Sandra.

I think of your pearls, your golden hair and you manicured nails. I think of your bright, gentle eyes. I think of your denim skirts, and your room on the first floor.
I think of your neatly made bed, your giant chair on wheels;
Your Mac and as a corollary, those reading-glasses that sat at the tip of your nose, while you worked. While you worked.
I think of the oversized oeuvre of Klimt that spanned your wall.
I think of the sparse nature of your room, the couch, the lamps, and the spotless floors-I think of thinking how you kept them like that.
I think of how you brushed your teeth in the CHCI bathroom, during lunch, like it weren’t an oddity.
I think and how you spoke- so fast, so articulate, so strong.
I think of the time you boiled broccoli in a pot, and tapped the lid.
I think of how I felt when I was with you-the amazing fortitude you inspired effortlessly.
I think of your empathy, your lucid eyes that listened patiently while I spoke; every cell of me listening while you spoke.
I think you were Sublime.
You ought to know that.
Thinking of you, Sandra .

A gilded frame for a Starry-Starry-Night
London, 2012

From London, with l

After many many months do I enjoy the silence I’ve created around myself — born of a sudden aversion to conversation. I’ve just sat -recumbent on my chair- and stared out of the window as London illuminates. Descending planes flicker in the blue-grey sky and you come back to me…

The scent of your presence, an aristocratic blend of Chanel Blue and tobacco; the lucidity of your blue eyes. The nape of your neck and how it showed against the collar of a certain grey jumper. The brawn of your arms when you undid the furniture.

Vivid in my reminiscence, I can imagine with certainty how you must have smiled at the stewardess when your plane departed for an Eastern Land. And I wonder if it were a black t-shirt that you wore.

You are (so) irrevocably endeared to me.

A very favourite friend of mine --with a flair for all good things -- made this wallpaper

"Beauty, and the Beholder"

Coffee, Ink, Dried Paints and Eye-liner

April 2011

A Piano

Think of:

A night's unremitting sky,

Like it meant slumber for all--

Okinawa , Moscow and Haiti.

The polar bear and the tropical frog.

Think of:

A river, smiling at a squall;

Elephants (7), along the same river, on walk;

And the stars' twinkles falling--

Placid raindrops.

Do you hear a piano?

I had a poem in mind, but it didn't quite turn out like I had imagined. Leaving that for a better day. Writing to say that I am pretty damn tired of myself, today. Sigh.