About Me

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i moved where my heart had drifted off to long before. i live on a hill of hundred acres, where my dreams have merged with the view. it is quiet from machine noises yet loud with sounds of horses, dogs, cats chickens and ducks. nature is the true artist in resident and i am just her apprentice who often gets lost in her gaze. once and a while i travel back to cities and foreign places to put into photographs what i have learned, yet always, part of my heart is left on the hill..

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

falling rain

i heard it faintly in the wind, the way you used say my name. have you whispered it lately. i shall believe not, for once i was called fickle i protested not, even though it hurt the very core of me when you said it for at that moment you knew me not. I now understand the little pieces that come to me when-you spoke to me it was as if you were speaking to yourself, for dear man you are fickle, my mistake is that there was no face to my love just one that was made out trees, falling rain and birds that sang beautifully, i have not lost those things, they exist always in me, for me, never ending is the chapter that i wrote with my pen and invisible ink..

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

a pot

as i write i stare unto the pastures lined with trees of every color. at times the wind plays making the leaves look like falling snow flakes. meringues bake in the oven and the rays of sun are piercing through the kitchen window. so why am i feeling like i might boil over

Saturday, October 3, 2009

calling out

it is the rain that brings me home to that place deep within me. it is easy to think of the past with a mixture of sadness, it only take a minute to stir emotions that for a long time laid dormant. it is strange when everything outside slowly begins to die and ready itself for the stillness of winter, my heart decides to beat harder as if calling out to me, i am here, i am here, i am here.