H. and I are treasure hunters with a habit of wandering through the city sighing. A few weeks ago we arrived late at a church garage sale, only to discover that the splendor of its parks was what we really needed. Have you ever seen blossoms of such a burning pink? We were enchanted and continued to weave in and out of the surrounding streets, ending up at a small wooded park where light pierced the trees and made them glow from the inside out.

(please click to see them large and lustrous)

The electric shocks have started, I can't walk outside without quivering. Everything murmurs breathlessly in my ear.

...for in our gazing lies our truest acquiring. Would to God our hands were as our eyes are: so ready in grasping, so wide in holding, so carefree in letting all things go; then we would become truly rich. But we do not become rich by having something dwell in our hands and wither there: everything is meant to stream through their grip as through the festive gate of entrance and homecoming. Our hands are not meant to be coffins; rather beds in which the things engage in twilight slumber and accomplish many a dream, out of whose darkness their fondest secrecies speak. But the things are meant to wander on beyond our hands, sturdy and strong, and we are meant to retain nothing of them but the courageous morning song that floats and shimmers behind fading steps. For possession is poverty and worry; having had possessed is the only unconcerned possessing.

- Rainer Maria Rilke "Diaries of a Young Poet"

A visit to High Park

♥ Pearl petaled dreams in full bloom
♥ A fallen giant with electricity still running through it
♥ Mansions hiding in jade foliage
♥ Cool breezes rushing down secret paths to meet us
♥ Shadowy apparitions whispering of the eternal sleep

Mail love from V*

♥ Photos of Tomas the wonder cat
♥ Embroidered velvet sleeve
♥ Marie Antoinette box
♥ Rose notecard
♥ Ruby heart pendant

Thank you endlessly, my response is on its way replete with blossoms!

Fountain in Bern Switzerland, 1983.

Sometimes I will spend a whole Sunday at the Reference library leafing through art books that are either too rare or too expensive for me to own. It was on such an occasion that amongst the pages of Meret Oppenheim's catalogue raisonné I found this miraculous entity. I can't get it out my head.