Haven't been writing for a while- I mean the putting pen to paper kind. Then for some strange reasons, I began to feel that desire to start writing again.
I still can't get over the beauty of the spencerian script: http://www.artofmanliness.com/2014/12/16/improve-your-cursive-handwriting/

Went onto eBay to get even more pens with plans to modify them with a zebra G and Nikko G nibs after seeing how much like a flex pen a cheap jinhao can become if you fit one of these babies into it.

Can hardly wait for the pens and nibs to arrive.

On an unrelated note, I realize how sometimes in life, a small seemingly unimportant decision can lead to major upheavals in our lives. one small decision leads us to another small decision to another and another until we reach a point where we realize all these little doors are leading us into a vastly different world. Sometimes the world is one that we desire, sometimes it is one we enter in horror and wonder what the hell we had done. One seemingly minor mistake in our decision making process and poof the life that we envisioned and dreamt about, is gone. The trouble is we will never really know whether we have made a mistake until we get there. But I believe too that we possess this innate sixth sense that warns us of the mistakes we are about to make. It is just too bad that we overwrite these premonitions with logic and self-denial, convincing ourselves into believing otherwise. Why we do that, I'm not sure. Perhaps the more we try to avoid trouble, the more we try to make "safe" decisions,  the more we try to stay in our comfort zone, the more mistakes and troubles we get into. How do we learn to trust our instincts? How do we learn to trust our hearts?

Jean-Paul Satre to Simone Beauvoir

My dear little girl 

For a long time I’ve been wanting to write to you in the evening after one of those outings with friends that I will soon be describing in “A Defeat,” the kind when the world is ours. I wanted to bring you my conqueror’s joy and lay it at your feet, as they did in the Age of the Sun King. And then, tired out by all the shouting, I always simply went to bed. Today I’m doing it to feel the pleasure you don’t yet know, of turning abruptly from friendship to love, from strength to tenderness. Tonight I love you in a way that you have not known in me: I am neither worn down by travels nor wrapped up in the desire for your presence. I am mastering my love for you and turning it inwards as a constituent element of myself. This happens much more often than I admit to you, but seldom when I’m writing to you. Try to understand me: I love you while paying attention to external things. At Toulouse I simply loved you. Tonight I love you on a spring evening. I love you with the window open. You are mine, and things are mine, and my love alters the things around me and the things around me alter my love.

My dear little girl, as I’ve told you, what you’re lacking is friendship. But now is the time for more practical advice. Couldn’t you find a woman friend? How can Toulouse fail to contain one intelligent young woman worthy of you*? But you wouldn’t have to love her. Alas, you’re always ready to give your love, it’s the easiest thing to get from you. I’m not talking about your love for me, which is well beyond that, but you are lavish with little secondary loves, like that night in Thiviers when you loved that peasant walking downhill in the dark, whistling away, who turned out to be me. Get to know the feeling, free of tenderness, that comes from being two. It’s hard, because all friendship, even between two red-blooded men, has its moments of love. I have only to console my grieving friend to love him; it’s a feeling easily weakened and distorted. But you’re capable of it, and you must experience it. And so, despite your fleeting misanthropy, have you imagined what a lovely adventure it would be to search Toulouse for a woman who would be worthy of you and whom you wouldn’t be in love with? Don’t bother with the physical side or the social situation. And search honestly. And if you find nothing, turn Henri Pons, whom you scarcely love anymore, into a friend.

[…]

I love you with all my heart and soul.

The one

I keep trying to outrun you,

But I know it is a Sisyphean task.

You always win,

I can only admit my defeat.

The halcyon days are yours,

But me, I shall live in the shadows

And the chaos,

For the days to come.

Laugh you may,

For you have earned your right,

To watch the spectacle,

Of an insufferable fool. 

Like the court jester,

He hides his grief behind his painted face.

If only, if only,

You could see.

The gift he keeps,

All wrapped beneath the layers of sorrows. 

The gift that belongs,

To the one whose eyes are not blinded 

By the neon lights and gold,

To the one whose heart is pure,

To the one whose eyes see eternity.

To the one,

The only one. 

Travels

did a fair bit of traveling in 2016- thailand, Norway, Iceland, korea, Taiwan, Nepal; perpetually traveling once every 2-3 months, which was the reason why I was lamenting the loss of my leave. It is unlikely that this year I will be traveling as much. Kinda sad as I still want to do that RV thing. I remain undecided about going to US, quite likely the opportunity has passed. Ah, to go or not to go... so many places left unexplored. Haven't had the chance to explore the south yet and that is something on my bucket list. My idea at first was to go to Yellowstone but unfortunately Feb is not the best time to visit the national park. What a painful waste!
Tasmania and morrocco will have to wait till next year I guess. The gang had wanted to go on a road trip in Europe since j and p are now residing permanently there. I would have loved to check out sardegna. Anyhow, looks like the only place I am likely to go would be Australia, which I don't really mind. It was nice exploring the vineyards and staying on a farm, bbqing at a cottage by the sea, sitting in front of the fireplace, scouring flea markets for vintage stuff, browsing the farmer's market for food.....
I shall just dream for now...