Day 31: End of Day

At the end of my day, this is where I find myself.  In front of a gate with wrought iron and partially peeling paint.  About forty square meters of personal space.   I've lived here for close to four years now.  Two years of which, on my own.  Yet it's still a work in progress.  Sort of like myself.

Living on my own was something that just happened for me.  It was never really planned.  That's probably why I'm just realizing that I should start properly furnishing my apartment.  I should have more than my poor excuse of a kitchen and an actual dining set.  I should have more than two sets of curtains and my iTunes to drown out the Sunday choir next door.  But no matter how incomplete it may seem, I would still find myself in front of this gate at the end of each day.  I would still love the collective wood, wicker, wrought iron and peeling paint.  The sunlight muted by my curtains, the church choir next door and the lack of a real kitchen.

After all, at the end of the day, This is Home (Switchfoot).

Day 30: Paper Cranes

They say that if you get to make a thousand paper cranes, you will be granted a wish.  One thousand, and not one less.  It makes me wonder what wish I would want to be granted so much that I would make a thousand of these things.  Long life?  Good health?  Wealth?  Luck?  Winning combination numbers?

I honestly can't think of any.  I'm going to sound really arrogant, but whatever I deserve, I know I will somehow get.  So, I don't necessarily need to fold a thousand paper cranes.  Who knows, though, maybe one day I may just need to get myself origami paper.

How about you?  What wish would you make a thousand paper cranes for? I Wish...

Day 29: Heroique

I've given up on playing, but that doesn't mean that I've given up on music.  Music, for me, is a constant.  It cannot not be there.  I sometimes wonder how you can put music into pictures.  That's why I put links of music to my posts sometime.  It's probably a given that I also like literature.  Reading and writing are probably the first things I enjoyed doing.  I'm an Alice traipsing in wonderland whenever I would read a story or write my thoughts.  Photography, meanwhile, is something I have learned to love.  At some point, I stopped taking pictures.  It was only recently that I picked up from where I left the habit.  The picture above is of a journal I got yesterday.  And this post, I guess, is a summary of all three interests.

Polonaise in A-Flat Major by F. Chopin

Day 28: Pretty Bright Lights

While scourging through the mall after work, I saw these pretty chandeliers at a store.  I figured this is too cute for me to pass up.  I would have bought the green ones and taken them home with me had they wanted to sell them.  It would make for good home decor.  It would make such a stark contrast to my mostly wooden furniture, but would definitely look pretty on my ceiling.

Day 27: Standing Still

I never learned how to ride a bike.  Which is a funny thing, really.  I remembered that when I saw this bike parked outside the building where I live.  It was just there, standing perfectly still.

There are several moments in my life when I felt like I was standing still like this bike.  Sometimes, anticipating.  Other times, dreading.  No matter how long you stand still, though, at some point you have to move.  At one point or another, you get on the seat and push on the pedal.

Eventually, you stop Standing Still (Jewel).

Day 26: The Road Home

Given the amount of payroll and taxes I was calculating, I almost forgot to take a photo today.  So, on the way home, I snapped pictures of nearly everything.  My neighbor even caught me taking several shots of my gate.  I must have looked demented. :)  Out of all of them, I liked this picture of the pavement best.

And they're Walking After You (Foo Fighters).

Day 25: On Lost Art

There was a discussion I joined recently that talked about lost art.  Then, while I was going through the other Project 365 blogs, mooncake talked about her lost art.  It got me thinking about my own lost art.  I think we all have that.  That one passion we abandoned somewhere.  It's the violin for me. 

I used to play the violin.  Used to.  I can say that comfortably now.  It was difficult for me to say that for some time, because I had a hard time accepting that I probably will not play music again.  Not that I was exceptional in it.  My level of expertise with the violin was mediocre at best.  I didn't learn it because I wanted to make a career out of it, though.  I just wanted to play.  I love music, although, music would not always love me.  My violin, though, have always loved me back.  It was patient with me, but I wasn't as patient with it.  Neither did I devote as much time for it as it deserved.  So, even if it was just there, I lost it.  I lost the art.  Unlike the others, this is probably one lost art I will let go of.

Favorite piece: Canon in D - Pachelbel