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| Killibinbin Wine Labels |
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| Sicani: Designed by Social UK |
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| Designed by Ned Wright |
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| Inspired by Circus Characters: Designed by Public Creative. |
Friday, March 18, 2011
Beautiful Wine Bottles...
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
A Dance With Truth
Pulled in too many directions in this rather glutenous world
Incessant demands hinder her desire to grow; losing the strength to care
She watches as the sun fades over the ominous landscape of self doubt and uncertainty.
As the moon shines brightly over her, she wonders where she went; plagued with remnants of who she once was
As she appears on the outside, she smiles.
Her eyes however, dance with stories of uncompromising truth
She feels heavy, buried deep within her own blanket of fear
The kind of fear that chokes her; makes her toss and turn in tangled sheets
Incessant demands hinder her desire to grow; losing the strength to care
She watches as the sun fades over the ominous landscape of self doubt and uncertainty.
As the moon shines brightly over her, she wonders where she went; plagued with remnants of who she once was
As she appears on the outside, she smiles.
Her eyes however, dance with stories of uncompromising truth
She feels heavy, buried deep within her own blanket of fear
The kind of fear that chokes her; makes her toss and turn in tangled sheets
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| Photographer Unknown |
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
All is fair in Love and War?
How often in life do we truly take the path we are destined to take? Why does fear and discovering truth hold us back from the desired outcome of pure, unbridled happiness? I once read a quote that "most people would rather be certain they were miserable than to risk being happy." With that being said, why does risk play such a devilish hand in this game called life? Why are we always quick to gamble what is not important, but seize to risk what we GENUINELY find important, such as happiness? Happiness in itself, is a form of courage. It takes courage to turn your life upside down; to make the comfortable uncomfortable. It takes courage to stand on your own two feet regardless of the consequences.
7 months ago I moved 1300 miles away in the pursuit of finding myself and a better life. At the time, my heart was filled with great hope and expectation. My eyes seemingly glistened with possibility rendering me blissfully unaware of reality. I was in love. Moving across the country with nothing but a car full of things, seemed logical. But love has the power to do those things. Love can leave you enticed by the alluring quality of adventure and the search for the "happily ever after." It seeks no demise as you float lovingly to cloud nine unprotected by what could ACTUALLY happen. Promises are made with the expectation that hearts will not be broken. Unfortunately, reality eventually sets in. And just as a storm can wreck havoc on a beautiful day, reality can wreck havoc on love.
To be honest, I can't pin point the exact time and date that I awoke unhappy. In theory, it was probably a million little things wrapped into ONE BIG thing. Stubbornness, I have to admit, is not one of my finer qualities and I have this wonderful ability to bottle every minuscule feeling or emotion up until it boils to the point of combustion. When I burst, there is no telling who will remain a casualty, or JUST slightly injured. I guess, that one heart that I promised not to break, was KIA.
They say all is fair in love and war. But what if the battle lies in love? Do the same rules apply? Are the actions you take "fair"? Like war, someone will lose and someone will win. The process, however, takes on a variety of outcomes. When happiness is the ultimate goal, is it fair to be completely and utterly selfish? Can you break free and FIGHT for what you want even if the other person sustains the wounds of a broken heart? And is it possible for both participating parties to come out alive?
For weeks, I fought. I laid awake restlessly, thoroughly divulged in the battle of my own wits. Like war, my battle with love needed tactic. I needed to evaluate my options and go forth strategically despite my irreparable fear. Fear, for many people, can be paralyzing. It is in the unknown, that we squander and fall victim to doubt. But at that precise moment, being held victim to doubt and fear was something I refused to do.
My world turned upside down. Since I have never been a stranger to adversity, I embraced the tears, lack of appetite, and a checking account balance that was less than desirable. It was then that I realized, that to have everything (including happiness), you must endure having nothing. It is in despair we grow, build character, and become better individuals. With that being said, I have come to believe that with age comes a certain sense of self-awareness and maturity. Although words of my mother echo so quietly in my mind, I can't help but hear my own. Happiness is no longer that of an aspiration but of a lifestyle. I have every reason to be happy, every reason to live the life I aspire to live.
"A truly happy person is one who can enjoy the scenery while on a detour." -Author Unknown.
7 months ago I moved 1300 miles away in the pursuit of finding myself and a better life. At the time, my heart was filled with great hope and expectation. My eyes seemingly glistened with possibility rendering me blissfully unaware of reality. I was in love. Moving across the country with nothing but a car full of things, seemed logical. But love has the power to do those things. Love can leave you enticed by the alluring quality of adventure and the search for the "happily ever after." It seeks no demise as you float lovingly to cloud nine unprotected by what could ACTUALLY happen. Promises are made with the expectation that hearts will not be broken. Unfortunately, reality eventually sets in. And just as a storm can wreck havoc on a beautiful day, reality can wreck havoc on love.
To be honest, I can't pin point the exact time and date that I awoke unhappy. In theory, it was probably a million little things wrapped into ONE BIG thing. Stubbornness, I have to admit, is not one of my finer qualities and I have this wonderful ability to bottle every minuscule feeling or emotion up until it boils to the point of combustion. When I burst, there is no telling who will remain a casualty, or JUST slightly injured. I guess, that one heart that I promised not to break, was KIA.
They say all is fair in love and war. But what if the battle lies in love? Do the same rules apply? Are the actions you take "fair"? Like war, someone will lose and someone will win. The process, however, takes on a variety of outcomes. When happiness is the ultimate goal, is it fair to be completely and utterly selfish? Can you break free and FIGHT for what you want even if the other person sustains the wounds of a broken heart? And is it possible for both participating parties to come out alive?
For weeks, I fought. I laid awake restlessly, thoroughly divulged in the battle of my own wits. Like war, my battle with love needed tactic. I needed to evaluate my options and go forth strategically despite my irreparable fear. Fear, for many people, can be paralyzing. It is in the unknown, that we squander and fall victim to doubt. But at that precise moment, being held victim to doubt and fear was something I refused to do.
My world turned upside down. Since I have never been a stranger to adversity, I embraced the tears, lack of appetite, and a checking account balance that was less than desirable. It was then that I realized, that to have everything (including happiness), you must endure having nothing. It is in despair we grow, build character, and become better individuals. With that being said, I have come to believe that with age comes a certain sense of self-awareness and maturity. Although words of my mother echo so quietly in my mind, I can't help but hear my own. Happiness is no longer that of an aspiration but of a lifestyle. I have every reason to be happy, every reason to live the life I aspire to live.
"A truly happy person is one who can enjoy the scenery while on a detour." -Author Unknown.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Appointment With Love
Before you read this, I would like to say that I did not write this. I actually came across this story as I was rummaging through my journal and was immediately inspired to share it with others. It is a beautiful story and if you are as emotional as I, you will probably cry.
Appointment With Love
By: Sulamith Ish-Kishor
Six minutes to six, said the clock over the information booth in New York's Grand Central Station. The tall, young Army officer lifted his sunburned face and narrowed eyes to not the exact time. His heart was pounding with a beat that shocked him. In 6 minutes he would see the woman who had filled such a special place in his life for the past 13 months, the woman he had never seen, yet whose written words had been with him and sustained him unfailingly.
Lt. Blandford remembered one day in particular, the worst of the fighting, when his plane had been caught in the midst of a pack of enemy planes.
In one of his letters, he had confessed to her that he often felt fear, and only a few days before this battle, he had received her answer: "Of course you feel fear...all brave men do. Next time you doubt yourself, I want you hear my voice reciting to you: 'Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, for Thou art with me.'" He had remembered; and it renewed his strength.
Now he was going to hear her real voice. 4 minutes to 6.
A girl passed close to him, and Lt. Blandford started. She was wearing a flower, but it was not the little red rose they had agreed upon.
His mind went back to the book he had read in training camp. Of Human Bondage, it was; and throughout the book were notes in a woman's writing. He had never believed that a woman could see into a man's heart so tenderly, so understandingly. Her name was on the bookplate: Hollis Meynell. He had gotten a hold of a New York City telephone book and found her address. He had written, she had answered. The next day he had been shipped out, but they had gone on writing. For 13 months, she had faithfully replied. When his letter did not arrive she wrote anyway, and now he believed he loved her, and she loved him.
But she had refused all his pleas to send him her photograph. She had explained: "If you are feeling for me has any reality, what I won't look like won't matter. Suppose I'm beautiful. I'd always fear that you were taking a chance on just that, and that kind of love would disgust me. Suppose I'm plan (and you must admit that this is more than likely) then I'd always fear that you were going on writing to me only because you were lonely and had no one else. No, don't ask for my picture. When you come to New York, you shall see me and then you shall make your decision."
One minute to six...he flipped the pages of the book he held. Then Lt. Blanford's heart leaped.
A young woman was coming toward him. Her figure was long and slim; her blond hair lay back in curls from her delicate ears. Her eyes were blue as flowers, her lips and chin had a gentle firmness. In a pale green suit, she was like springtime come alive.
He started toward her, entirely forgetting to notice that she was wearing no rose, and as he moved, a small, provocative smile curved her lips.
"Going my way, soldier?" she murmured.
Uncontrollably, he made one step closer to her. Then he saw Hollis Meynell.
She was standing almost directly behind the girl, a woman well past 40, her graying hair tucked under a work hat. She was more than plump; her thick ankled feet were thrust into low-heeled shoes. But she wore a red rose on her rumpled coat. The girl in the green suit was walking quickly away.
Blanford felt as though he were being split into two, so keen his desire to follow the girl, yet so deep his longing for the woman whose spirit has truly companioned and upheld his own; and there she stood. Her pale, plump face was gentle and sensible; her gray eyes had a warm twinkle. Lt. Blandford did not hesitate. His fingers gripped the small worn, leathery copy of Of Human Bondage, which was to identify him to her. This would not be love, but it would be something precious, a friendship for which he had been and must ever be grateful.
He squared his shoulders, saluted, and held the book out toward the woman, although even while he spoke he felt the bitterness of disappointment.
"I'm Lt. Blandford, and you -Miss Meynell. I'm so glad you could meet me-may I take you to dinner?"
The woman's face broadened with a tolerant smile. "I don't know what this is all about son," she answered. "That young lady in the green suit begged me to wear this rose on my coat. And she said that if you asked me to go out with you, I should tell you she's waiting for you in that restaurant across the street. She said that it was some kind of a test."
Appointment With Love
By: Sulamith Ish-Kishor
Six minutes to six, said the clock over the information booth in New York's Grand Central Station. The tall, young Army officer lifted his sunburned face and narrowed eyes to not the exact time. His heart was pounding with a beat that shocked him. In 6 minutes he would see the woman who had filled such a special place in his life for the past 13 months, the woman he had never seen, yet whose written words had been with him and sustained him unfailingly.
Lt. Blandford remembered one day in particular, the worst of the fighting, when his plane had been caught in the midst of a pack of enemy planes.
In one of his letters, he had confessed to her that he often felt fear, and only a few days before this battle, he had received her answer: "Of course you feel fear...all brave men do. Next time you doubt yourself, I want you hear my voice reciting to you: 'Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, for Thou art with me.'" He had remembered; and it renewed his strength.
Now he was going to hear her real voice. 4 minutes to 6.
A girl passed close to him, and Lt. Blandford started. She was wearing a flower, but it was not the little red rose they had agreed upon.
His mind went back to the book he had read in training camp. Of Human Bondage, it was; and throughout the book were notes in a woman's writing. He had never believed that a woman could see into a man's heart so tenderly, so understandingly. Her name was on the bookplate: Hollis Meynell. He had gotten a hold of a New York City telephone book and found her address. He had written, she had answered. The next day he had been shipped out, but they had gone on writing. For 13 months, she had faithfully replied. When his letter did not arrive she wrote anyway, and now he believed he loved her, and she loved him.
But she had refused all his pleas to send him her photograph. She had explained: "If you are feeling for me has any reality, what I won't look like won't matter. Suppose I'm beautiful. I'd always fear that you were taking a chance on just that, and that kind of love would disgust me. Suppose I'm plan (and you must admit that this is more than likely) then I'd always fear that you were going on writing to me only because you were lonely and had no one else. No, don't ask for my picture. When you come to New York, you shall see me and then you shall make your decision."
One minute to six...he flipped the pages of the book he held. Then Lt. Blanford's heart leaped.
A young woman was coming toward him. Her figure was long and slim; her blond hair lay back in curls from her delicate ears. Her eyes were blue as flowers, her lips and chin had a gentle firmness. In a pale green suit, she was like springtime come alive.
He started toward her, entirely forgetting to notice that she was wearing no rose, and as he moved, a small, provocative smile curved her lips.
"Going my way, soldier?" she murmured.
Uncontrollably, he made one step closer to her. Then he saw Hollis Meynell.
She was standing almost directly behind the girl, a woman well past 40, her graying hair tucked under a work hat. She was more than plump; her thick ankled feet were thrust into low-heeled shoes. But she wore a red rose on her rumpled coat. The girl in the green suit was walking quickly away.
Blanford felt as though he were being split into two, so keen his desire to follow the girl, yet so deep his longing for the woman whose spirit has truly companioned and upheld his own; and there she stood. Her pale, plump face was gentle and sensible; her gray eyes had a warm twinkle. Lt. Blandford did not hesitate. His fingers gripped the small worn, leathery copy of Of Human Bondage, which was to identify him to her. This would not be love, but it would be something precious, a friendship for which he had been and must ever be grateful.
He squared his shoulders, saluted, and held the book out toward the woman, although even while he spoke he felt the bitterness of disappointment.
"I'm Lt. Blandford, and you -Miss Meynell. I'm so glad you could meet me-may I take you to dinner?"
The woman's face broadened with a tolerant smile. "I don't know what this is all about son," she answered. "That young lady in the green suit begged me to wear this rose on my coat. And she said that if you asked me to go out with you, I should tell you she's waiting for you in that restaurant across the street. She said that it was some kind of a test."
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| A Collection Of Love Letters |
Friday, February 18, 2011
And I Thought Christmas Was My Favorite Holiday...
Today is National Wine Day! So please, by any means, go buy a bottle of your favorite red or white and celebrate the holiday! HAPPY WINE DAY TO ALL MY HAPPY HOUR READERS!
And to celebrate...some words of wisdom from wine-o's like me...
"Wine is a living liquid containing no preservatives. Its life cycle comprises youth, maturity, old age, and death. When not treated with reasonable respect it will sicken and die."
- Julia Child
"Writing in my sixty-fourth year, I can truthfully say that since I reached the age of discretion I have consistently drunk more than most people would say is good for me. Nor did I regret it. Wine has been for me a firm friend and a wise counsellor. Often...wine has shown me matters in their true perspective, and has, as though by the touch of a magic wand, reduced great disasters to small inconveniences. Wine has lit up for me the pages of literature, and revealed in life romance lurking in the commonplace. Wine has made me bold but not foolish; has induced me to say silly things but not to do them."
- Duff Cooper, "Old Men Forget"
A wine critic was sitting at his typewriter & writing a wine review: 'Now this is an amusing little Chardonnay... with a surprisingly perky personality, until it is consumed in large quantities, at which point it seems to display some alarming emotional problems.'
And to celebrate...some words of wisdom from wine-o's like me...
"Wine is a living liquid containing no preservatives. Its life cycle comprises youth, maturity, old age, and death. When not treated with reasonable respect it will sicken and die."
- Julia Child
"Writing in my sixty-fourth year, I can truthfully say that since I reached the age of discretion I have consistently drunk more than most people would say is good for me. Nor did I regret it. Wine has been for me a firm friend and a wise counsellor. Often...wine has shown me matters in their true perspective, and has, as though by the touch of a magic wand, reduced great disasters to small inconveniences. Wine has lit up for me the pages of literature, and revealed in life romance lurking in the commonplace. Wine has made me bold but not foolish; has induced me to say silly things but not to do them."
- Duff Cooper, "Old Men Forget"
A wine critic was sitting at his typewriter & writing a wine review: 'Now this is an amusing little Chardonnay... with a surprisingly perky personality, until it is consumed in large quantities, at which point it seems to display some alarming emotional problems.'
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Kaleidoscope
The truth is, I haven't been able to write. I have sat down many times in the last two weeks and scribbled down words on a piece of paper but nothing seems to make sense. Although my mind encompasses many thoughts and emotions, I feel as though I am looking through a kaleidoscope of confusion. The imagery of life, love, and heartbreak blends into a crystal-like illusion that my mind continues to spin and turn. The illusion however, seizes to produce the desired portrait. Confusion, I am learning, is a torture device for the indecisive.
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| Created by Patrick Hoesly |
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