street romance

it wasn't a mysterious stranger who handed me this beauty of a flower. it was waiting for me on the bicycle lane on my way home in the dark of today's rainy night. the fact that I noticed it, turned around, and picked it up makes it even more special to me.

as a character in a novel I'd presumably be about to meet the love of my live, but even in a more sober reality this event gives me a nice 'life is good' - feeling in my stomach ;)

Herbstlich(t)

psychedelic garden

romantic garden

autumn mood

8-bit paris

 totally love http://8bitcity.com/map?Paris#

strange reading

I suppose it is kinda commonplace - nowadays on this big miraculous thing called the Internet (of which most of us are no longer part, but rather connected to - but this is a different story about network politics...) - to read blogs of people one has never met. Still, to me it is news, and I am finding that I would actually like to meet some of them - the ones whose humor is just right and whose language skills stun me with their breathtaking subtleness.

So if anyone has suggestions for brain-trickling reads, feel free to share them with me!

shared responsibility

generally it's nice to think that the responsibility for making many things in life run smoothly is distributed on more than just my shoulders.

big drawback: if you've done your best you're in for a violent shock when someone else turns up to tell you they seriously screwed it up.

distorting reality

Nothing is as suitable to discover one's fears and insecurities than a person who does not show much response to the attempt of interacting with them. Somehow the mind will start to explain away the lacking information (the state of not knowing apparently seems to be unacceptable to the reasoning mechanism), thus producing a rather random image of reality.

It's comparable with a white wall - nothing is there to disturb whatever painting one will draw on it... nothing to give guidance for proportions, nor to put things into a realistic perspective. It's all done free-handedly, based on a potpourri of assumptions and impressions.

And then, compared with paint and brush, how much more powerful is a mind drawing it's conclusions and projecting them unto others in an attempt to explain what is happening? When drawing, painters usually have the reflex to step back and compare the painting with the model - which is not necessarily an instinct when dealing with thoughts?

I can't help wondering where to find the gap between realistic estimation and wild imagination. Any ideas?

répondez-moi...

pour Lise