I'm Back ( Grateful for Sweet Memories )

Just like that here I am - once again! 👧 I'm back to writing my heart out, simply because I've missed it ever so dearly. 

It's been years and so much has happened, none of which was ever recorded in this site. My bad. 

I wish I did write everything: the good, the great, the silly, the teary, the struggles, the laughs, the sweet darling memories I've accumulated, including these pictures taken in Singapore circa 2018, which is pre - friggin' pneumonia, pre- pandemic, pre - succulent, pre - fresh new book hoarding fever, pre - online shopping madness, and pre - cycling everywhere craze! It was my 50th birthday family trip, and yes, I gratefully remember it well.  

Of course "vlogging" is all the rave today and maybe I'll get there soon - maybe. Then there's "Tweeting" which I never warmed too, but come to think of it, perhaps I was doing it all wrong. 

Oh well, here in this little cyber home, I feel the familiar charm and wonderment that accompanies typing out one's thought as opposed to merely "IG-ing" or "Facebook-ing". There's a cozy feel none of the other platforms possess. 

A bit of dusting needed though - to reflect my current life. The header photo will most likely be replaced by something that shows my current age. I was 48 there and now I'm 53. Big gap, I know.

Anyways, the goal of writing is simple: to record and to inspire. Speaking of inspire, my Lady Prism Sanctuary blog will undergo a fresh update as well. It will house my prayers, devotionals, and intimate studies of the great Saints. 

I hope whoever reads my pages find an Easter kind of joy blossom within their heart and soul. Till later. 💔💓💔

A Fresh Perspective

Years of writing and it never dawned on me till now that I could possibly be doing this blog thing wrong, haha! I never fancied myself a lifestyle blogger - never aimed for that either. I went the path of self - analysis and it's accompanying revelations. I guess, I am at heart, still the academic, zeroing in on internal musings highlighted by cubes of photo portraits that give a simple sense of where I am or have been. 

Going through my mounds of travel photos, eats and coffee hangouts, smack dubbed me with the realization that I am possessed with a plethora of writing cues to dig from. I could have done hotel revs and fancy dining revs instead of just keeping it all neat tucked in my social media FB and Instagram account. 

I could have talked about that lovely great time I had by the Park Royal Clark Quay Hotel pool just lounging on my own and taking in a drink...or that romantic candlelight dinner by the river where the Italian chef asked us if everything was to our liking ..or the beautiful evening boat ride that was short of the memorable moment in my life.

I could have written about the lovely fine dine San Francisco dinner my husband and I had...or the pastries at Mara's Italian place in Little Italy...or that Sonoma wine tasting trip that rendered us both tipsy haha! 

I could have talked about where to eat and where not to eat in Hong Kong,,or how windy it was in Las Vegas...Oh goodness, just a sample! 

Well, it's not too late. Tomorrow I'll start organizing my topics in relation to my health and beauty journey, my travels, my restaurant experiences, my recipes.... I have to say  goodbye to the old style me....This year ushered in a lot of new adventures...new perspectives..the old seem to be fading..away...making room for all the fresh new things life comes a - bringing. 

(✿◠‿◠)The Sunflower Bench✿

Roselle Quin

“Sometimes since I've been in the garden I've looked up through the trees at the sky and I have had a strange feeling of being happy as if something was pushing and drawing in my chest and making me breathe fast. Magic is always pushing and drawing and making things out of nothing. Everything is made out of magic, leaves and trees, flowers and birds, badgers and foxes and squirrels and people. So it must be all around us. In this garden - in all the places.”~ The Secret Garden

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The afternoons are of no use - it rains. It rains - a - lot. No space for garden work during the monsoons when the 'noons are drenched in pettite' pours and shimmie' plops at precisely indeterminate timings. It's here, it's not - simply no telling when the skies will water except that it happens after lunch! --- No, this isn't my garden, heeha! :D

Roselle Quin at Sonya's Garden

These pics were taken last summer when friends and I went 'summering' in Sonya's Garden. A pretty garden to roam in still, but the presence of too much folks, compared to the first I strolled the place, was quite off putting. - Nevertheless, my sweet glams and I  savored the moment spent and had  the time of our lives taking turns photographing each other, haha!

What I adore in Sonya's garden, are the little twisty paths that tempts one to explore. As a profound lover of paths and inner dirt roads be it stone cobbled, pebbled or grassed, these twinee' diversions are lavish enticements to me. 
"Come, take a step, get lost in life and find another," it murmurs. Reality taps on my shoulder reminding, "there isn't time." 

Agh, there isn't time, always the time! I turn to a leaf and instruct it to be till time creates the occasion for another visit. I sit down for one last shot in the Sunflower Bench, a sublime throne of flower power. 

-- An ardor  of petal-ish' joy overpowers my senses.

What a pleasant attack, I feel! 

Nature assaults most  juicily. 

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How To Make a Smashing Week

Roselle Quin photo:
"Tea by the Pool"

Write it on your heart
that every day is the best day in the year.
He is rich who owns the day, and no one owns the day
who allows it to be invaded with fret and anxiety.

Finish every day and be done with it.
You have done what you could.
Some blunders and absurdities, no doubt crept in.
Forget them as soon as you can, tomorrow is a new day;
begin it well and serenely, with too high a spirit
to be cumbered with your old nonsense.

This new day is too dear,
with its hopes and invitations,
to waste a moment on the yesterdays. 

~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Felicitations to a new week! 

My best brightest self welcome's Monday with a favorable juicy feel for the positive. Major compelling realizations have popped and  shape shifted in my mind. I am soaked in plans and dreams and decisions. The heavens will be my guide, my inspiration, my connection. Yes, no  mortal muse can entice me.  My plans are as a big and venturous as never before!

There is work to do, but make no mistake dear me, there is no room for drab or dreary. Labor will be intensive but suffused with relish and recreation. One must be in love with one's work. One must be in love with one's days - the minutes, hours and seconds not left to dawdle by itself - there is harm in that. 

How does one make a smashing week? 

Specially after having dealth with the naughtiness of  past weeks gone? Why,  by blessing the what-not's of  troubles a - visiting and thanking them all for lessons learned, stamina built and new hopes aroused. If it were not for the challenges of the past weeks, I wouldn't have had this vision for a future I desire to experience. I can almost feel it. I am almost there. 

Much to scribble, even more to scrawl and I am compelled to begin. This particular rumination, I bring to conclusion with the burning thought that I should write it upon my heart that each day is the best day of the year. 

Alive. Daring. Brave.

Do visit: Roselle Quin's Fine Poetry

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. 

Manna Bakery and Cafe ~ My Quick Respite

You have no idea, but I was spun strangled in a web of self-made frenzy the past weekend. My bad!

The HUBBY came down with a bone chilling fever that whacked his aching tired body to - the - sole and plastered him poorly in bed. I was vamooshed! Why, goodness, the man rarely ever gets sick, except for the allergies which would sneeze him out every now and then. I'm used to that. He's used to that. The boys have that as well.

Ah, but, other than that, he has the fit and form and heart of an athlete, according to his doc a couple of years back during his yearly executive check- up.. He's mighty proud of this, um, - medically certified - compliment and wears it like a gold star pinned on the lapel of his right psyche.

Day 1 to day 3 was quite toxic with trips to the ER and tests and consultations and tests again ( gad!). It was surreal  for me to have this fitness buff who'd bug me day and out about my - regimen - (hah!), looking buggered down, wan and pithy pale.

"Hey, relax, even Superman gets sick, y' know", he cracked, in a bid to snuff off my funk,  as I stood looking half wit worried down on him at the emergency room bed, feeding him thin wafers of grainy "Skyflakes" biscuit.

The doc pronounced a most likely viral infection, but the danger of Dengue fever couldn't be ruled out ( omg moment!)!  Hence, the meds and daily trip back to hospital for pricks and whatnot' consultations, which vexed him somewhat on the 3rd day of this roundabout', and further to the point wherein he scathingly reviled the bloodsucking routine. 

 Five days later to last night, his platelet count rose to the required healthy level. Thank  gawd!! What a relief for frazzled me. He was able to return to the office today in more or less his usual self.

Yah, well we know something good always comes forth from unexpected gales. Sailing midway through my inner hysteria, I found myself drifted off to a quaint little true bright happiness cafe. I'd say t'was my grace and miracles angels of life taking pity on hapless me.

I entered this little piece of peace and strayed myself half in trance on a corner taking in the  luscious sight of warm brown buns, deftly coiled breads, unmistakable old-fashioned sugar butter cookies - the stuff of my youth - and wicker trays of creamy muffins dotted syrupy red or blueberry-ish blue, and some cheesy too! 

I was swept into a releasing Hallelujah moment and knew then with a ping of exaltation that everything would be OK. Why wouldn't it be, when fate had just ushered me into the sanctum of the sweet Church of Muffins!! 

I - is - sAvEd!! :D

This here's my corner

--> See my bag? Witness the moment I went snappy with my pink partner walking solemnly here and there pondering the merit between muffins. It's no joke to pick one over the other when your mind is suffering from a case of short circuit.

Ditched the idea of muffins, though my eyes were whirled glue on the possibility. Eventually, after sensing the bated breath of the server in front of me, I settled for an exotic sounding "Banhi sandwich". No clue what that was but it sure sounded kinda' hippy, and the chef lady wore a striking fancy uniform which somewhat gave an imposing whiff of credence to whatever she'd make it out to be

Oh, and it was so pretty! All carrots on top, with spikes of radish and greens and orange bits of grilled chicken, haha! It was quite a creative feast ! And yes, it tasted as refreshing and tasty as it looked. Coupled with my rose vanilla tea, it was a bit of  a vacation for my sense. I even had the indulgence to read a chapter while slowly savouring my treat. 

So things are fine and better, with the usual drafty flow of things to do; things that seem to hunt you down and snap at your heels whimpering fix me! fix me! fix me! And so I go for it, all these business that deals with life, knowing that when things get a bit spidery tangled in my thoughts, I have the good propensity of finding quirky snuggly muffin places to center and rebalance and sniff sniff sniff the cinnamon-y scents that make this soul of mine come alive. 

"My Ayala Underground Walkway Fantasy!"

Meeeee' happily posing while hubby took the pic! 

And this is my hubby's back, haha! I luv' the long stretch of the walkway! 

Eeee, yebah (!!), I finally did it, haha! Had my photo taken in the Ayala underground walkway last Sunday. Been inkling to do so like - ever since, but, *shucks*  couldn't. 

This walkway is normally crrrr-a-w-ling on weekdays - business business, y' know. Saturdays too - just people people people! Security guards won't allow photo ops no matter how quickie' (for security reasons they said). 

I was kinda' surprised when once I tried to take a pic of the tunnel and was politely stopped. Another time, I was trying to take a ( really quick- won't bother anyone) snap of one of the cool ads framed on the side, and was once again, advised - not to. I dunno' what's with that, but I was in no' obscene mood to articulate my bafflement while being a dent on the flow of  serious folks walking zippy to where they need to be. Hah, o' but --> NOW, I have my much desired pic, hehehe!

Dunno' why I have a thing for this stretch, like walking old university walls where you feel the soul of you is part of the structure. Maybe, because I've walked this tunnel a zillion times for years and years and years and saw it actually constructed to be - from mud to hollow, to bricks and poles and humongous mixers and all insanity. I remember how inconvenient those days were when the diggings for the projects just started. I remember the warnings, the workers, the sludge sounds and traffic, and the trying to imagine how it's going to look when it finally unveils.  The thought of walking underground was quite a curious novelty way back. 

3 things I luv'' most about this are:
1. The fact that I've often exited on the wrong side of where I need to be.
2. You never know who you'll bump into.
3. Ascending on the "Triangle" side you're received by the street with the sight above - a stretch of green ascending that turns right to a decently expansive park made intriguing by its (airport) history and artfully hailed ancient trees - a bit of an oasis there. I think of it as swimming up from a dusky deep, resurfacing to freshness and light. In a harsh city, this is positive catharsis.

MY fantasy: :D

Think of the whole walk draped in the middle by the swooping drama of long red rolling carpet - end-to-end! In a corner a string quartet playing Vivaldi, or some lilting in the mood melody!

Think cocktail tables - thin round velvet covered stands where folks and friends dressed hippy' nice can settle drinks and chill, talk, laugh. Think little pretty fingerling food!! 

AND -->  but yes, of course, the highlight of it all are my photographs ( and some splotches of my inordinate spurts of art) my very very OWN, (haha!) hanging on the walls serving as deep, riveting conversation pop ups that propel lookers to pontificate on the soulful and political, hahaha!  

Ya, that would be cool! :D 

Snapping out now, hehe! Meanwhile, life calls me to zoom in on what needs to be fixed and done, hurried and musts, right now. so I beg leave of this little space and transport my physical me to my living. I had fun capturing these moments.  It'll be great going back here in this blog of mine, years from now and see the changes of th future compared to what's framed of today. . 

St. Therese ~ A February Devotion

Dear Little Flower, make all things lead me to heaven and God, Whether I look at the sun, the moon, the stars and the vast expanse in which they float, or whether I look at the flowers of the field, the trees of the forest, the beauties of the earth so full of color and so glorious, may they speak to me of the love and power of God; may they all sing His praises in my ear. Like you may I daily love Him more and more in return for His gifts. Teach me often to deny myself in my dealings with others, that I may offer to Jesus many little sacrifices.

Saint Thérèse, the Little Flower of Jesus, please

pick a rose from the heavenly garden, and send it

to me with a message of love.

I ask you to obtain for me the favors that I seek (here mention your request).

Recommend my request to Mary, Queen of

Heaven, so that she may intercede for me, with you,

before her Son, Jesus Christ.

If this favor is granted, I will love you more

and more, and be better prepared to spend eternal

happiness with you in heaven.

Saint Thérèse of the Little Flower, pray for me.

Grace and Miracle, like two winged sweet sister angels of faith have been walking my side since February ushered in. I took no notice till a moment ago when the thought pulsed my mind like a sudden heartbeat.  

I smiled a secret content when it occurred how in constant subtle ways the heavenly realm has been and is ever present around, above, below and within me: in my bleak minutes, in my breaking pains, in my darkest waking being. It draws even clearer as I sit here sensing this startling tactile reality. All my guiding angels are in attendance. 

Love oozing from little gaps between cracks, they're everywhere. There's a certain shine to my days, a sheen, a glitter, a glint and charm.

Grace and miracles...I am lifted! 

♥Fiat Lux ♥´¯`•.¸¸.• ♥L❀VE ♥´¯`•.¸¸.• ♥ •

Catching Light Chasing Shadows ( Lux Lucis Vita )

1-28 2014 Maybe this resonates with you. Maybe it doesn't. A moment when slices of decorous days turn sour and your light within extinguishes itself without apology.

Suddenly, your inner colorful morphs into a mottled palette overnight, a drab washed out lizard salmon of a life. That tempest within, she wakes, cocking what a diminutive dun you are.

Facing shadows - a melancholy one must battle.The past days have been so for me. What was there to do but embrace it. My adoring gratitude goes to the one who is patient and who believes and makes me laugh, until once again I am suffused with the sensation of bright - a conduit to the honest happiness around me. Tis' over. Now, I claim my emergence.

"One need not be a chamber to be haunted...

one need not be a house.

The brain has corridors

surpassing material space."

- Emily Dickinson

Something is happening to me. For weeks on end I am swept over by a sour suffocating smog of the soul. As if my spirit, once blithe and carefree, all of a sudden felt faint weary, begging for rest - that long deep dreamless rest of the ones who sleep. Scares me. 

I am not unfamiliar with my shadow. We are....acquainted.
Once a year I am besieged with an un - s.u.n.c.t.i.m.o.nious vacuum that knifes through my being. A veritable selfishness, sloth and venom of days wherein I pace my dysmorphic earth with hollowness. As if nothing exists and matters. Ghostly. A self satisfied canting of there is no mend. 

End.

I speak to it - at it - my barren shadow. 

Not with fights. Not with accusations. Not with soothing words nor with acceptance. 

Letting it be, I walk it through capturing beams and prisms as light amiably slants through branches, leaves and twigs, settling in streets, lawns and bends. Lucent.

I catch the light 

and I catch it 

and catch it 

and catch it. 

Until captured, the light becomes me,
and becomes me,
and becomes me,
and finally,

becomes me,
chasing my shadow -
away. 

Lux Lucis Vita

CATCHING LIGHT CHASING SHADOWS
( a photo journal - click on the link to view all pictures.)

My Many Many Joys ~ January's Lady Prism Living

I want the joy of simple colors, street organs, ribbons, flags, not a joy that takes my breath away and throws me into space alone where no one else can breathe with me, not the joy that comes from a lonely drunkenness. There are so many joys, but I have only known the ones that come like a miracle, touching everything with light.~ Anais Nin

A quaint quiet moment at home.

Keep track everyday the date emblazoned in yr morning.~ Jack Kerouac

Let me remember you sweet succulent January, not for the swipe of ordinary that wrenched my heart with earthly worry, but for the exuberance of your soft rising mornings, for the kindest' constant dew that misted our mortal mid-day livings, and for the gratifying minutes, seconds, hours tinted with laughter well to the embrace and luscious comfort of your evenings replete with walks under a suede sky speckled with brazen scattered starlights.

Grace and miracles, light and shadows, January was a gift of a month; a collection of days that unraveled in gentle supplication. Like the dream of sweet incoming mountain fog, the spirit of an obliging Janus wrapped me in anticipation, whispering, yes..yes, in your life it is possible to create magic, to manifest desires, dreams and intentions, and to live daily with a cleansed bright aura, if you so do wish. 

And these few chosen pics are but random manifestations of the fun  that presented themselves. What pleasure it gives for me to see them blogged artfully this way. My many many joys.