There was a Cherry Tree in my garden before.  In spring, it was covered with fluffy pink blossoms that dance happily in the breeze. They say Sakura is an omen of good fortune and an emblem for love and affection. It embodies spring like no other tree. It flowers might be short-lived but they remind us of a fleeting nature of life.

I loved to lie beneath the gentle shower of pink petals floating softly to the ground. Sakura is my namesake. Pity that the tree is no longer there. A violent storm ripped it off from the ground… But it will be forever in my memory, all the times I spent reading books under it will not be forgotten. I have pictures to remind me of those happy moments…


what to blog?

Often times I’m struggling with what topic is “safe” to post ( I’m only kidding) what I mean is… to select among the ones that are playing in my head and make it understandable/acceptable for the majority of readers. As you probably noticed by now, I tend to write long blogs, but I am trying to avoid doing that lately; same as I am trying to moderate sharing my dark depressing thoughts to all of you because I know life is difficult already as it is without me adding to it. I’m also aware that a lot of people like to read real life stuff, something most could relate to like relationships, travel, something inspirational or educational, family related or anything controversial under the sun and of course the hottest topic(s ) of all time…what else but l’amour, I mean photography.

I tried to cover them all to test for reactions and confirm my several different theories about what people want to read, I must say it didn’t make me any wiser; I still don’t have a single clue and have given up figuring it out a long time ago. But one thing is for sure: nine out of ten, the name behind the article is what really matters not so much the article itself. One has to be established. How to do that exactly is debatable and for a totally different post.

Being said that; allow me to share another difficulty I often encounter when trying to write something; that is__ staying with the original thoughts in my head. Frequently enough, I started with a clear topic and find out that somewhere along the way; it turned out into something I didn’t mean to put in black & white. Take this blog for instance: I wanted to pen something about refreshed/repressed childhood of mine and even selected few pictures which I thought suited for the material. Look how it turned out to be, a yada-yada-ya about nothing.  To correct that maybe I would say something like this:

Through a series of painful realizations, it’s started to make an odd sort of sense. Not real sense, but the crazy, uninhibited sort of understanding that only someone like me could make. I have a problem… a love problem, but the challenge is not making someone fall in love with me; I don’t mean to sound shallow, but guys have always been interested in me, and though I never really look for it, it seems that they are always there in the right place at the right time and I went for it for fun- out of nothing better to do- because it feels good? I don’t know.

I need someone to go places and do things, they are there and I said to myself: well… why not? They are free and I’m “free” there is no harm done and so I thought but even then__ I always tell myself: well… they’re young, they will get over it. I have had too many boyfriends that much I could admit (take note: having boyfriends is not a synonym for sleeping around) frankly, there were times that I had all five of them simultaneously. Why? Because I found out that it is easier to get rid of them if you say yes.

And saying yes doesn’t mean I have to keep my end of the bargain. They can always bail out anytime. After all, they are the ones who want to be in that situation in the first place; so, they have to know for themselves.

The problem is more in the region of falling in love with myself. I’ve struggled for years and still is struggling to be happy with who I am, and few times I made the mistake of letting someone else try to make me happy, make me more alive. But of course, it is a very wrong choice. No wonder I have a commitment phobia, it’s understandable why when it comes to relationships I can’t find my way, I’m love illiterate and blind as a bat paranoid and totally, totally insecure. How could I (expect someone to love me) make myself believe that somebody would actually stay when I have never even loved myself?

Does it make this blog more interesting? The answer is: probably depends who’s going to read it, or if that person can relate with the topic or not or just simply like the way I string the story together ha,ha.

When everything is said and done by the end of the day when it comes to it, it is really up to the readers what to like and not to like. The question still remains: what to blog?


mr. nice guy

Yesterday, I had an appointment to view a property I’m interested in renovating and selling afterwards for a profit. The broker told me on the phone that if I don’t have a hundred grand minimum I better don’t waste my time (meaning his) I told him that it is his job to show me the building and it’s none of his business if I want to spend my money on it or not. And as for wasting my time, I will be the judge of that thank you.

He showed up fashionably late which in my book is bad for the image of the company he is representing (I already managed to let a rookie get almost fired last week. Not so much as the fact that she did not know a thing about the property she was selling, or that she wasn’t helpful and not even willing; what annoyed me was her whole attitude towards me. She was clearly prejudiced. I saw it written all over her face the moment she stepped out of the car – which by the way taken her a long time doing – then she ignored each and every question I asked and why it is that she refused to meet my eyes?

Anyway, I phoned her superior there and then and got myself an appointment the next day with the boss herself. I know she wanted to see for herself what sort of person I am. We’ve met,  got along just fine and we will meet each other again next Saturday to seal the deal if everything goes according to plan. I still have to do some final technical inspection of the property and I am bringing two experts with me. The superior asked my opinion about the rookie, if she deserves another chance. Apparently I am not the only one who is not satisfied with her. I don’t want anyone’s misfortune in my conscience so naturally I told her to give the girl another chance) so, I made a mental note to call their main office when I get home.

Okay, where am I?

Oh, yes, the man I met yesterday. He showed up in his Porsche wearing white silk shirt, black crumpled silk sport coat, raw designer jeans, and black leather shoes with pointed toes; reeking of a whole bottle of something very strong. Tall, blond and very, very arrogant, he presented me a picture of a person who is pretending to be somebody which he is not. Underneath that cocky attitude, I sensed someone who is vulnerable and has lots of personal worries. I know that he knows that I’m on to him fast. We dislike each other on sight.

He tried to act  professional; I could give that to him. He doesn’t speak Dutch and my French is not what it used to be and we are both stubborn enough to give in. So, I spoke to him in my language and he mumbled in his, but once in a while we caught one another understanding perfectly what each other was saying. He seems amused with my technical questions and asked if I’m an architect, I said: no, are you?

He then suggested leaving me to explore the place in my convenience since he got some phone calls to make anyway, but if I EVER need him, he will be in the garden admiring the flowers. I told him what a good idea since it was so stuffy in here. I was relieved to see him go.

The house has plenty of potentials, lots of characters and original features. I saw that some portions of the traditional leaded windows are missing (irreplaceable) and some parts of the original parquet floor had gone up (no problem) probably because of the damp, the place had never been opened or heated for two years.

It was a majestic property throughout,especially inside; huge marble fireplaces in every room, proper inglenook, high ceilings, beautiful moldings and cornices, and the views it offers from all sides are magnificent. Plenty of space, tons of possibilities but also too much work is needed to restore the place to its former glory. Not to mention the capital. And I don’t know if I’m willing to gamble both. If it happened that I am rich,I would take my time to nurse it back to health patiently and lovingly. I had always been attracted to this sort of properties. It might sound weird, but it is some sort of recognition. More I can’t explain.

I walked out from the place without saying goodbye. I know it’s not the done thing but I’m sure he’ll get over it. That sort of people always do.