Jan 29, 2013

on characters|eponine.

a trace of beauty still lingered in the sixteen year old face like pale sunlight fading beneath the massed clouds of a winter's dawn...

a little fall of rain, can hardly hurt me now. a breath away from where you are and I've come home from so far...

i love him, but everyday i'm learning all my life i've only been pretending. without me, his world will go on turning, a world that's full of happiness that i have never known. i love him. I love him. i love him, but only on. my. own...  

so. if you are a follower of my pinterest, you may have been able to discern from the sudden explosion of pins flooding your feed last month {currently it has been invaded by Sherlock, but that's a whole 'nother post entirely} that I am somewhat of a - em - recent Les Miserables fanatic. *cough 'understatement' cough* more specifically, I seem to have nurtured a fond admiration {*cough, 'other understatement' cough*} for the poor heroine eponine - to the point of which, I sing all the lyrics word perfect of "on my own" even half-mindedly; and it is a fact "a little fall of rain" shortly comes thereafter. oh, yes! I take great pride in that. if not singing in my horribly cracked voice, at least, humming {I may have driven my cat and mother into insanity because of my incessant humming, but the Brits have driven me into a horribly unstable emotional state of being first, with all these heart-wrenching dramas they have been producing!!! sorry, off topic}. but hey! I'm not a onedirection fan, so might as well sing something at the top of my lungs at my poor family's expense, right?! rather sad heroine to fall in love with, but there is something captivating of eponine's story {not to mention samantha bark's incredible voice}.

I have always gravitated towards the good female character that always receives her "happily-ever-after" and rides into the sunset with prince charming. still do. in fact a few months ago, knowing little about the story, cosette was my favorite character before I completely immersed myself into the world of Les Miserables. although when I "met" eponine for the first time, there was some genuine sadness that I could completely and utterly relate. though pity is always the first feeling when I see the poor creature in her tangled hair and rags, the loneliness and the love - the self-sacraficing love- she holds in her small heart for Marius always stirs my heart. and usually results in feeling a 'little fall of rain' slipping down my cheek, thinking about it. {*sniff, sniff* there I go again.} because, I can relate. 'suppose now it is time to admit, I have had fond admirations for certain gentlemen {more on my actually being a real human being blogger coming in next month's posts} in the past. of course nothing as extreme as eponine's affection for marius, but I know how it feels to be ignored. half agony. half hope. and 'tis truly one of the hardest feelings in the world to nurture within one's heart. but eponine receives her own happily ever after by "sleeping in your [Marius'] embrace at last." and despite the flood of tears gushing down my face in the movie theatre, I was so very happy. so very happy indeed.

now, 'tis time to ask you. who do you like most: cosette or eponine?
the girl in the garden.

*disclaimer, all images above were found via pinterest. I do not claim any of them nor endorse the content found on original sources.

Jan 25, 2013

over the hill.

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I live in a little glen that is nestled between three knolls where quail and deer and squirrels alike gather in the brambles for friendly conversations and oak dryads lean down only when their boughs are heavy with secrets. there is but one street, merely a lane, cracked and broken with years of age that twists into our little sanctuary of trees. outside of my little glen is a town of only 30,000 people with half as many visitors to tour our wineries. we are a community and simple living is our way of life. our neighbors are old friends, and I can judge the days and times by the snippets of our neighbor's routine :: like when our neighbor's truck leaves for work in the mornings or I know 'tis saturday if my neighbors are cleaning their cars. I couldn't imagine living anywhere else in the world nor should I ever want to.   
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but then sometimes, I feel like nothing from the outer world can ever touch our little glen. seasons barely make their appearances and most first-time callers become lost before ever reaching our doorstep. isolation makes my heart swell with loneliness. I open the window, for once ignoring the cold, as I dream what wonders lie outside our quiet hollow. my heart beats longingly as it attempts to catch the solemn notes from the thundering ocean - that I like to imagine lies over the hill and not miles away.      
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but this is where I call home. and home shall forever be my heart remains...

get over your hill and see what you can find there with grace in your heart and flowers in your hair...

{mumford and sons}

where does your heart call home, deary? 
the girl in her garden glen. 
postscript :: how do you like the new design? dear miss bethany of grace of my redeemer kindly {and patiently} re-designed it for me. 

Jan 20, 2013

the coffee shop on main.

there is a little place on main where the white-framed doors let in pools of light and jumbled notes of familiar songs, where the atmosphere brimming with warmth from the sconce lighting in the little cafe, where air is always diffused with the potent scent of old-fashioned coffee grounds, and where everything - the cookie cabinet, the shelves showcasing momentos, and the drawers glued shut permanently with beans - echoes memories from times long gone by and remembered only by few. 
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Jan 17, 2013

sigh no more, darling // this is the future and it's time for you to shine

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>> blogging. focus on the good, soak up the lovely inspiration you amazing lovelies out there produce, take the most perfect picture to be noticed the most often like "insert popular girl's blog," and say the wittiest most remarkable words to be heard the loudest. easy? right, right? wrong. only now  - what am I saying, I have realize all this time, deep down, that I've been living a perfect dream all this time, or at least scared to for fear of failing. actually scratch that, I've lost the focus I had when I first started this little online garden: to make it a community. give this girl a DSLR camera and Lightroom and boom! she has visions of blogger fame while being the "hipster" artist, placing her mark on the world, finding her voice - only to loose the focus on the voice that really mattered. but not now. because this - this is the future. no more waiting in the dark. no more tossing and turning wondering what I'm doing wrong. no more trying to copy another. no more chasing after a voice that's already mine. because this is the time to shine. 

why hold back? you are only given one life to live, why not live it to the craziest, loveliest, fullest life any soul could ever live, even if it's not written down, photographed, or noticed. not be noticed? absurd, you will because this is your time to shine, darling.  
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hi there, love! I'm grace! yes, I'm a dork.....able. I also love MARVEL {back off, Thor is MINE!} wear glasses but I've switched to contacts {there's a whole list of them in my Gmail account if you should care to look at them and be a perfect love by organizing them all - yes, I have that many friends}, swoon when I walk into an antique shop, hate my braces but am not in a hurry to get them off, sing les miserables at the top of my lungs when no one's around {although my voice cracks terribly}, love my cat to the point where I'm sure I terrify the poor creature, am obsessed over Person of Interest {John Reese is the epitome of awesome}, love everything disneyland, has lightroom but no idea how to use it yet, say too much, live a historical, fantasy by reenacting, crafts as easily as breathing, and I drink tea to keep myself relatively sane amidst it all {and writes it all down in run-on paragraphs that hardly make sense}. 

I've said it before, and I will say it again : it's luverly to meet ya, darling! life's just a crazy mess, so sit down for a cup o' vanilla tea for a rest, why dontcha? {and maybe catch a breath of an early spring.} 

*special thanks to firmoo for the free pair of glasses to review. although the sample they sent me are a bit big for my face, it was fun trying on a pair of nerdy cuteness and wonderful to work with the friendly service. the glasses themselves are very light {great for people who get headaches easily} and the quality is very good. lovely to find a glasses case, cleaner cloth, and mini screwdriver that were sent along with the sample. ;) thanks, firmoo
what's one crazy thing that people don't know about you? do tell!  
the girl in the garden. 
postscript :: a bit of sprucing up of my garden is coming soon, darling. *wink* 

Jan 16, 2013

i saw nostalgia etched on his face and etched onto my heart | a short story of sorts

my sweet daddy is a very bubbly type of soul, hardly allowing himself to know his own thoughts during the day. he laughs louder than the rest of the crowd around the table of company and is the silliest of the bunch until conversation becomes hushed with awkwardness, and although my cheeks ache with embarrassment during these times, I couldn't imagine him any other way. nor should I ever want to, for that matter. I don't often see daddy as a sentimental sort, although I know he is deep down. as nostalgia quietly creeps over his face, I am silent while I watch the stories of his past unfurl only by the creasing of his expressions. he breaths a few memories, swallows a sob of happy tears and holds my hand a little tighter while he reminisces...

"I still remember when you mother walked up those stairs in the church," he will say. "holding that bouquet of baby's breath." 
"that were shaking ever so fierce," I chime. 
he shakes his head solemnly. "I didn't notice." 
"I remember when I saw you in mommy's arms as she stepped off of the airplane," he says after awhile.
"mmm," is the only thing I manage to say as I study his features. his eyes stare into space. he doesn't smile, but I see the tenderness in his eyes whilst he cradles that treasured memory - one that I imagine has been stored at the back of his mind all this time.
"I didn't even know that you were going to be with her, until I saw you. there was so many weird things that were going on in china at that time." 
he finally looks at me with dazzling eyes. his lips curl into a smile. "and now you're here." 
four words that squeezes my heart with a rush of warmth. I am careful to say anything else tears will surely spill down my cheeks, and it doesn't do to be crying before bed...


Jan 7, 2013

in which trees became strangers and the dust collector, a friend.

heaven knows I could really use a friend. i'd rather waltz than just walk through the forest, trees keep the tempo and they swing in time. quartet of crickets join in for the chorus. if I were to pluck on your heartstrings, would you strum on mine?
i've been longing for, daisies to push through the floor, and i wish that plant life would grow all around me so i won't feel dead anymore
so I won't feel dead in anymore. 
'tis quiet now. christmas has swept its cheer through the house and left pieces behind for us to pick up and reminisce over. the old pine was packed away last weekend along with all its sentimental trifles - the process seemed harder than it was when we put everything up at the beginning of the season. the icicle lights that used to swing happily outside my window have been packed away as well, but I have refused to fold away the string of lights in my room - heaven knows, we can always use a bit of cheer during the depths of wintertime. it was a merry little christmas. quiet and cozy. no fuss but every ounce as special. perhaps, christmas is becoming more and more special as I grow older as I am beginning to make myself realize that not every one in my close future will be spent within the four walls I call home. new years, too, was just as cozy, spent with "by the side" of my faraway friend and welcomed with a toast of sparkling pomegranate cider. 

I can't really put into words how I've been feeling these past few weeks. weariness would not be a fitting description, though much of that has been warded off with multiple cups of tea. my emotions seem to reflect the brumous skies that have been threatening the peace of our little glen, as my teary eyes linger amid the verdure now turning a dull brown. beyond my portal, stubborn autumnal leaves have finally found their resting place as they bury the october sunbeams that once shined on them. my cheery autumn thoughts are buried with them. "so just grin and bear it awhile..." dreams which seemed so firm, so right at the time, have now shattered as easily as glass before my eyes. with my blurred vision, I try to gather the shards to no avail. it has been hard to pick up the pieces and start afresh in this new year, having naught a thought of what to do nor where to go. the trees have become strangers to my lonely soul as the wind combs through their desolate silhouettes. and I've only been left with dust collectors as companions with their open leafs, eager to catch my broken wintry ink spots and bitter-tasting tears...
 -the girl in the garden. 
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