a suggestive handcrafted canvas rather than a real frame of the live film unfolding before my eyes from across the river, on Southbank. With its spires and turrets, it is an architectural jewel thrown amidst the modernist buildings strewn along the Thames. Massive and yet delicate, its black rooftop sheltered once the British Secret Intelligence Service MI6. I walked along the Southbank shore maybe a hundred times, but only now I seem to notice the royal elegance Whitehall Court spreads around. It’s like all the other buildings are vassals to its grace, placed there with the sole purpose of enhancing its beauty. Across the river, behind me,...

Paralympics

Paralympics

Last week was great! Great weather, great company, great time at the Paralympics. With only a few days until the end, my friend Lorna invited us – me and Aidan – to go together to see the athletics competition. It was an amazing experience. The stadium, the crowd, the staff guiding us in singing voices towards the main entrance. Lorna said they reminded her of Disneyland. They had been greeted there with the same hospitality and jovial guidance. I have to hand it to the Brits, they did an amazing job with everything. Although Romania was not represented at all in the couple of hours we spent inside the stadium, I was thrilled to watch the races. And I got goosebumps every time we were asked to stand up and listen to the winners’ national...

#38Write Workshop – Peregrination

A few months ago I enrolled in a wonderful writing journey – Kristin’s “monthly series of online writing adventure workshops for place-passionate, culturally curious writers around the world. Each writing adventure focuses on one particular aspect of craft or the writing life”. During this 38-hour adventure, we connect with Kristin and #38Write writers around the world via a Twitter hashtag and a group Pinterest board. In the August workshop topic was Peregrination and connected 16 writers in 8 countries. So, for 38 hours we peregrinated – travelled on foot – and wrote about where our steps took us. One of the writing assignments was to tell a story of a walk that changed us in some significant way and that connected us...