imaginary best friend

perhaps in your fantasy it was not my birthday
yesterday

perhaps in your fantasy you get to choose when

when you are someone's fantasy "come true" you do not
have the right to feel or want or celebrate
only wives have the right to......

driving for a cup of salvation

i have been on the road since friday

Friday's rain.....................
landing on the a rock of some shore
i found the perfect spot for a
very special possession....

Saturday's sunshine
Walking underneath a beautiful
sky among the orange, yellow trees,
taking photograph after photograph
feeling good, no i felt great which sent
an alert to the happiness attackers
and they got me, they got me good
drove thru every emotion that
morning every one, my friend

now the afternoon driving
on route 1(coastal)but no sight of
the ocean....what is scenic to me is
not to others....driving quickly not stopping
in hopes to find a place I came across
a few years ago, a simple cafe with breads you can
smell before you even open the door.....will the door
be open or will it be one other thing...to think about

it is open and I sit there with my mocha
and a feeling like something understands
my needs and eager to please....

can a cup of mocha save your spirit
today it has...............

color

I layed on the wood floor
and felt the heat change
the color of my skin

lumière

the light caught
me by surprise

In the dark I learn

the following things
that I have nothing to be scared off
that I can still see clearly, really
that what I dream about with my eyes closed
I can also live with my eyes open
that I like being awake when everyone is asleep
and that everyone is sleeping when they think they are awake

PSYOP MTV HD Raven Video

to those who know me and to those who do not understand me.....
if I was a bird

mots

un journée de pluie
pas de soleil pas de repos
rien dans moi est tranquille

je regarde autour de moi
mes yeux ne voie rien,
c'est mon coeur
qui se ferme.....

non-
pas de magie ou des
miracles...mes des mots
qui se promène devant
moi comme des feuilles
qui dansent dans le ciel

un jour moi une feuilles
et toi le ciel.

Falling in October

It is the fall and October (heaven)
I am going on a driving holiday
NY, Maine, Vermont and Quebec City

In my travels, I will revisit last year of
memories, of you, him and I...

I am going to sort things
out till I find the place
called clarity

I will do it one step
forward

house-keeping

I arrived home at 7 p.m.
dog waiting outside

I had work to do, so
I took off my clothes, and put
on a white t-shirt, yoga pants
and a french linen apron

I turned on the tap at the kitchen sink,
luke warm to hot, first a red bowl
then a glass, and another, three forks
a spoon and a knife later, i turned
off the tap and took my sponge and wiped
the sink, the counters, light fixtures
and appliances, fridge , stove and so on

I lifted all the chairs off the floor
swept the kitchen, bathroom, dining and living
room and the vestibule

I turned the tap on again and filled the sink with geranium scented
soap, i took a mop out and started, living, dining, kitchen,and bathroom
and yes the vestibule...

then it hit me suddenly,

I stood still, l tried not to move blink or breathe,
as if somehow I could take it all back.......

would Jacob notice that I had just wiped the last traces of porter..

I tried not breathe, but I did
and it hurt....

the kindness of strangers

I have always believed in the
in the magical power that comes
from the kindness of strangers
not to mention the timing ...
perfect

thank you....

i am tired my love, it is as simple as that
I am no longer sure of what we are doing
and I no longer know if my heart can understand
fact from fiction, love from lust.

Faith is what I had but something I no longer posses.

I have said I love you when you feared I had stopped
I have listened to the beautiful things you have said
and have gotten lost, deeply lost my love

but now each and every-morning
that I wake, I realize I reside on the
other side of where you live

and each and every day as my eyes stare
into the darkness of the evening sky
i ask you who am i.

quand le coeur est delicat

ce soir je trouve
que mes yeux, mes
jambes, mes bras
me demande d'arrêté
juste pour un petit peu

et la vérité mon coeur est fatigué

did i tell you

did I tell you
he waltzed me
around the room,
said my name without
shame, introduced me
to him and her

he is not even a good man
but he did these things

did i tell you someone posted
something I wrote on there blog
for all to see, did i tell you

this man is a good
but he has never met me


did i tell you sometimes I feel
lost,

did I tell you have hidden me well,love

Cesária Évora / Cesaria Evora - Sodade (live)

WhenI heard this song in Volver..I remember the feeling I had, I knew I was alive, because my heart hurt .

when we loose color

I created this post earlier.
I had trouble puting my feelings
into words so I held on to it in my
draft folder.

It was going to start with

I am pale.....when color fades from....

but this afternoon something happened

and I experienced the title of this post

Blowing glass

Today in a secret place he asked how would we be

my answer




grand, we would be grand

L'air du temps

un rêve tout simple

un ciel gris et moi un oiseau blanc
je cherche un arbre sans feuilles, un arbre
non vivant mais pas mort. Je traverse
des frontières rouges, mais comme toujours
c'est contre le ciel gris que les plumes blanches
de mes ailes tombent comme des flocons de neige

savoir

the last few days I have been thinking about
what I know for sure and what I know
nothing about, once again I might not be
able to explain to you what exactly I mean.
Truth, I am not even sure who YOU and you and
u are, is it me? or did I give life to "onesilentwinter"
have I desperately wished to whisper in your ear
when it was not possible to do and instead created
this place and in turn created the us that has not been?

well perhaps if I list what I know

it is sunday evening
I am wearing a white shirt
there is a white vase on my table with flowers from my garden
there is music playing, some of it makes me sad and some of it, is simply you
there is a ceiling fan that has been on since the first warm summer day
a faint taste of mango remains on my lips
my dog lies at my feet his eyes shut tight
and I have a desire to start a fire in the outside fireplace, but i know i won't, not tonight

here is what I don't know

when you are going to call me home, love

and why my dog just got up.....

just one week

The summer and the warmth it brings
have lingered into September...
I notice how this makes
people happy and I am glad.

but for me, I humbly wish for
snow on this Autumn day. I must
confess, I am partial to the cooler months
and it is only on those days do I truly
understand the power of the sun...

just a week of bare trees to let the sun
in.....just a week of white snow to
reflect upon.....just a little chill in my bones so
that I have a just reason to bask in the warmth of your
skin...

Gray

I am starting to wonder if in life there is
a true black and white moment.
Opposites of each other, creating contrasts.
can we really see one without the other..or when looking
hard enough, digging deep enough, does it all become
a shade of gray....

broken

one day soon I will fly away
and see things a different way....

my love, it is coming to an end.....

a summer's end

I must put them away now,
the white shirt I wore at the farm,
a white linen dress from the galery,
all the white cotton shirts from the garden
a white eyelet I wore on your birthday
an eyelet dress I wore for the birds and the butterflies..

I must put them away, just like the hopes I had of you and I...

a day drive threw the country, a nap on the grass at the farm,
a swim at the lake, a midnight dance under the starts and
the outdoor film, I waited for you?

I must pack all those away now....
and say goodbye white linen dress and camisole till next summer

but no summer memories for you and I ..
I must put those away for good...

the story he is telling

I am wondering, what story is being told
who is writing it? is it you "my love"
it is sad the story you are writing. In the
beginning of the book we recognized her
happiness, her strength and her love for you..
why did you change her......why did you ...

She was your heroine, your lady,
"your one true love"

l'oiseau et le ciel rouge

I wonder about freedom
and the cost

I wonder is it
still called freedom
when there is no place
safe enough to call home

Falling flowers

I found myself crying
it was unexpected
all of a sudden I was lost

I knew that I had reached
exhaustion..that would put me
at risk ....To much, i decided not to speak.
I knew how bad it was when he brought
out a blanket and pulled the chaise next
to the fire, in complete daylight..
he said that I needed to sleep and tucked
the pillow behind my head, I tried fighting it
but he continued wrapping
me . I could feel the sun and
the fire the warmth reminded
me of what was possible.
Then he leaned and said "sleep"

and I slept in the afternoon, yes
the afternoon.

I just discovered this song, It makes me happy
have a listen...

Maria Taylor - A Good Start

A million I love you's

I have heard it said and written many times now

but today, you said I love you and I knew

there it was

the one that would forever
play in my minds memory,

today you whispered it

directly into my soul, my core

a river my love , a river

My love does not extend to a full afternoon

Maybe if i showed him the mountain

he would believe in the possibilties

The day dreams he shared with her, she
would find the roads that led to them.

if she showed him the mountain, he could
visualize , better yet feel her hand in his.
she would lay at the base of the mountain
so he could explore all her crevasses

She would show him the mountain, but they
would not jump off it, but instead together
they would learn to climb it.....

a lilttle rain on sunday morning

It was beautiful and strong, still tired i began to believe that the rain was only falling in my backyard. I sat there watching it. I lingered a little this morning, grateful for the silence that surrounded me. I got dressed and made my way to the cafe, i had not been there in a while and I was proud of that fact. Driving I realized how tired i was, i think I even said out-loud in quiet voice "i am tired love, perhaps defeated even" arriving at the cafe was like entering a country which population is a billion and you have just come from a town that has a sign that says population 323. I immediately bumped into her and she talked, and talked and she talked some more, I reminded her that her husband was in the car and it was hot out, I was grateful for the husband in the car and the sun. My table open, odd considering all the people, I sat, sipped and scored the new york times, it was fat and full of art happenings. Every museum, gallery, theater announcing the upcoming seasons, I promised myself that things would be different this fall and winter and that I would drive up to the city when ever I could. Two people I had not seen in long time showed up, I surprised myself and them I think by saying "the family is all here" I think I meant it. He chatted about his trip and work while he chatted about must see movies. we talked about my upcoming trip and they expressed there worries, although it was nice to have someone lookout for me I wanted to say to them, but I am all alone here. we talked a little more and decided to see a movie that evening, i had never hang out with them outside the cafe, but glad that we where going to give it a go.

Saturdays

I never really liked them, even as a child but fridays were good and wednesdays even better.

Oxygen and Blood

Today, I must tell you I came very close to giving it all up with the hope of finding clarity, when a thought came to me. This thought stood right in front of me and refused to leave till I promised to understand it and follow it. I could tell for a few days now that something was going to let go, crash or simply break and it did today. It is the kind of break that releases pressure and confusion and allows you to finally take that along awaited breath............. I am excited, nervous and yet I feel calm........ Upon returning home, for a tiny moment of relaxation i found this e-mail from someone I have never met, yet he has strangely given me the peace and kindness i had forgotten was possible. I hope he doesn't mind me sharing it..because for now this letter is the tree i rest under

(no matter what I write or say not one single moment is not for you,love...it is only that you will never comprehend the turmoil and pain I often find myself in and how quickly I go from a happiness I have never known to a pain i desperately wish would cease to exist...I know you will judge me and when doing so you will feel some relief..but I will say this I hope that you never turn your judgement towards yourself it would rip you my love ...I know you must be thinking why am I saying this here in this somewhat anonymous way ..it is simply where I found the courage

I will call him kindman......... to me Aug 31 Mrs.

First, I would like to say to you that my english is very bad. I am Quebecer (before to be Canadian, because my language and my culture are differents of the rest of the country). So, as you saw it on my blog Le cahier des saisons, my name is .............., I live in Québec city, I speak french, I write in french, I live in french every day. For it, I hope you are going to excuse that bad expression about what I mean. I am writing to you, you that I do not know, to say thank you very, very much to visited my blog (you know, in french we can write «blogue») Le cahier des saisons. I was very happy to read your so nice words about what I have written. I read two or three times your little comment. A comment looking like a quiet and small flower. You are gentle. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. But (because there is a «but») I was very surprised that you could read my texts! Here is the question: you understand french? You can read in french? Maybe you can understand french but you are unable to write it? However, you wrote a few words in my language. And I understood it! It is amazing and great! I have a few things to say to you. First, is it possible that I know your name? If not, forget it. I just do not want to disturb you, of course. Secondly, I want to tell you that I also visited your blog onesilentwinter . Very, very vice «place of your own». I liked the artistic atmosphere you built, a blend of so delicious words and photos full of sense based on a kind of freedom. Your blog is inviting. It seems I walk in the border of the reality, and I do love it. Very nice blog. Finally, I noted we have a some similar preferences (really, I apologize for my bad way to express what I want to say to you) as arts, literature, Tolstoï (or Tolstoy in english), classical music (but I like Diana Krall too), Camille Claudel (did you see the french movie called Camille Claudel?) and maybe other things, I do not know. Have a nice day. Again, thank you. Bye.

everything I know is no longer than a grain of rice

I think I have options, choices but tonight they seems to hide, disappear from my hearts vision. The brain part of my head has decided to take control or at least make an attempt too. I know what it is telling me to do, how I wish I could fight it. I suddenly have an understanding; there is walls you can break thru and some you just can't. we just can't . all i seem able to do right now is stare at the little red lights that illuminate my existence.

I wonder will the only warmth I feel this fall come from that very light.

Three of us at the garden

Meet me at the garden, for 5 minutes, it's so good to see you, your arms
and fingers, I forget them when there not around, I only love them when
I see them but when I leave I forget them.

I love you, I love you, oh but only when I am here at the secret garden , the apartment
the cemetery...but only when we are there, not when I am at home in my yard
or in the yard with martin, or with my shovel and bob...okay not when I am at my mums
or her mums, or at the grocery store..but at the doctors I do, that's something right?

but I love you when you are here in the secret garden..because when your not you blend in
but when you are here you are your own identity, I can see clearly then and I love you and your
arms specially the middle part, there ..but only.....when you are here ....

it's okay myshkin i will make sense of it.. no matter where I am...
even today at the wedding, the church with the priest up there and my husband by
my side... the priest is telling me that I am lucky to be married, and how sacred it
is and I should love full heartedly, i believe him. I hold my husbands hand and for a moment
i want it to work, I believe it will...but later, i realize how imposible that would be
because on tuesday I will see you, and remember that I love you all the time and everywhere
and that is the only thingmy heart knows fully

nothing to fear, you will see

my camera and me...

if I stay, you stay, we stay
he goes, she goes

we begin...

not afraid

my camera and me

I am going far

diving

deep into it...

Pure food

Yesterday I went to New York, I was very chatty.
I do not like it when i am chatty.

I walked the fabric district,
walked passed many bolts of fabric
had them cut a few.

I met her, you and them
we sat at rice, we sat at joe's
I drank mangoes, water, mocha's
and avocadoes.

I bought tooth paste and lip balm

i went to pure food and wine.
sitting in the courtyard I realized i
was the rawest thing there, not the
coconut, the cauliflower, the
gazpacho... maybe not pure
but definetely raw..it was me not
the jerusalem artichoke.

I can't meet you at the river they will notice me here with you

Le bateau is leaving, love
le bateau it is leaving, no not without us
mais sans toi

toxic

I have started "Oil Pulling" a practice upon waking
and before the brushing of teeth, you take a tablespoon
of organic cold pressed oil and move it around your mouth
for fifteen minutes..swishing around and around..
but It had to come to an abrupt stop, the oil now replaced
with the words "brutally self absorbed"

The practice of Oil Pulling is to remove all toxin from the body
The practice of moving the words "brutally self absorbed" is realizing
your the toxin.

a false night

I am holding him and in that
moment we are no longer in this crowd of people
I build a cave for us to swim into and that cave
is as dark as the night is in me
I am holding his hand as we move silently and
smoothly through the water.
I know what it is a matter of the
blind leading the blind. A few stones
on the wall glisten
perhaps reflecting the light that emanates
from his eyes

and we mistake them for stars.

why do you live on the fence, love

makeup

I arrive..I do not see you ...I try not to cry, but the tears fall and mix with the rain
I turn around and there you are.
I look up .....and you say "are you wearing make up..
I say yes knowing that the mascara has run down my face
You pull the folded napkin and wipe my face so gently..I start to laugh...then I kiss
you wrist as you are wiping the last traces of my makeup.

Porter

For porter a dog and a love noble and true


August 20th, 2007 the date that meant nothing until
It got here….I just need to say I miss you and I missed so much of you
I had false faith that we would have our time together I am sorry

I was wrong to believe in something that was not of the moment.


Today myshkin came over wanting me wanting to be inside of me..for the longest
Time I wanted nothing more..I wanted to say but now I am hollow dear friend
and when you enter me..you will see I am an empty
vessel.

I have used the word want four times without a full sentence
I want /

I stared at his dark eyes surrounded with even darker circles
Did he see me….trying hard to stay with him..it looked
Like he was pouring in to me….. but still.

an empty vessel...

I miss your face ..your eyes

your eyes turned shades of gray ...
soft till your last stare… you where my friend

Someone please make it stop
regret, the vision of his last stare
was he disappointed,


You never dispointed me, never.
even at the very last second
You stayed with me. for me..

It is quiet, I heard you go
down to the stairs again, is it to
dark in your basement to see me?

I am her not a lampost, you crashed into me
as you ran up your basement stairs.

I have no idea who you are

Today I feel like a carcase.. I know I will not be able to explain
why.. perhaps..instead of a carcase. I am book, a hard cover book
with all the pages removed.


re-visited

I think - Posted at 09:28 PM on September 7, 2007 by monday to friday
Did I forgot to tell love that I was human. I am now a carcase, you have picked at me, fed off me and now what I have mistaken for passion turns out to be blood that pours out of the tiny holes left by wounds from the knife you carry. I do not know you at all perhaps you are a chameleon, a spider? loving us all taking it all from us. I am now a hardcovered book with all the pages torn out. you can't rewrite this one, it is not fiction dear noble man.

Chama