A Room of One's Own

january so far.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Tue, 10 Jan 2012 20:48:00 +0000

I'm spending the entire month in my hometown in Brazil, doing nothing much than enjoying homemade food (yum!), enjoying the sunshine, going to my fav restaurants and cafés, drinking fresh juices and coconut water, wearing my summer clothes, having fun with the actual size of some fruit and how they smell so fresh and sweet... A nice break from cold and depressing january. Here are some everyday shots taken with a mobile phone.

Food porn.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Sun, 08 Jan 2012 23:02:00 +0000

2012.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Sun, 01 Jan 2012 09:52:00 +0000

seasons.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Mon, 26 Dec 2011 23:07:00 +0000

light.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Thu, 15 Dec 2011 20:28:00 +0000

some pictures from this spring and past summers.

darkness.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Mon, 31 Oct 2011 09:05:00 +0000

"I had a dream, which was not all a dream.

The bright sun was extinguished, and the stars
Did wander darkling in the eternal space,
Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth
Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air;
Morn came and went -and came, and brought no day,
And men forgot their passions in the dread
Of this their desolation; and all hearts
Were chilled into a selfish prayer for light;
And they did live by watchfires -and the thrones,
The palaces of crowned kings -the huts,
The habitations of all things which dwell,
Were burnt for beacons; cities were consumed,
And men were gathered round their blazing homes
To look once more into each other's face;
Happy were those which dwelt within the eye
Of the volcanoes, and their mountain-torch;
A fearful hope was all the world contained;
Forests were set on fire -but hour by hour
They fell and faded -and the crackling trunks
Extinguished with a crash -and all was black.
The brows of men by the despairing light
Wore an unearthly aspect, as by fits
The flashes fell upon them: some lay down
And hid their eyes and wept; and some did rest
Their chins upon their clenched hands, and smiled;
And others hurried to and fro, and fed
Their funeral piles with fuel, and looked up
With mad disquietude on the dull sky,
The pall of a past world; and then again
With curses cast them down upon the dust,
And gnashed their teeth and howled; the wild birds shrieked,
And, terrified, did flutter on the ground,
And flap their useless wings; the wildest brutes
Came tame and tremulous; and vipers crawled
And twined themselves among the multitude,
Hissing, but stingless -they were slain for food;
And War, which for a moment was no more,
Did glut himself again; -a meal was bought
With blood, and each sate sullenly apart
Gorging himself in gloom: no love was left;
All earth was but one thought -and that was death,
Immediate and inglorious; and the pang
Of famine fed upon all entrails -men
Died, and their bones were tombless as their flesh;
The meagre by the meagre were devoured,
Even dogs assailed their masters, all save one,
And he was faithful to a corse, and kept
The birds and beasts and famished men at bay,
Till hunger clung them, or the drooping dead
Lured their lank jaws; himself sought out no food,
But with a piteous and perpetual moan,
And a quick desolate cry, licking the hand
Which answered not with a caress -he died.
The crowd was famished by degrees; but two
Of an enormous city did survive,
And they were enemies: they met beside
The dying embers of an altar-place
Where had been heaped a mass of holy things
For an unholy usage: they raked up,
And shivering scraped with their cold skeleton hands
The feeble ashes, and their feeble breath
Blew for a little life, and made a flame
Which was a mockery; then they lifted up
Their eyes as it grew lighter, and beheld
Each other's aspects -saw, and shrieked, and died -
Even of their mutual hideousness they died,
Unknowing who he was upon whose brow
Famine had written Fiend. The world was void,
The populous and the powerful was a lump,
Seasonless, herbless, treeless, manless, lifeless -
A lump of death -a chaos of hard clay.
The rivers, lakes, and ocean all stood still,
And nothing stirred within their silent depths;
Ships sailorless lay rotting on the sea,
And their masts fell down piecemeal; as they dropped
They slept on the abyss without a surge -
The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave,
The Moon, their mistress, had expired before;
The winds were withered in the stagnant air,
And the clouds perished! Darkness had no need
Of aid from them -She was the Universe." (Lord Byron).

mood.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Sun, 30 Oct 2011 11:04:00 +0000

Tulips, me over five years ago, sunset light in the living room, autumn leaves, home made cappuccino and a wrapped secret poem.

pink is the magic word.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Sat, 29 Oct 2011 15:13:00 +0000

vintage faux fur.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Sat, 29 Oct 2011 14:57:00 +0000

I hate myself wearing this coat without heeled shoes, but sometimes I just have to be practical, which during the cold months ALWAYS translates in Dr. Martens.

anne shirley.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Fri, 28 Oct 2011 13:27:00 +0000

Anne: Mr. Cuthbert, what is this place called?

Matthew: The Avenue. Pretty, ain't it?

Anne: Pretty doesn't seem the right word to use. Nor beautiful either; it don't go far enough. It is wonderful. Wonderful. They shouldn't call this lovely place, "The Avenue"! There's no meaning in a name like that. They should call it, "White Way of Delight." It's far more glorious than I could ever have imagined.

Matthew: That's Barry's pond.

Anne: Oh, no. This is the Lake of Shining Waters. That's its rightful name. Do things like this ever give you a thrill, Mr. Cuthbert?

mist.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Fri, 28 Oct 2011 13:12:00 +0000

Paris.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Mon, 10 Oct 2011 18:49:00 +0000

From a month ago when I was in Paris.

early autumn.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Sun, 09 Oct 2011 19:59:00 +0000

Botanic Garden, Copenhagen, in a very unusual (hot!) autumn day. Sad that the weather is now back to normal.

morticia.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Fri, 07 Oct 2011 15:40:00 +0000

vintage armani blazer, triumph lingerie, h&m tights.

fall state of mind.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Fri, 12 Aug 2011 13:54:00 +0000

Paris in the early spring; rainy and gloomy, could as well be Copenhagen in many days during the current summer. Well, at least regarding the weather it could... And now, August month, I declare you officially "autumn".

dawn.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Fri, 12 Aug 2011 13:00:00 +0000

2 years ago.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Wed, 15 Jun 2011 19:33:00 +0000

Could as well be today... or yesterday.

Parc des Buttes Chaumont.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Tue, 14 Jun 2011 14:10:00 +0000

in a rainy spring day.

wish.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Sat, 11 Jun 2011 10:26:00 +0000

3 places I'd rather be in right now: my hometown in Brazil, Rome and Paris.

accidents happen.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Wed, 18 May 2011 07:27:00 +0000

ghost.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Tue, 17 May 2011 11:45:00 +0000

All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Sat, 07 May 2011 20:25:00 +0000

Some pictures from a few weeks ago... Melon ice cream, easter egg, flower bouquets thrown away outside a cemetery, someone's balcony, pink nail polish, first blossoms.

spring awakening.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Tue, 12 Apr 2011 13:56:00 +0000

Spring awakening at least in this part of the world takes uncountable cups of tea, pieces of cake, cold feet, frozen hands, the expected frustration... This year, it snowed in march, again. And this cherry tree picture was taken in may last year, as the same tree is still barren. I don't thrive in constant gloomy atmospheres, I can sleep until forever if the sight through my window is nothing but infinite grey walls. I'm not those sunny people who bright a room with their smile, neither those who instantly fall asleep after a long warm day, who claim summer makes them lazy and sweaty (oh, those poor things!). No, I'm one of those who never get tired of warmth, brightness, birds chirping, bare legs, ice cream, flowers... But the very same birds from last year have rebuilt the very same nest in the very same spot in the very same tree I see through my window. Sometimes it rains, sometimes the sun shines... It's a long awakening, nonetheless I wait.

january again.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Tue, 05 Apr 2011 10:10:00 +0000

When I was in Brazil.

nothing but blue skies.

noreply@blogger.com (Romeika) — Thu, 17 Feb 2011 20:47:00 +0000

It turned out to be more serious than a simple cold... and it's been days already. :( I hate being ill, and I could definitely use the vitamin C in that delicious fresh juice. Why can't Denmark just import acerolas? One tiny acerola cherry countains 40 times as much vitamin C as orange. Not to mention far less calories: 200 ml orange juice has 200 cal. whereas the acerola one has only 36 (!). Healthy and helps in your diet, and have I said delicious? Though not sure if plenty of vitamin C would be enough to fight against my constant cold/flu/virosis episodes, since endless cold months don't help it either... I miss warm weather and sunshine.