Floral fetish

my latest loot ;)
my latest loot 😉

My love of flowers is unconditional.

Putting them on vases, acquired glasses or bottles, is another.

blue
blue

Ahhh, hydrangeas. Who would’ve thought I could ever buy or locate a bunch? First off, they’re not common or endemic here in Cebu. Second, my imagination did fell short in terms of realizing the bizarre range of floral fare found in our local haven (in front of San Jose-Recoletos).

Isn't she a beauty?
Isn’t she a beauty?

Glad to found the gladiolus! They’re just rad, especially when they come in bulk and various colors.

red n' white
red n’ white

The red gerbera peeking out of some unfamiliar wrap…

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Not sure what specific mums these are, but they’re just as pretty. The glass wine was somebody else’s unwanted piece. (yes, pinky swear 🙂 )

window fiend
window fiend

Probably, related to bananas? Or lantanas?

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More mums won’t ever hurt 😉

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Roses are … pink and yellow! I rarely buy these because they’re the sort that won’t last a week. The tip I got was to buy those whose buds are still a little bit closed. But really, it’s not easy to resist these blooms!

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The queerer, always the better! Plus: the famous liquor bottle looks fab on it. (no, I don’t mean otherwise!)

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A shock of yellow surprise ;D

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Oh save me, I love me some mums!

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Ahh…redundancy! Poignant yellow redundancy!

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Because I don’t have the heart to throw away the small ones… ;(

And some bonus ensembles:

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There, there. Take a feast of my floral fetish.

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In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “My Hero.”

https://www.behance.net/Rahulwasp
https://www.behance.net/Rahulwasp

My hero isn’t exactly corporeal.  For starters, my hero is a lot — they’re the fictional characters in my favorite books. They’re figures who emerged to save me from my rotting, boring mortal life (hehe).

There’s Kate Collison of The Demon Lover, an aspiring artist in an era where woman-artists are unheard of.  Alexandra in A Light-hearted Look at Murder is that awkward adult; she’s no different from me, our struggles are very much the same. And how about Alma Whittaker, ever curious, ever insatiable!

And then let’s not forget: Lisbeth Salander, blessed with so many titles (pun intended) — The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, The Girl Who Played with Fire, and The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest.

So many heroines!  They inspire, they do, they think in the noisy, cranky world.

Yes, they are my heroines!

:p

Dreams, lately

http://madamkartinki.blogspot.gr/search/label/Andy%20Russell
http://madamkartinki.blogspot.gr/search/label/Andy%20Russell

Dreams, lately, consist of reality. A fulfilling job; going back to school; being busy and alive enough to feel the surroundings and turn my self-absorption into someone’s better day.

I saw this old guy, busily selling his maps. Out in the heated pavement, equip with a simple polo clothing, pants and sunglass, the maps were lightly tossed in the air for a prospective buyer to catch. Fifty pesos could buy him his next meal, his wife’s medicine… I don’t know because I’m merely speculating. Once, after bouts of reluctance, I bought a Chowking meal for him. When I went out the foodshop, he’s gone. Perhaps, he sought refuge into the shady parts of the Osmeña circle.

I was disappointed, but he isn’t the only old person in the area. On the opposite side of the block was this old woman, selling flowers.  I regularly buy flowers from her. That day, I took the Chowking meal to her after buying another bunch of white mums. She said ‘salamat kaayu’ (thank you very much) in that sing-song way (as if sung in glee). And like flash, I was on the street, crossing to hide again from the heat that may have nothing to do with the glaring sun in this city.

A few days after, I saw the map-toting oldie again. Determined not to lose my chance, I quickly re-emerged with a meal from KFC. I bought one map of Cebu, paid him and hand over the food. He sang the same sing-song thank-you notes to me.

A friend of mine once pointed out my affinity for old people. Back then, I was too shy to even admit that. My rearing has always brought upon me a tumultous balance — between ‘being soft’ and ‘being me.’  But things have changed. I have gone through things I have never imagined to have touch me or affect me.

I suppose it’s just time to let myself be me.

Be it soft or not. 😀