Every weekend a new storm. Every day, constant rain. If it’s not raining, it’s windy. It’s cold. It’s bleak. You doubt if spring and summer really exist, if they’re not just a product of your imagination.
So you stay at home. The only thing you have is a bunch of half faded roses you bought yourself for Valentine’s. At this rate, you’re soon fade too.
Apologies for the terrible purple prose but I’m so over this atrocious weather!
As I say every year, Valentine’s Day is nothing to me. I chose singledom. But it can’t be denied that it offers very aesthetically pleasing opportunities for photography. Or art in general. And stories and poems and songs and important essays about relationships–it’s certainly good for creativity. For better or worse.
You can always be your own valentine if there’s no one else. At least then you don’t have to share any chocolate.
I forgot to share with you that I bought a cactus.
It’s the first plant I ever bought in my adult life. I figured a cactus will be easy to look after. This photograph is two months old but the cactus is still thriving, so at least I know I’m more nurturing than a desert.
I bought a cactus. A week later it died. And I got depressed, because I thought, Damn. I am less nurturing than a desert.
The piece of blue tack is larger than the country on the map.
On another note, about this question I get:
Where are you from?
Yes, I know I have an accent. Believe me, nobody hates that accent more than me. It is not possible for you to be the one who hates that accent more than I do myself. If I could somehow not have that accent, I would not have it. If I could have three wishes from a genie in a bottle, one of them would be to speak like a native English speaker.
Try to have at least one full conversation with a person who has that accent. At least try to find out their name. It’s bad enough feeling insecure about one’s English without you pointing it out. I can’t be the only one thinking that redirecting the topic to one’s country of origin is kinda rude. It’s like interrupting someone–which of course certain demographics are Olympic champions at, don’t we know that.
And btw nobody cares that you once had a friend from somewhere-near-where-the-person-with-an-accent-is-from. Well, I don’t. By all means keep talking about the weather or whatever, it’s more interesting.
So I know it sounds frightfully poetic but I couldn’t think of a better title for the photograph. Although I must say, coming up with titles for my photos and blog entries is half the fun of running a blog.
I saw a picture of red roses and red candles on Instagram, which is where I got the inspiration for this. I happened to have some white flowers and I always have white tea lights and I thought black background would be the best. And so here’s the result.
I don’t know how one of the candles got snuffed out and hence the smoke that can be seen on the below picture.