INDULGE

it was a grey november day

when i saw an offer i couldn't refuse

& bagged a room in a plush hotel in our town

for a later date

~ for last weekend to be exact,

to celebrate my husband's birthday,

him

us, 

life together,

life... 

i'd never done this before,

stayed in a hotel in my own town

just for the fun of it,

the indulgence of it. 

a weekend of canapés & bubbly drinks,

swirling velvet stairs

leading to our room 

on the 8th floor.

a weekend of feeling a little frivolous,

and anonymous,

as when visiting a foreign city.

even the streets gleamed in a new light

when we traipsed over to the restaurant

where we had reservations 

two blocks away. 

a weekend of feeling

we could be anyone,

from anywhere,

start over wherever or however we wanted

 ~ that same feeling that has hit me on aeroplanes

ever since i was young kid. 

a weekend of feeling glad for our life 

as we know it right now,

despite the world slipping into the guise of an oyster. 

x

SMOOTH VELVET

Thought I'd share some images

 for Helsinki Coffee Festival from the weekend,

where the ambience was as rich, dark & velvety

as all that freshly-brewed,

carefully sourced coffee.

There's a dose of magic

when people who are passionate

about what they do

unite. 

x

FRIDAY GLIMPSES

Friday is a good day

to finish work early

& trek across town

to visit my dear friend

& her precious baby girl. 

On the way,

picking up some weekend reading

from an alluring newish bookshop,

& a bouquet of Friday flowers

from the smiley ladies

at the corner florist's.

A chill in the air today,

but a sense of s p r i n g... 

or not even a sense,

 the real deal!

Wishing you a sweet weekend.

(p.s. all these were snapped

at my friend's tranquil home

above Helsinki rooftops.)

x

RODIN ON HOLY SATURDAY

Something pulled me out of bed

at the crack of dawn today.

I tiptoed to the kitchen to put the coffee on the boil,

while the others were still fast asleep.

A night owl gets a glimpse

of what it is that

morning people get all jazzed up about.

A walk through a town

adorned with a veil of mist,

music streaming through my ears

- like a promenade in some strange, faraway land,

near enough to utopia. 

Rodin at the art museum.

I'd been saving him 

for the right moment,

a tranquil day

with nothing pulling me away.

His masterpieces,

they creep under the skin,

penetrate the soul,

bring a lump to the throat,

even conjure up images

of pictures I want to take one day. 

Afterwards, the lady behind me in the café queue

gasps that you don't always get choked up at exhibitions,

but this time you did.

Her friend replies that

ye-ep,

sometimes it just depends on the day of the week

or the mood that particular day.

Today, all those pieces aligned,

I think to myself.

Heräsin aamulla kukonlaulun aikaan,

keitin kahvit muiden vielä nukkuessa. 

Iltaihminen havahtuu siihen,

että näissä omissa aamuhetkissä on puolensa.

Kävely halki sumuisen kaupungin

musiikki korvilla

- kuin olisi käyskennellyt vierailla mailla,

lähestulkoon utopiassa.

Ateneumissa Rodin,

jota olin säästellyt sopivaan hetkeen,

toivonut seesteistä päivää,

kun ei ole kiire mihinkään.

Nuo taidonnäytteet tunkevat ihon alle,

syöpyvät sieluun,

kohottavat palan kurkkuun,

loihtivat jopa mieleen kuvia,

joita joskus vielä haluan ottaa. 

Kahvilajonossa joku huokaisee,

että aina ei näyttelyissä pääse fiiliksiin,

mutta nyt pääsi.

Ystävänsä kommentoi,

että nii-in,

joskus se vain riippuu 

päivästä ja omasta mielentilasta.

Tänään kaikki nuo palaset kohtasivat,

tuumaan mielessäni. 

x

UNFETTERED

i had my morning coffee with milk & February sun,

followed by a long walk along the waterfront

- the sea unfettered & free.

freedom,
the  most beautiful word.

x

JUNGLE FEVER

A Sunday walk around the bay,

across a railway bridge,

sounds of the howling sea wind

& screeching train wheels

mingling in my ears.

Suddenly whisked into moist, tropical heat,

my woollen scarf quickly disappearing into my bag,

camera lens shrouded under a veil of vapour. 

Rainforest room,

palm house, 

island room,

Mediterranean room,

waterlily room...

The glasshouses have stood tall

since the late 1800s,

yet it took me this long

to find myself inside

entranced by their wonder. 

Sunnuntaina kävely halki Linnunlaulun,

korvissa vihmova merituuli & junajarrujen kirskunta.

Sisälle trooppisen kosteaan lämpöön,

jossa villahuivi katosi nopeasti laukkuun

ja kameran linssi peittyi höyryverhon alle.

Sademetsähuone,

palmusali, 

saarihuone

välimerihuone,

lummehuone...

Kasvihuoneet ovat seisoneet ylväästi paikallaan 

1800-luvun lopusta lähtien

ja minä päädyin niiden syövereihin

vasta nyt. 

SEPTEMBER SONG

I could burst into song in honour of

September in its gentleness,

golden light,

Damien Rice's music,

long walks, 

moonlight. 

In no particular order. 

Tekee mieli laulaa 

syyskuun lempeydelle, 

kultaiselle valolle,

Damien Ricen musiikille,

pitkille kävelylenkeille,

kuutamolle. 

Satunnaisessa järjestyksessä.