When the world seems lonely out there and you just want to curl up under a sheet and let time go, to realizing it caught wind of a passerby and stalled. Nothing happens by accident. All have a purpose. One may not know today but in due time it will be self explanatory, a blur, a passing sentence on a embellished article. A story within a story of an interesting journey.
She walked into my office one day and quietly shut the door behind her. She quickly removed her scarf and there, staring at me was a portrait of a beautiful, restful innocent woman, beaming up an alluring smile that not even an artist hand would have carved. Although, she was in her forties, a picture of flawlessness, childlike like calmness, wrinkle free silhouetted face the world wouldn’t dare see, emerged.
We are forever linked to our words. What we say and how we say them. How they are transported and narrated is crucial to our daily existence, eagerly important to our selves as beings. It is the grid that makes us us, the definition of our self selfie, the bicycle that drives self.
Missing Italy. Can’t wait to go back!