she collected memories like seashells and always remembered.

"sometimes winning, winning is no fun at all."

truth of the matter is:
I wanted to be missed - 
I wanted you to miss me. 
like really miss me. 
because I had always been there for you. 
and then there came the day 
that I always knew would always come,
when I would tell you,
I was leaving. 
not forever, 
just for awhile. 
and you startled me
with your eyes filling with foreign
emotions. 
perhaps, of realization
that I wasn't always going to silently be there
for you like
I always had been in the past

truth of the matter is, 
I expected
to be missed 
but I didn't think
I would miss
you more already.
xx

postscript: brownie points to whoever can tell me where the quote came from. *wink*

with grace in her heart and flowers in her hair... {eshkati dress review}

march and april do not seem very eager to bring much with them with the exception of the constant planning of the future months - constantly scribbling down dates and times on the calendar only to blot them out the next day. SAT's, college, graduating, weddings, plays, dances, birthdays - it seems odd that my world at  present is standing still while there's so much in the future.
we've been experiencing deliciously warm weather of late - the type of weather that feels like you're practically sipping summertime with all the exhilarating anticipation that comes with every dainty breath. may has not even graced the calendar, and the weather is already determined to turn into summer while the rest of the states contend with snow storms and tornadoes - typical californian weather: always flying ahead of the seasons. like life and time: always determined to swiftly pass by without notice, and perhaps, without any reason at all.

to my delight, the darling clothing company eShakti generously sent me another dress from their spring line. the dress was shipped within two weeks after submitting my order {yes, this review is a bit late...but I was waiting for a nice warm spell for a photoshoot}, custom made for this product review. the fabric is absolutely lovely - the color took my breath away when my eyes first laid upon the dress and the lightness of the cotton is absolute perfection for the HOT summer months in cali. the beautiful thing with eShakti is being presented the option of submitting your measurements for a perfect fit. after my first fantastic experience with eShakti, my hopes were a bit dashed as this particular dress fit a bit snug in the bust area and arrived without the sash promised in the photo. however for such a darling style and lovely color, there truly isn't any room for complaint; and it shall most definitely be worn many times over this summertime. 

special thanks to jennifer for contacting me and for connecting me with this darling dress!

have you sifted through your spring wardrobe yet? 

xx

The Girl in Her Garden

postscript: yay for 540 garden entries!

oh, hodgepodge.

of late //

+ overnight my family and I have become british...not that I'm complaining. the words "lift, flat, mobile, telly, cuppa, obviously, fantastic, brilliant, smashing, biscuit," and so forth and so on have been mused many times o'er - because british accents are cool [and so are bow-ties. and yes, eleven is my doctor]. so from here on out, read everything I post here with a british accent. can you do that for me? just one more miracle...for me. deary. *ahem* with that said, scold me as harshly as you will [my best friends are going to kill me when they finds out] but I think I just might have become a whovian. by contingency that is. thank you steven moffat for leaving us to die until season three comes out. 

+ following that statement: sherlock is my obsession. obviously. repeat after me: sherlock is marvelous!  

+ for some reason, I really can't remember actors/singers' names to save my life [and if I do, you can rightly be assured that I hold them in a high regard...like that's ever so important] - however I do speak fluently in movie/telly quotes.

+ I take pride in myself that I can pronounce "sorry" like a true canadian [apparently, I don't have much to take pride in...].

+ I attempt to speak stumble over spanish conversations to my parents [and to the wall...but you didn't really need to know that]. 

+ book me a plane ticket to london or paris, and I will be your best friend forever.

+ playing sherlock music on the violin is easier said than done.

+ I miss disneyland. [yay, october!] 

+ I forgot how cheery the sight is of the first summer roses saying 'ello

+ I like music, but I love soundtracks from tv/movies more.
+ I really want this and a typewriter. always a typewriter [so I can name it pond]. 
+ it's kind of hard to swallow the idea that I'm going to college in a year [not that you swallow an idea - come to think of it, yes it would be rather difficult to swallow and idea].
+ when the pantry is newly stocked with black tea, I kind of do a happy dance.

________________________________________________________________________________________

everyday it seems like I am inspired to go out of my way to capture that perfect still, listen to the enchanting music, or write down that perfect word. every day I realize how good april has been to me.

postscript: I'm running out of DW episodes. somebody help me! and don't say the van buren supernova. 

a note to you brilliant shooting star you.

When the sun goes down and the lights burn out then it's time for you to shine brighter than a shooting star so shine no matter where you are fill the darkest night with a brilliant light 'caus it's time for you to shine brighter than a shooting star so shine no matter where you are tonight.                                                   >> shooting star, owl city << 

simply put, you are brilliant. well, you are. don't argue. just listen:

do you know what brilliant really truly means? we go around shouting it on the rooftops because 1). it is ever so wonderfully british {to us anglophiles obviously and popularized by this fantastic man} 2) because 'tis quite fun to say and 4) no wait - 3) no ... -- but have you ever stopped to read the real definition?

Bril-liant Adjective  (of light) Very bright and radiant.

Noun A diamond of brilliant cut.

Synonyms adjective.   bright - shining - splendid - shiny - resplendent noun.   diamond

resplendent. I like that. you are resplendent, m'dear. quite brilliant indeed.

and whether or not you feel it at the moment, really this describes you perfectly. not because of what you do or where you go or how you dress or what you write or say or don't say or share {although that too} but because He made you brilliant. absolutely brilliant.

and all I really wanted to say is that the talent and encouragement you share in this blogging world is absolutely amazing. perhaps, you don't receive a thirty comments or likes or hearts or reblogs; but always know that this whole entire world {especially outside of this tiny box called the internet} would be a lonelier, darker place without you, love. and your story is the one I'm absolutely dying to read.

stay lovely, you brilliant shooting star you!

xx | the girl in her garden.
listen 
postscript : there are so many more of you I haven't come to know "personally" {as personally as a screen allows me to anyhow}, nor perhaps, have I visited your blog yet. in case, I haven't "officially" met you and you've visited my little garden here, I'd be delighted if you left your link to I can pick you a bouquet of lilacs and pop by to say a proper 'ello in a rather british accent.  

le petites choses {the little things} vol. i

every tear is answered with a blossom; every sigh with songs and laughter blent. april blooms upon the breezes toss them. april knows her own and is content. -susan collidge

>> relishing the taste of spring sunshine in the form of vibrant citrus. 
>> yellow poppies peeping up to say hullo. 
>> new LR presets {seriously, people, I'm smitten with these polaroid/vintagy presets}. 
>> this pretty lady's post {her blog is solid eye-candy + warm nostalgic soul food}.
>> cello music {it vigorously stimulates the creative juices}. 
>> sweet potato crisps + carrot juice = happy tummy. 
>> april walks on breezy afternoons. 
>> prepping my garden for springtide planting. 
>> cuppa + bubble bath {seriously, though if you have never sipped a cuppa tea in a steamy/warm/dreamy/bubbly bath, YOU HAVE NOT LIVED!}. 
>> sifting through the rudiments of my summer wardrobe.
>> clean damp braids.   
>> ponder // listen // cry // heart melting/squealing           

______________________________________________________________________

x | the girl in her garden

Poetry to a starving artist.

| yours truly failing at an attempt of  being a fashion model *smiles* + sneak peek of a spring photoshoot *wink, wink* | 

 the wind combed restlessly through the wispy evergreens

 that particular april afternoon. 

 the unobservant would have never noticed

 while the cynic would have scowled 

 but sat i there and observed the 

 tint of sadness in her raspy song. 

 desperately she clawed; all the more dismal she became 

 while sat i there and wondered 

 how much it said of me

 to see the a breeze be lonely

                                 searching. 

                                 
                                          searching. 

                                           
                                                never ceasing to search. 

 or if it were all the same. 

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I have discovered for myself this past year, like most bloggers will at one time or another, that blogging has a particular talent in being rather difficult. it should be quite easy, but sometimes it just plain isn't. perhaps, 'tis because I want it to be easy. all I really want are heart-stopping words and a few breath-taking photographs to be as easily produced as making toast [which, by the way, don't underestimate making toast as it can be proven to be a rather difficult morning task. i mean, you have to stick bread into this machine that will literally swallow it up and burn it to a crisp and then refuse to return it. and then you electrocute yourself by sticking a metal object to fish out the thoroughly burnt piece of bread that really isn't worth it in the end. and THEN - ok, bad analogy. let's move on.]  in order to gain thirty comments and twenty million followers. sometimes you wonder if that's too much to ask. 

but let's face it. good things are not proven to be easy. like making that perfect piece of cinnamon toast [with that beautiful golden brown bread sopping up that warm ivory butter with that perfectly thin sprinkle of cinnamon and crystals of sugar - why is it so difficult to make a perfect piece of toast? *ahem*]

but the real question is: is it rewarding? 
oh, yes. a hundred times yes.

and thanks to the wind, there's always poetry within the reach of one's fingertips, always encouraging one onward to capture her complexity with words.

off to make a perfect piece of toast now. 

xx 

The Girl in her Garden

good news: my tripod works grand! 
word of advice: never ever EVER try to film a vlog in the middle of the street {even if the background is irresistibly lovely} else your whole entire neighborhood [who half the time seems frightened out of their wits to step outside] will want to be filmed. 

out of memory and time.

there is a hard place to describe

there is pushed into the depth of my heart into the far corner of my memory  

but as the first notes falling gingerly upon my ear

the gateway swings open

and  instantly I am transported

there

a memory caught within time's net

never to be set free

never to be forgotten

always to be cherished and twice poured o'er

out of the music

out of memory and time

I am there. 

Hope fades Into the world of night Through shadows falling Out of memory and time Don't say: We have come now to the end White shores are calling You and I will meet again And you'll be here in my arms Just sleeping And all will turn To silver glass A light on the water Grey ships pass Into the West

I had not been aware how deeply it would move me. it was the first night I had ever heard that trill of beauty. and my heartstrings quivered as it imprinted itself upon my mind, filling the depths of my soul with honey-sweet warmth, sewing the summer evening into my skin...into my memory. suppose, it was not so much the words or the melody but the nostalgia knitted into each crescendo and gentle dwindling of notes - all the summer memories of catching shooting stars with our eyes, drinking intoxicating laughter, singing around the piano forte, and loving the rejuvenating sensation of being fully alive. the memory of my eyes splitting at the westward horizon and being there.
summer can't come soon enough.

what song throws you into the depths of nostalgia?

  je te'aime

The Girl in the Garden 

postscript :: 'tis good to return to my garden. 

p.s.s. I built a spanish cottage where tea and biscuits are waiting. ;)