six words {abandoned}

change leaves fall colors walls abandoned

photos : by c




p.s. my sister came up with a name for her long long long-awaited science blog. yes, just this week. more on that to come. and on the newspaper i've been creating with the kids, we're about to publish the second issue. and more info on everything else too. and yes i know i've disappeared... but not completely-- x c

scribbling what i know

scribbling words spilling coffee cleaning up my messes scribbling coffee spilling poetry on napkins. i write.
leaving traces of haiku on scraps of paper everywhere and working with young writers inspiring them through their own words



photos : by c

my haiku blog : chandeliers on the floor
my new and old photos (suburban dust / parisian stuff / etc.) : flickr
in the words of my students : writing from the rooftops

happy 1er mai and bon week-end

ahhhhh the days when i was young and free in paris {haha, uh...about two years ago} i loved 1er mai. it usually rained {hey paris in the spring} but everyone had the day off which meant that the night before was an extra night to go out to some soirée until the wee hours when april turned softly {or often, not so softly} into may........

then in the morning {when i was on my way home, ahh to be young again...haha} and all day long, vendors would sell {they still do, i'm just not there, so i'm using the past tense to capture the bitter..sweet... nostalgia that sets in for me...and in case you didn't sense it, that was purposefully overly dramatized, perhaps on account of the amount of coffee i've had thus far today...but nevertheless...back to my musings..}

vendors stand about the streets selling small bouquets of the precious lily of the valley {en francais: muguet} that friends and family exchange on 1er mai. {certain people close to me at the time weren't french and were rather oblivious to this amazing tradition, and thus every single year, i'd have to nudge and hint and finally say, "get me some of those flowers on your way home" well, it always worked, quand meme}

so anyway, just wanted to quickly post these longings before running off to press the coffee that's been sitting in the pot for far too long already.........yes, more coffee.

et s'il te plait, get me some of those flowers on your way home. merci.

bisou bisou ♥c

sunglasses on, darkness, fioricet, water, coffee..

© Eni Turkeshi Photography

that headache that i mentioned yesterday turned into a migraine before i was able to drive home from what could have been an enjoyable evening in the very warm spring night air with a very warm algerian. not sure how i squinted past the streetlights and through the stoplights enough to drive home, but i'm here. been in the dark ever since. and thus, for the time being, my post for today will be simple with a rather appropriate blurry image {colorful for those of you who aren't sitting in front of the computer with big dark sunglasses on, as i am!} et voilà ...i'm delighted to share another of eni's photographs. enjoy! and please check out her flickr...

ok. to bed.

haiku before the weekend..

image

i sip my coffee
sit before this screen as if
nothing had happened

write now..

i'm sitting in the cafe where i meet the girls who i tutor in writing. both of the girls i worked with today never fail to inspire me in numerous yet different ways. first i worked with olivia who i somehow managed to persuade into agreeing with me that haiku was not boring "but i hate haiku" but actually fun..or at least it is when you sit on a couch in a cafe and write it with me... {will post some of our haiku next.} *O* as we call her by pen name, literally gets bursts of instantaneous inspiration. today she blurts out in the middle of our haiku fest "hang on i have an idea for a poem i need a piece of paper quick!" waits impatiently as i tear out a piece of paper for her and search for a pen, and within 2 minutes, had scribbled down a poem. she's done this in the past, written impulse poems of revelation, but this one blew me away:

the one you love

the one you love
could be right
around the corner

the one you love
could be right
across the street

the one you love
could be right
at your feet

when you find them
you may feel
complete

by,
*O*

{written in approximately 2.5 minutes}

i quickly and curiously looked around the room and finally ask her who.. i mean.. what inspired this?! she said it was something going on at school, and i was relieved as i hadn't spotted anyone in the cafe deserving of such a tribute..and ya, and she's in 5th grade. see more of olivia's writing here.

then there's abby, i see reflections of myself in her quietly persistent imagination. among many other things, abby is writing a series called pink princess {see here} this girl (abby) is so clever, her story is not simply about a princess who likes the color pink. in fact, she calls it a tale of sadness, because it's about a princess whose mother had an allergic reaction to pink lemonade when she was pregnant with her, and the unfortunate baby is born with pink skin. abby was sitting in the corner table of the café, writing away as i was working with olivia. she told me later that she doesn't know what's going to happen next in the story, it's the characters who live it out in her mind for her. i told her many brilliant fiction writers would say the same thing. abby's in 6th grade.

anyway, got interrupted with this post when my fav mexican bff sergio walked in the cafe {aka my office} to save the day and say hi, but i will have a haiku post soon!!!

i can see the light

finally getting past the headache. sleepless nights remain {and i get so much done in the night..is it wrong?} et à part ça, the rain falls on my roof and the lack of sunlight does my head a refreshing deal of good. easing back into it, just a sunday afternoon quoi.

which brings to mind a few words written by a friend of mine {i've yet to ask permission for sharing this, but here it goes anyway}

"and because nature is just, it grants each droplet its moment to be heard."

isn't that perfect.

here are two fantastic images by robyn glaser..
the first reminds me of what my place looks like after a day or two of migraine...
the second is an image that i simply adore and my drink of choice before, during and after a headache {and anytime, really}, and yes that much of it, maybe more, prepared any style {except the weak stuff or the burnt stuff from that one corporation 'cafe' that's on every corner} i'll take it. this quite possibly could be a cause of those sleepless nights....nah.. it must be something else..


robyn glaser



robyn glaser

the day

And for those of you wondering, why yes, in fact today ((or the remaining 10 minutes of it)) is my name day, my fête, December 12 Saint Chantal. Well I mean, technically they call it St. Jeanne de Chantal...but it’s enough for me. Last year I was sitting on a crisp afternoon in Paris writing in the Tuileries, so content that I didn’t even realize how chilly it was. That is my favorite time of year to be in the gardens, it’s quiet and empty, you can be completely alone but not at all lonely, or even if the loneliness seeps in a bit, it somehow becomes more tolerable, gentler in this light, and there’s this stillness, this frosty lull in the air that envelops the trees..... and this year, well, I’m sitting at my computer writing, not quite the same but for a moment there I really was back in Paris. And for the evening, at least, I wasn’t alone, I had the pleasure of sitting in a warm café with a warm Algerian.



In other news, the word from Mon Bon Chien is that Sophie Marie is miraculously at home now, and enjoying every minute of love from Harriet. I’m working on some special international guest interviews I will be posting in the next few days, a few simple questions on this time of the year, just searching for a snapshot of what it looks like this season in the parts of the world where some of my dearest friends will celebrate the new year. And I do believe I hear the first sounds of steady rain falling out my window...

À demain.

From the rooftops

Seated up at a high table in the corner of a café, waiting for the young Olivia, the (star)girl I meet with every week to work with on her writing ((we’re creating a blog writing from the rooftops (see my blog roll) that features her very own writing, thoughts, inspirations and updates from the It Book Stargirl that she’s reading.))

...and during such moments in between I’m, as always, trying to figure it all out; still hoping there’s a way..and perhaps a way will come, for my personal stargirl said best...


“I was asked to act when I couldn’t act. I was asked to sing Funny Face when I couldn’t sing, and dance with Fred Astaire when I couldn’t dance – and do all kinds of things I wasn’t prepared for. Then I tried like mad to cope with it.”


I’ll take it from Audrey, try like mad to cope with it, and keep my fingers crossed, there must be a way.
xx
c

i have measured out my life with coffee spoons...

"For I have known them all already, known them all— Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons, I have measured out my life with coffee spoons; I know the voices dying with a dying fall Beneath the music from a farther room."


t. s. e l i o t

((new photos from selma tesekkur ederim my seker lokum :))))

Honey in my coffee

Sitting in the car, he picks up the paper cup of cold coffee that’s been left in the cup holder all day long, and sips it, not registering any signs of displeasure in the taste (that I certainly don’t enjoy even watching him; yet I’ve grown accustomed to it) in fact he claims the coffee tastes better this way and I smile to myself in the endearing simplicity of such gestures that inexplicably hold me here. Like the need for that stale coffee, it can’t be helped. It’s the details, finding pleasure in the bitter sweet, and the moment after, that have in time, touched something within me. He takes a deep breath and sighs out loud, slight exhaustion coming over from a lack of solution to all of life’s problems; and with those strong coffee colored eyes he looks over at me, and in my eyes, his indulgent stare lingers, acknowledging unspoken words with indifference and sincerity and an air of resignation, with half-contented smiles, sympathetic, complicit, he then places the cup of coffee back in the cup holder, and starts the car.