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. 

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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.