I cannot remember the first language my father spoke to me in when I was child and in my growing years. This random thought popped into my mind. And what did we speak of? Was it the importance of education and making the ‘right’ choices? The necessity for a ‘good’ career? The difference of genders?… Continue reading The first language
That Sunday I woke up “naturally” at the crack of dawn somewhat annoyed that I was unable to sleep longer. I decided to laze around with a book before I “surfaced” for an appointment. I then ran some errands at a leisurely pace and the daylight hours passed uneventfully. That evening I was astonished to… Continue reading Daylight hours
What happens when someone leaves? To those left behind, there will be a period of remembering and reflection. News of her passing is no different. She was larger than life, beyond her physicality. The volatility of her words and actions left indelible prints upon the lives of those around her. I was only young when… Continue reading She left
“You’ve got a nice set-up here,” he said walking in. “Yes, I do spend quite a bit of time here, so it’s got to be comfortable,” I said. He gently touched the ornaments displayed, reading the spines of books which caught his attention. It is not often we get these relaxed times together, a sense… Continue reading These things
I am neglecting her. And with this, attendant guilt. Not all the time, just enough to elevate the stress level. I do not believe that I must attend to her all the time, consistently and regularly. But I’d started out with this intention. And the habit had been long ingrained until recently. A new interest… Continue reading Which to honor?
Is what we do meaningful? Do we do things because we believe them to be meaningful, or do we find meaning after we have done them? During my teenage years, I was entranced with Hong Kong entertainer, Leslie Cheung - award-wining singer and actor, songwriter and music producer. One of his films, Farewell, My Concubine… Continue reading Meaning in hindsight?
This poem by Korean poet, Jeong Hyeonjong <정현종> appears in his 2009 anthology, Island <섬>. A Visitor <방문객> To have a visitor is indeed a matter of gravity. For he brings with him his past present plus his future. Brings with him his whole life. Brings with him his heart vulnerable as can be as… Continue reading A Visitor, poem by Jeong Hyeonjong
Stories are everywhere, even on the clothes we wear. Cruising along the highway, for some inexplicable reason, I notice for the first time, these stories. The canvas shoes from a country far away. I shudder recalling the moments after their purchase and their significant impact on my psyche for months to come. The distrust of… Continue reading Story of the clothes
I walked the streets of Rome and Florence mostly alone, spent a bit of time with colleagues (eating is a communal experience), and did a couple of tours with groups of strangers. Oddly it was eating alone that was (relatively) most uncomfortable. Probably because I wanted to order a selection of foods and realized there… Continue reading Travelling on my own
I am pretty lucky. I live close to modern amenities but not close enough to encounter sensory overload. I have flexible work hours. I have the privilege of choosing where I work so long as I get the work done, and how I work so long the work is of sound quality. With relative freedom… Continue reading The luxury of quiet … and choice
I love to travel. For a little while I get to leave my responsibilities behind, at least the mental and physical responsibilities of home-making, making a buck, teenager-care, etc. I seem to have more choice when I travel – when I wake or sleep, what I eat and drink, who I talk to, how I… Continue reading So I travel… to be home.
I fell in love with it on its first release in mid-2000s and it has been with me ever since. The Bulgari “Rose Essentielle” fragrance evoked romance and glamour, and it was a departure from my then attraction to citrus tones. But recently, I decided I needed a change. Why? Just because. It was an… Continue reading Scent and authenticity
I remember a little boy, precocious and mischievous. I can’t quite remember his facial features, but I do remember my feelings of him. Sometimes exasperation, often a challenge because I saw an intelligence and perhaps the need for guidance, understanding and kindness. He was 6 or 7 years old then, and I was in my… Continue reading Before he was a man
Well, I didn’t see this coming. Not so soon anyway. Another change. Another transition. But just another day in life’s journey. I am both glad and sad… perhaps sad is too dramatic. It is certainly poignant. And not for the usual reasons. It is always a thrill to see him exceed my expectations; the determination… Continue reading Walking my talk
I am imbued with a sense of excitement – for you as you go into the world. Beyond adventure and travel, this is symbolic of the independence, the adulthood you are embarking upon. Because I have lived longer years and seen more things that could go wrong than you, I am feeling far less invincible… Continue reading Growing up
I have been doing quite a bit of cooking lately. Not much of a revelation unless you know me well. You will know my self-value is not tied to how well I keep house involving cleaning or cooking – I was brought up to place significance and priority on my intellect and academics. Perhaps I… Continue reading Contemplating cooking…
She is bright… in fact, this is an understatement. Her IQ aside, she has developed a maturity and self-efficacy way beyond her tender years. So when she spoke of writing songs and making music at 10 years old, I was happy to indulge her. She did not jump up and down with the excitement that… Continue reading Her journey begins…
This song popped up on my playlist so I'm sharing it. Returning to 1995...to one of my favourite songs and the soulful voice of Tracy Chapman. ~ FlorenceT © 2017 FlorenceT Copyright reserved. The author asserts her moral and legal rights over this work.
This was purchased from an artist at a local market many, many moons ago... Do you identify? One day, I'll be able to say 'yes' to every one...artist or not 😉 ~ FlorenceT © 2017 FlorenceT Copyright reserved. The author asserts her moral and legal rights over this work.
I crept into the back of the Hall as the speaker began. I had made sure I would be a little late so everyone was seated and facing the stage at the front. I didn’t want her to see me, not quite sure what that reception was to be – pleasure, anger, embarrassment… This was… Continue reading Renewal and inspired, by whom?