infinity

11/24

in the process

HALLO, alles goed met je? Still in the process of fixing my new "life", if you will, up! Too many running around and so little time. Spending 200 euro on car service in the space of 48 hours and living on a pack of "Sockerfria Kakor Havre" from Ikea, because I've been too lazy to go out and socialise. Can't wait to have some free time and eat normal food, haha!

in the bag

We had a photoshoot in the Powerscourt Townhouse. Very minimalistic design of the third floor. Very clean and crisp like a chilly morning. I love.

yeah yeah yeah

Rooney Mara and a leather jacket. Monochromatic. Coffee. What more could you want? x

darjeeling limited

The Kinks - This Time Tomorrow

In some parts, it reminded me of Wes Anderson's, The Darjeeling Limited.

But you know, like, the Irish version?

Jack: What did he say?

Peter: He said the train is lost.

Jack: How can a train be lost? It's on rails.

footnotes

You never know how much your confidence is based on familiarity with your surroundings until you leave and move somewhere else where everything is unfamiliar. Everyone seems to dress differently, talk differently, and makes you feel like you're at your first day of school all over again. What you did in the previous destination now seems inadequate in this new place you find yourself in.

You recognize the outline of things - cafes, road signs, people, but everything doesn't make sense. Menus, words written on road signs, and the words that come out of peoples mouths. When you look around, everyone seems to have a certain flow to the way they handle their city. The crisply dressed folk with dignified haircuts remain undisturbed by the slightly less crisp breeze against them.

You feel new to this city, but this city also feels new to you. The city has nooks and corners that will show you a nice coffee shop, with a nice barista, who you can have a chat to and suggest where you should try some good food that night. Everything is still in a commotion, but this encounter is slowed down and you feel as if the city is slightly opening up to your arrival.

As friendly faces in line at a grocery store start a small conversation with you, you start to feel more apart of the city. When you run back in after finishing another bar of chocolate, the shop keeper will remember your name. You introduce yourself to people you meet - and next time you see them, they actually remember your name. The familiarity of your new surrounding makes you feel warm as the city wraps itself around you. You get a sense of achievement of noticing the familiar faces in line at your now local cafe.

“A change of environment is the traditional fallacy upon which doomed loves, and lungs, rely.” 

― Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita

07/23

Still loving Alexander Wang's 2012 campaign - bang, pop, pop, this thing go pow.

roadtrips

the world is your oyster card

Westminster; London

You can tell him. You can list the reasons why. You’re pretty good at lists. You can list them over and over. You can count them out like sheep in your head until you forget what the outcome you want from the lists are. Replace the confusion with items from the list and try to lean on to one side of an outcome, only so that you can sleep. You still don’t know.

You can kiss him. Kiss the words into his lips in the hopes that he understands that this minute, second, is perfect. Press your head hard onto his chest in the hopes that he knows that this minute, second, is perfect. But deep inside, you press your head hard onto his chest because you are uncertain if this is the last time you want to have him close to you.

You sit at a coffee at a coffee shop. You can sit in a coffee shop for an hour. An hour more of each other’s company but also an hour less you have for another while. You sit there holding on to his arm but not one word spoken. Looking around, analyzing every inch of the place - except the suitcase in front of you. Observe people working, college students studying, chuckle at the child who spilled their drink two tables down. And there you two are, muttering: “we’ll work something out,” to fill the silence.

You can stand at a train station. You can stand at a train station for an hour. You keep standing there - hands holding tighter. You stand there in front of him, both glancing at other people until the last possible minute until you really have to stop avoiding one another. You say goodbye – make an attempt to say goodbye, at least.

You both stand there. You both stand in the middle of a train station in the hopes that this will be the last goodbye, though at the same, in the hopes that it won't be. It’s tiring. Not the air miles, not the train tracks. The constant reminder of: it is what it is.

There will be days when all you want to do is spend it with that person, and days where you wish things could have been done differently. But it is necessary to never question something that once made/still makes you happy. I guess that’s what makes it exciting: the uncertainty of not knowing when it is possible to act this way with that person again.

black and white

tell me what the matter is, little man I've got a pretty face and I wear a nice dress

Dress; Zara

View from the balcony

Mind the gap

Waterloo, London

They spend time in the morning to style their hair and dress sharply. By force of habit, people will run to where they need to be even if they are on time. I guess London gives that feeling where you’re constantly needed at any given time. It’s a place you love and hate. You love it because of the adrenaline it gives you, but you hate it because you never sleep, well rather - the city never sleeps.

You’ll walk around Borough market in the mornings smelling the freshly baked pastries and fresh flowers as you pass by an old book shop - you know what I’m talking about – the one with books piled up outside - the unwanted ones, and every time you pass by it, you wonder “what happens to these books when it rains,” – It’s been open every single time you visit London, so it must be doing well, yet you never see anyone from outside the window. You walk inside hoping to find a novel to read on the train home but you never actually buy anything.

You’ll meet people who adore you because you’re different. They'll ask you to talk about everything you've done but you never know where to start. So you pick one or two stories they might like, but not the same ones the stranger asked you yesterday. You don't really like the idea of them asking you, but the idea they interested in what you have to say in that given moment is enough for you to share them. They'll nod and smile and ask more questions as you take a pause to sip your coffee in the morning, or cocktail at night. You’ll enjoy meeting old and new faces and walk home with the cold wind fighting against your coat. 

When you leave this place, you’ll want to return. It has this efficiency that not many cities have, not that I've been to all the cities (yet), but it is incomparable. The history, the streets, cultures. It is a melting pot for anything and everything. When you’re in London, you feel like you are truly a part of the city.

karl in amsterdam

paris is always a good idea, pt. 2

What would Blair Waldorf would do?

cold coffee mornings

paris is always a good idea

Audrey Hepburn doesn't lie.

october

So, the Irish winter begins. It's a different kind of cold. It gets into your bones - then you curse when you walk. That's not very nice.

If this is the life, then who'd argue

oh dubai