Singapore Trip and The Great Shout Out for Inspiration

Roselle Quin's Slidely Gallery by Slidely Photo Gallery

If Slidely folds up I am so - ahem' - screwed. I've been posting slides for months now, and if for any  reason Slidely decides to bid adieu, then, alas, all my dazzling posts will be bereft ( as in VOID) of glamour pictures, haha!  And -- the posts hardly make a dent without the visuals, aiks!

Ah, gad, here I am once again worrying, worrying, worrying about anything and everything! It's a grand past time of mine lately, the worrying thing. You name, I'l worry about it! I'm not so batty tho, as I still have a third of my innate sense of humor intact - at least I think so.

In fact, I was over at my SWEET SEMANTICS  blog, chatting it up a bit because that site, wow, it's gone stale! The page is all but a dormant volcano left to snooze for 10 centuries! Strangely, writing there  gave me a surge of typing inspiration which  coursed  through my fingers. Here I am therefore, blabbering and calling out to my writing angels and muses for a much needed and desired visitation.

Oh, my dearest writing angels and muses, come to me, as I desperately  want to revive my writing stamina! I want want WANT my blogging(s) to be more alluring, more....magnetizing...more charismatic...more revealing and connecting. I need to resurrect my sense of semantics and my deep passion for stringing words and offering it bravely to the world!  

Now, about my head tensions, they have eased somehow. For this I am wholeheartedly grateful to our dear Lord and all heavenly divine friends. There is a more "normal" feel to my entire being - more specifically the past days.  I believe I'm getting there. There being the feeling of being entirely, completely healthily my old/new self.  I feel saner, lighter, stronger.

My anxiety  attacks brought about by lingering ails' are quiet and pacified. I am happier...happy enough to get back to my artistic endeavors with renewed vigor. Two dolls are in the making. They are ever so sweet, and I am excited to post about them - very soon.

It Only Takes One Star: Persistence

Roselle Quin ~ "Afternoon Tea at The Shang" 

September seems to be a month of recurring challenges. The first week alone saw a trip to the hospital with the hubby slumped in a bout of nasty flu. Sporadic allergic feelies' have descended on me after that episode - not surprising - the onset of the "Ber"months have always been a pesky trigger to my seasonal rhinitis. Agh' just talking about this makes my left eye spasm and twitch! Thank goodness I don't feel as weakish' - I remember years  ago how frighteningly soggy'I  went, half breathing, wheezing and teary  red eyed  from inhaling.  ------ I've been dawdling with a low'vibe energy these last few days; a trailing elk'from the nasties'. Good to know, 'cause at least I'm  much aware that this'ill - turn 'round pretty soon. Meanwhile, I'm doing my bit to carry me out of this stupor, First thing is to reminisce on happy occasions represented by these pictures here. Been awhile since I've done something this dainty cute' involving violins and mini conciertos'..I could, in fact, I probably should,   to get me'self tuned up. I will.

"It only takes one star to pierce a universe of darkness."

~ Richelle E. Goodrich

Roselle Quin ~" Afternoon Tea at The Shang"

Right now tho'there are  things I need to 'start'and follow up and put in order and launch. A myriad mix of the mundane and exciting. There's nobody to do the WANTS I want done , so I'm counting on me', the Holy Mother and St. Therese in petitions to the dear Lord. 

If I get on the move, I'm up for little victories, Victories, whatever scale deserve sweet cute celebratory whoohoos' and that's where the plans come in. Oh, I need my quirky rosie' imagination to get me going. It's all grey in me right now - but as they say, it only takes one star to pierce a universe of darkness.  And you know me....ever always all about the shine. 

Remembering Persi

Like my hands were hogtied and my cute floaty cells braided into humidity frazzled strands of exclaiming question marks. I'm saying it's been a very VERY - infinitesimally -> very long time since I was last seriously here. Pictures are from a light year ago left marinating in juicy tenderness of blog blandness. 

     I've been to cute corners of my life's here and there since I last hitched this site,  none of which have seen the spotlight of a post. BUT, no worries, my alternate me, (hehe!) because your's  truly intend to flower power this oh' too quiet corner. There's about half' a dozen drafty' writings in the dungeons on hold, and, yes, I do intend to allow them  the light of day.

Persi staring at me. Ya' should've kept to my good side! 

Meanwhile I take high sweet pleasure in pics of last year's flowers, vased on top of last year's white decoupaged table top, which I gave away to our trusty' village handyman. And the cat picture above is "Persi"..who left me one morning never to return again. I still don't know why he did that. To be honest, I'm hurt, quite slighted and a little bit hoping.

He was the epitome of persistence which earned him the name, Persi as a fur ball teenie.  I never do allow garden cats inside the house, mind you, but noh, this little black creature would claw and paw and bawl whinny screechie' lamentable meows behind my closed screen door until the drums o' my ears bled bad and I've endured enough insane ruckus. His royal kitty' cuteness had the run of my house, climbing here, crawling there, nuzzling asleep wherever he wanted to. 

He would never  leave my side. That is,  until a stranger cat, huge and imposing and quite dramatically roughed up  enough to possess a touch of that street Puss n' Boots' type. 

Well, this villainous character came a'visiting often enough, more frequently when I wasn't around to shoo his tail off. I noticed how he'd  walk into the gate with a mastered  swagger, giving sly put down glances on Persi coupled with the under breath of that slow grating moewrrr hiss of his...Most likely he bullied and teased how such a sissy Persi was all clean and pampy inside a proper boring house, when the streets are action filled and food is a' plenty. Alley living on the edge is what a true cat's life is, I bet he mocked and enticed.

I sawPersi walk off with the scheming feral Pied Piper Tom cat soon after, nary a glance back, never to be seen, heard or found again. 

There must be about 30 something black cats in the neighborhood,  more than half a dozen a true Persi doppelganger. 

Whenever I'd come across one, I'd halt my steps and stare into the cat's luminous eyes, much to the poor creatures bewilderment. I must look quite the fool, so I make sure no one is around when my sleuthing kink kicks in. I do so want to know where he wandered to but all points lead to nowhere, tsk! 

Life has given me 2 new garden cats to pamper. They were both born in my garden so I'd say nature has an uncanny way of plopping creature responsibilities on me. A man I hired to tidy the garden suggested that if I starve them enough they'd move away. A horrid idea, and I had to kindly show how mortified I was by reminding him that I had a pulse..and heart! Plus, brains.

And thats THAT about cats fer' now. 

 Meanwhile, I'm posting this old pic below to remind myself that I luved' this book. Must dig out from my now cluttered cabinet of books and re-read again. I've done some book shopping a week ago. Me' thinks my collection now rounds up to 270 + and so. 

Bodhiccita Lady ~ Mindful Realizations To a Path of Bliss

Roselle Quin

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Bodhicitta, mindful & ripe with the juiciness of awakened existence, is a semantic energy I hooked from a Buddhist book my husband recently gifted me. The concept of going through life's motions in meditated movements dedicated to the conscience of lifting every act holy for the good of "one, some and all" is very precise in its Christian notion of renunciation... of "doing unto others" and offering unto God all the dutiful, mundane tasks that at times even inwardly cause suffering. So injected I am with this crystalline intention, that a seizure of illumination zipped through my spinal consciousness - A life of Dharma - spiritual purposefulness for the whole of the Sangha - the community.

Bodhicitta is pineapple for the soul,  spiritual saccharine that oxidizes our inner being with scentsy wisdom pulps, venturing us to live in this earthly plane on higher ground! All actions, however simple, however ordinary, however piddling becomes a stepping stone to N-I-R-V-A-N-A if consummated through  gratitude and generosity. The whole of man's existence becomes suffused with majesty & regal with meaning -- the meaning one endows by the charity one  devotes to all sentient beings.

For what is heaven, but the state of being free, truly free from ignorance and loathing! Hate is vulgarity of living, while Heaven is to exist in uncomplicated rapture - easy joy - metta.  "For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking, but of righteousness, peace and joy,"  Romans 14:17 ~  To be in bliss is to live sane, and to be joyful is to ascend as a supreme being walking in the divine ground of existence ( streets of gold), released from the bondage of an odious ego. To be enlightened is to be a child of God. Venerable.

Our destiny is not far yonder a mythical physical material hope in an afterlife of moneyed riches, but the attainment of a present  imperturbable stillness of mind after the hell fires of intemperate desire, aversion, delusion have been extinguished.

I have much to work on to be what I want but inspiration has spoken.

This quote inspires me:

We need to transform our mind, to rid it of ignorance, hatred and attachment. Transforming our mind means that even if we are in a very difficult situation or place, as long as our mind is happy, everything will be fine.~ Namdrol Rinpoche

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And my life? Well,  let me see...I have no excuses! None at all! 

I have to live my life from the abyss of my crystal soul and not chipper away the bright bits of my spirit for no account at all but procrastination + fear. Hell of a combination, hah! My Lady Prism me has morphed into a tangle of ta' - do's and must- do's and have - ta'- do's and have - ya' - done - it, and not yet done, and be done with it and do more today, dammit!  A ballistic tornado days spent desperately tidying rogue minutes and batty seconds while keeping groggy' monkeys of distraction and anxiety at bay till I succumb to impatience, frustration and a tear of vexation. 

Too much to do, there just isn't time to create, to paint, to go to that pottery class, to take the beaded workshop, to meditate, to study alchemy, to wish, to dream, to spew magic, to nuke a spell.
                                                                I am a  litany of excuses.  This is my tale. Woe is me! 

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Not very Disney, noh? I mean, my tale. Nothing very fairy about it. But I'm  done with all the this shindig drama I've heaped on myself and taking my Honey Doo's advice to --> chuck it. Stop hogging'  everything and get on with what you want, he always would remind me. 

There's always the "do wants" for me, I figure, maybe before I unfold the new longings of my soul,  I need to specify what exactly --> I don't want.

I DON'T WANT

1. I don't want to be busy picking up other people's mess, whoever they are. 

2. I don't want to feed other people's monkeys.

3. I don't want to pet other people's monsters of complaints, expectations and distractions.

4. I don't want fear of what other's may say or how I'm viewed or perceived define me.

5. I don't want to starve my creative soul. No. 

I WILL NOT BE DISTRACTED BY NOISE, CHATTER AND SETBACK. I KNOW WHAT I WANT AND IT'S ALL MINE. 

WHAT I DO WANT

I want to --> not be shy.  I want to --> not be tepid, lukewarm, unsure, awkward. 

 I want to --> not see cracks, limits and impossibilities. I want to --> not be swayed towards accepting baggage heaped on me. I want to enjoy - period.  I want to accept my radiance and take relative good care of myself without trepidation or vanity. I want wisdom. I want to nurture and feed my talent. I want to give expression to my inner spirit. I want to be gallant towards my body respectful of my feelings. 

And why do I want all these? 
Heck, I want it all because my greatest wanting is to GIVE! 

And so that's that..and this is this..and I thank the Divine for these spanks of wisdom plunked in my cerebral. A bit of shaking and sweet thumping from heaven's nirvanic realm, reminding me to take charge, get my Bodhi selfie groove in loop, and walk my bliss. Nothing less. 

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Those who haven’t yet given birth to precious Bodhicitta,

May they give birth,

Those who have given birth,

May their Bodhicitta not lessen

but increase further and further.

~ His Holiness Gyalwang Drukgpa

Chimes, Charms, Enchantment

“One ought, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, 

and, it were possible, to speak a few reasonable words.”

~ Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe 

These photos are so February 2014!
 They've been lounging in my archive, waiting...waiting ever so patiently for me to write something and launch the post. Alas, days went by, and months, then life morphed into a maze of this and that, which rendered this blog buried in publish neglect. sad.

The Hubby and Me - enjoying our pose! 

Looking at these pics, you'd think I was the queen of high spirits, hah! 

Quite frankly, yes and even more bluntly, no! The prime truth of the matter is, these photos represent ooooh, snarky sobby' trying days rife with challenges and changes and not knowing what the future holds, what the next step would be, what to, where to, whatever! 

Life was a cliffhanger...SMILE! 

But the Divine was at work ( uuh' yah! ) and threw us an unmistakable thump to dress up swank and parteh', inspite of! Yes, inspite of sullied circumstances having been acquainted with folks less than honorable with their dealings. 

Ah, one must dig the grandest measure of  good out of a decrepit situation, wisen up like the evening owl, and brave forth like the most majestic of eagles ( drama!). 

Why the heck pout and gripe when all things are but temporal, even the muddled. These are the good old' days being ushered in! Welcome it! 

Cliffhouse, Tagaytay, Philippines

My youngest son with me.

And so we did!  In style! 

I donned my creamy favorite vintage dress ( + my grand brown hat too, let's not forget!), genuinely celebratory and thankful for the beautiful scenery, the wonderful people, and the glorious food!  

It was a sparkling time and I was touched by a serene spirit whispering, it was Valentine's Day, things would be OK. 

My eldest son.

That was way back February, cupid's shinning star moment of love. weddings, chimes, charms and enchantments that glistened the succeeding months of working situations with a smidgen of luck linked into one another, until here I am and here we are, in the future I was merely trying to picture back then! 

So let me see, what's there to learn:

1. Be calm. Inspite of trying times. Be calm. Calm is insight. Calm is wisdom. 

2. Present your best. Your best brings about solutions.

3. Enjoy. Even in the middle of muddles, life gives permission to laugh and be merry. It is essential to sanity.

"There aren't any shortcuts to tomorrow, you have to make your own way.To know where you're going is only a part of it.You need to know where you've been, too.And if you get lost, don't worry.The people who love you will find you. Count on it."  ~ Quotebites

Balducci Ristorante, Here's My Story: About the Blue Dress Too!

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Will I find myself back to Balducci? Like - ever? Maybe not. Or..maybe yes..hmmm...but most likely NOT. Balducci and me, we have no...none of the sparks between us. Nobody's fault, mind you.

It was a late Saturday evening and the skies poured gregariously. The rain, let me tell you, it was beautiful that night - not at all rat dreary or gutter dreadful. Instead, the falling drench silver glistened our evening streets with a kind of filmy sheen that reflected the warm golden glow and shadows of streetlights and city cafe's. It was an incandescent sight, a bit..what's the word...NOIR!! 

Feeling the "passion" at Lartizan Boulangerie Francia

Roselle Quin

 Passion is vigor for life. The more you have, the more you get. None of us can afford to let life get boring. That starts a downward spiral of passionless living: no interest, no energy, no youthfulness. The most obvious example of passion is the romantic kind. People smitten with true love ( or what seems like true love at the time) are different creatures, whether they're seventeen or seventy when cupid comes calling. Life takes on a new finish: glossy instead of matte. Having a passion for life or anything gives us a similar glow. ~ V. Moran

                                             OK enough of the mush mush because this chandelier 'ere --> totally rocks the mood! 

I lurrrv' the place!! Who wouldn't, eh? Cream and rose velvet and soft inspired lights swiped in unobtrusive refinement... And fine linen..the linen which I messed up with a splat of gravy, hehe!

Ah, this has got to be my new fave of faves, Love, .....swoon..swoon....the dot inside the enchanted circle of my brain - the *rose* among the roses, a poetic marvel of a place, my friend,  where you can fun pretend to be lost in Austen or a bit drunk in Downtony' fantasy...a Lady Mary Crawley sort of feel. :D

The ambience is cherry hush sweet, as if the very bubble  between air one sniffs was fathomed from flesh diamond bouquets of cultured crystals. Just imagine coming in from the smelly belly of the underworld into pure ethereal lightness..you sink on a plush pink blood chair and there you are - alive, relaxed, transported. 

In this mortal plane we inhabit, there are to be discovered, if you will it enough, levels and steps, paths and corners, nooks, and crannies, spaces and rabbit hole roundabout portals to a peek of heaven. This place is one of them. 

It was a Saturday lazy afternoon and we were actually at the shop next door contemplating a dinner of grilled squids and clams after a rather lengthy highbrow discussion about life -- not ours, but of "Hannibal's" - the conqueror!

Anyway, before Hannibal could cross the Alps  and present himself to the hapless folks of far yonder, who apparently, thought him the god Hercules (something like that), my itching curiosity got the best of me and in a second's lull, excused myself and made a lickety- split to check out the dreamy lights + menu next door. 

It was deeeeelightful!!! 
I was smitten by everything I saw and went tripping back to report my discovery to the Hubs. 

Well, you know how I can sometimes be, eh? So I  hyperventilated the awesome of every slightest cutesome corner I saw, excitedly guzzling ooh' ahhh' the smell, the color, the touch of my discovery, while at the same time truly settled for a night of what we had originally planned. 

However, the Hubs, probably brain spiked with my high tweaked blubber, insisted that we forget the clams....and follow "my heart"... aww... :D 

Lartizan Boulangerie Francia for a pastry shop is mythically fabulous! Enchanting! And I don't think I've seen such all out smiling attentive waiters for a long while - waiters who seem to have imbibed a drugged substance of patience as I deliberated ( lengthily...back and forth..like a 3rd grade who can't crack fractions...) on choices. 

Coupled with the romantic interior, splendid breads and exquisite pastries on the counter, and  capped with a decadent line of chi chi sounding  menu, the evening was made for a splendid gustatory experience.

We went in for a simple but delectable serving of ravioli and this generous plate of roast chicken. The bread sampler basket was royally piled with choiced slices from their bakery. 

This is quite the full dining interior. It was an early dinner so we had the luxury to choose our table.

I love the warm inlaid brick interior which  lent the place a homey artisan atmosphere. The chairs, as you can see, are deep red beautiful and such a cushiony pleasure to sink into. 

(And the Hubs, waiting for the coffee and tea selection. )

It is with gratefulness of heart and soul that I write down this memory of a night. An evening of evenings I'd constantly remember as the years flitter on and on and on.

 I'd like to end this post with a feathered line of poetry from Elizabeth Barrett Browning which goes....

“I would build a cloudy House

For my thoughts to live in;

When for earth too fancy-loose

And too low for Heaven!

Hush! I talk my dream aloud -

I build it bright to see, -

I build it on the moonlit cloud,

To which I looked with thee.”

Book Luvin' on a Weekend Morning!

Tired trying couple ov' weeks gone past with everything churning in a melange of never ending "to do". Life itself was a fairytale gone twisted with the ends of my mind mostly curled in dumb disapproval. I resembled somewhat the fox or - the wolf ( big and bad) - who huffed and puffed and blew the hut ( or house, or cottage) away. Only, dear me, I didn't manage to blow anything away - except rivulets of my patience and cubes of my mushed sanity. 

Meeeeh!!

So enter my staycation relax solutions!

Bright spot of those days were stolen moments immersed in two glorious books; one gifted, the other a precious endearing BookSale ( that means thrift!)  find  I love, love, love it when my eyes and hands trip on a keeper of a book tucked away above, underneath or in between piles of pre-loved literary goodies!

My Secret Keeper book ( by Kate Morton) is that sort ov' find! Fabulous  portrait cover! And after  inspecting every corner, and after scanning what it was all about, I knew for sure I had a winner of a read in my hands -  a premium deluxe possession, a sparkling jade of a second hand book. Seriously, this must cost ten times more in our pricey bookshops.

Agatha Christie - Inspector Poirot  mysteries are a fancy to me  so you can just imagine how my eyes bulged rounded when I got to the part where a young lady witnessed an act of  the sublime -- tragic of tragics! Yaiks, I think that  spurt reads bad, haha!

No,  I'm not a sucker for tragedy, nor do I live wit a hidden fetish for misfortune, but when dire circumstances of a plot are weaved in passionate telling, my interest is delightedly piqued.

This is what it's all about straight from the pretty flap:

During a summer party at the family farm in the English countryside, sixteen year old Lauren Nicholson has escaped to her childhood tree house and is happily dreaming of the future. She spies a stranger coming up the long road to the farm and watches as her mother speaks to him. before the afternoon is over, Laurel will witness a shocking crime. A crime that challenges everything she knows about her family and especially her mother, Dorothy. Her vivacious, loving, nearly perfect mother. 

And if sixteen year old Laurel has her tree house,  I, on the other hand have my hideaway for quiet reading moments, undisturbed and basked in solitude, just the way I like it!

Tdaaa'...lady prism moments... :D

MY GOLD GREEN MORNING

This was a day I woke in the morning and everything was all o' right with the world! We have those days don't we? Like a precious gift of a jeweled day tucked inside a small velvet box meant for one desired with the deepest truest love, a day as such it was. My heart was pumping bright sparks of positivity and my eyes could see no ill save all the beauty -

so I put on my running shoes and had a quick rounda'bout run and stopped here and there to snap here and there hoping - wishing to capture all the fresh green haze caught in my eye, for it was a delight to be in the company of  the spirit of the trees both grand and enchanting bonsai. 

╭•⊰✿¸.•*ღ "I am a mortal enemy to anything but a cheerful countenance and a merry heart, which, Solomon tells us, does good like a medicine."ღ

~ Abigail Adams

How I wish to give this justice, but mere me with my pink box of a camera tried our hippest best, to no avail. I could have done better, I suppose if I had more- talent.  Neverthemind, I am held most captive anyway by the sublime peaceable energy permeating the morning - of calm and serenity and well-being. 

The earth has music for those who listen, and yes, that day I was listening all eyes and ears and pores

And felt a bit of Sylvia Plat in her intense inspired moment - “I felt my lungs inflate with the onrush of scenery air, mountains, trees, people. I thought, "This is what it is to be happy.” 
No mountains here for me, but all these gold green pings the thought --> what makes us happy? What indeed? Isn't that the question of questions? What makes us happy? There are moments that give a sportive answer. 

The tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the eyes of others only a green thing that stands in the way. Some see nature all ridicule and deformity... and some scarce see nature at all. But to the eyes of the man of imagination, nature is imagination itself.” ― William Blake

 

“The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quite alone with the heavens, nature and God. Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be and that God wishes to see people happy, amidst the simple beauty of nature. As longs as this exists, and it certainly always will, I know that then there will always be comfort for every sorrow, whatever the circumstances may be. And I firmly believe that nature brings solace in all troubles.” 

~ Anne Frank