Living in enchanted future

Once again I found myself at the stationnary area of a local book store. Those pretty prints and ribbon tied paper stacks kept calling my name. I ignored them all. Now this next one is harder to ignore. Beautifully bound journals. Romantics, philosofical, funny, work of arts on their covers.  As your fingers touch their covers, your mind are transported to so exciting days ahead. Enthralled, I made promises: I will write my plan in this one – of geometrical art on it’s cover. I will write my adventures. My thought. I will write a moving poem and my first novel. Ahhh what a dream life mine would be. I will write a novel that rivals  Harry Potter, the next Good Earth of Pearl S. Buck. I shall truly live my dream of being a rwiter. My life will be exciting again.

The lure of freshly minted journals of the coming years is intoxicating. And if you get one in July, you will have six full months to have this exciting anticipation while waiting for the coming year. Six full months to have amazing dream and make detail plans.

Meanwhile changing seasons are passing by, and as in my case changing cities too.

From forever summer days of Kuala Lumpur brilliant garden with bloming flowers of such as hibiscus and the water lily:

To colours of the Ohio’s Spring.

I’m already surounded by living inspiration and living the dream life. On the road, meeting loved ones face to face.   And yet imagining writing my future life in that 2012 journal,  included of course: writing a sensational novel seems to be so enchanting. I want this 2012 journal, I feel devoid, incomplete, without it.

This musing bring me to light another habit, of not fully living in the present. Of my tendency past memories. Of over dependency on my camera to capture these memories instead of fully experiencing life as it is. The fact is that so very often, my best moment in life goes (digitally) unrecoded. It is now in my bone, part in what is of my heart. Tears and laughters. These are seeds of my inspiration that brings words to my thought. There is still much to learn to live in the present time. Not just in task oriented mode but truly with heart and mind.

Then perhaps,it is time this first novel gets to be written … starting today. With pen and paper, any paper.

Wishing everyone a fabulous day, from the Ohio Valley.

~Bareheart.

p/s I passed the 2012 journal. My son totally disagreed with me to get one more notebook to write on. Too many already, laying around, mostly with empty pages. Time to start filling them up.

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Practicing saying “Au revoir mon amour”

What better way to say goodbye than saying “Au revoir mon amour” in Paris itself. Not that it matter there was no one to say to, although the Recidence Albert staff were the closest being one. When we came down to get the hot water for our coffee and hot chocolate on the morning we were to depart; the breakfast time was just about over. The lady who was taking care of the breakfast service offered us some croissants, telling us that they were really good. We each took one, with lots of merci. It was really delicious; soft and buttery. What French hospitality to remember! In fact it was not the first time the hotel staff offered us such favour. When we first arrived, it wasn’t yet time to check in. We went to get our lunch and came back at about noon, and it was still early to check in. The lady who was taking care of the rooms though informed the reception that there was a room ready for us. I wanted to give her a big hug. Not sure though if that was the right French thing to do. So we just say thank you very much.

Just saying so 😉

Indeed Paris welcomed us with understated charm. The tourist information personel advised us rightly to take one way ticket from Orly airport to our hotel, as it would be much more expensive to acquire  a day pass that include Orly airport, unless we wanted to travel to ther outer part of Paris as well. We took that advice and also bought a three day city pass. As Montmarte is on the opposite site of Orly Airport, I wonder if purchasing a oneway ticket from Orly to just the inside fringe of Paris city, then continue on by using the city day pass would save us some Euros. As it was, two one-way trip from Orly airport to our hotel and two 3-day city passes cost us 47 Euros. 

Nope. Not the way to carry our luggage.

Paris Metro are all over the place. I don’t remember of any color code (OK – so they were numbered and color coded, only my memory was vague on these). You have to find your destination terminal and find where your trains intersect to go where you want to. In some stations you have to walk a mini underground city to go to your next train. Up down up down thousand steps, stairs. Many times we just sat down on top of these steps or bottom most; with two luggage and two backpacks. Must record many many merci to Parisien Gentlemen who helped us to continue on with our journey. One young man practically carried our luggage from one train to the next one, up and down on stairs, making sure we got on the correct train. He was worried that we could end up on the opposite site of our destination.

Orange umbrella

Color in a sea of gray

Yes. We met many amours in Paris. We don’t have their pictures nor their names but they are the one who will colour our memory of Paris, in briliant hues, and adds to what it all means to be on the road. Au revoir mon amour, for now.

And we will come back again for another visit. InsaAllah.

In state of motion

Light and reflection

Dear readers, welcome to bareheart’s blog. It is about travel, cooking, eating and being together. Most of all it is about living. Mine mostly. Yours; that you have to tell me. It is about growing, getting older, making choices and sharing. A hope too that this be a beginning to some serious writing. Amen.