Sunday, December 27, 2009
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
The Density of Love.
Clare, I want to tell you, again, I love you. Our love has been the thread through the labyrinth, the net under the high-wire walker, the only real thing in this strange life of mine that I could ever trust. Tonight I feel that my love for you has more density in this world than I do, myself: as though it could linger on after me and surround you, keep you, hold you.
There is only one page left to write on. I will fill it with words of only one syllable. I love. I have loved. I will love. It’s dark now and I am very tired. I love you, always. Time is nothing.
- The Time Traveler's Wife, excerpt
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Monday, December 21, 2009
Dormi Amore.
Full of warm tea and all the little pills and potions with which the Venetian has piled on me, I sleep most of the day and into the night. Once, when I awaken, I find him sitting on the edge of the bed facing me, his eyes pools of sweetness. "The fever has passed, you're lovely and cools now. Dormi, amore mio, dormi. Sleep, my love, sleep." I look at him, at his narrow hunched shoulders, his face still a picture of worry. He gets up to adjust the blanket, and I look at him bending over me in his faded underwear. I think he looks like the skinny man on the beach before he wrote away for his copy of "Muscle Culture."
I think he is the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen.
- "A Thousand Days in Venice" by Marlena de Blasi (page 31)
Sunday, December 20, 2009
I Did Not Ask Her To Marry Me.
Friday, December 18, 2009
Ci Vediamo, Amore Mio.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Love Is...
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Adam and Eve.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Monday, December 14, 2009
Veinte Poemas de Amor/Twenty Love Poems
Sunday, December 13, 2009
A Beautiful Day.
Day 1, I stumbled through "Hello" on 5th Avenue.
Day 2, We grabbed a bite to eat and talked all afternoon.
We caught a movie on Day 14,
And Day 67 she said "I love you" to me.
What a beautiful day.
Day 116 I asked her what she was doing for the rest of my life.
Day 189...Oh I almost lost that girl to my foolish pride.
She said "I do" on Day 482.
And gave me a son on Day 761.
Day 18,253,
Well honey that's 50 years,
here's to you and me.
Day 1, I thank God I said "Hello" on 5th Avenue
Saturday, December 12, 2009
My Minnetonka Moccasins
Friday, December 11, 2009
On My Nightstand (per Dicembre)
Thursday, December 10, 2009
The History of Love.
If at large gatherings or parties, or around people with whom you feel distant, your hands sometimes hang awkwardly at the ends of your arms- if you find yourself at a loss for what to do with them, overcome with sadness that comes when you recognize the foreignness of your own body-it's because your hands remember a time when the division between mind and body, brain and heart, what's inside and what's outside, was so much less. It's not that we've forgotten the language of gestures entirely. The habit of moving our hands while we speak is left over from it. Clapping, pointing, giving the thumbs-up: all artifacts of ancient gestures.
Holding hands, for example, is a way to remember how it feels to say nothing together. And at night, when it's too dark to see, we find it necessary to gesture on each other's bodies to make ourselves understood.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
I Will Always Come For You.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Monday, December 7, 2009
If There's Any Kind of Magic In This World.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Little Things.
Little things.
will always miss.
You can never replace anyone,
because everyone is made of such
beautiful specific details.
Like I remember the way...
your beard has a little
bit of red in it.
And how the sun was
making it glow that...
that morning, right before you left.
I remember that, and...
I missed it!
Saturday, December 5, 2009
A True Man.
Friday, December 4, 2009
Romantic Snack #4
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Until We Get Lost.
(Marry Me, lyrics)
Monday, November 30, 2009
Sunday, November 29, 2009
A Gingerbread Home to Call Our Own.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
A Little Crinkle Above Your Nose.
I love that you get cold when it's 71 degrees out. I love that it takes you an hour and a half to order a sandwich. I love that you get a little crinkle above your nose when you're looking at me like I'm nuts. I love that after I spend the day with you, I can still smell your perfume on my clothes. And I love that you are the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep at night. And it's not because I'm lonely, and it's not because it's New Year's Eve. I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible. (When Harry Met Sally)
Friday, November 27, 2009
An Incurable Romantic.
I believe in hope, dreams, and decency.
Tenderness and kindness.
I believe in mankind.
I believe in goodness,
Mercy and charity
I believe in a universal spirit
I believe in casting bread
Upon the waters.
I am awed by the snow capped mountains
By the vastness of the oceans.
I am moved by a couple
Of any age - holding hands
As they walk through city streets.
A living creature in pain
Makes me shudder with sorrow
A seagull's cry fills me
With a sense of mystery.
A river or stream
Can move me to tears
A lake nestling in a valley
Can bring me peace.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
How Will I Know Her?
How will I know her?
I will know her by
Her being.
By her aura.
Though she be
A glimpse
A flash,
My eye will know.
I will know her.
Even if she comes
In the blackness
Of the darkest night
Her fragrance...
Will sing to me.
Even if her sound
Should be a whisper
My ear will know.
I will know her.
Even if we
But brush past
Each other in the crowd
Her touch will call
To my brain...
She is here!
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Monday, November 23, 2009
The Airport Moment
Airport Moments | March 29th, 2006
I used to dream of having one of those great romantic moments - walking through the arrivals gate and seeing him standing there. There would be slow motion running, he'd pick me up and twirl me around so happy to see me again. In reality my airport moments have always been significantly more tearful than the daydreams…Sobbing so hard after leaving him that even the customs lady looked at my with pity, talking to him on the phone from airport after airport, wishing i was somewhere - anywhere - but in an airport.
That final airport day was never going to be a Hollywood moment, the closest it came was the stickers on my luggage from LAX Airport. I was tired, I was jetlagged, I was ready to be at home. It all seems a bit of a blur to be honest - after my years of waiting for that moment I can't remember who i hugged first, or the expression on his face as I came through the gate. The only thing I remember is the feeling of being back on the ground, and wishing i'd brushed my hair before i got off the plane.
Posted in romance, thoughts from:
http://happilyeverafter.wo
Every place I go, I think of youEvery song I sing, I sing for youSo kiss me and smile for meTell me that you'll wait for meHold me like you'll never let me goNow the time has come to leave youClose your eyes and I'll be on my way...
Sunday, November 22, 2009
The Grand Gesture by Disney
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Romantic Snack #1
Friday, November 20, 2009
So It's Not Gonna Be Easy...
Now say you're a bird.If you're a bird, I'm a bird.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
The Animal Cracker Scene
Grace Stamper: What?
A.J.: I really don't think that the animal cracker qualifies as a cracker.
Grace Stamper: Why?
A.J.: Well cause it's sweet, which to me suggests cookie, I mean well putting cheese on something is sort of a defining characteristic of what makes a cracker a cracker. I don't know why I thought of that, I just...
Grace Stamper: Baby, you have such sweet pillow talk.
A.J.: I hope so, otherwise, what the hell are we trying to save?
Thursday, June 11, 2009
My Collection of Happy Endings
“Stories can conquer fear, you know. They can make the heart bigger. The greatest stories are those that resonate our beginnings and intuit our endings, our mysterious origins and our numinous destinies, and dissolve them both into one.”
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Piccolo Amore: Bows
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
The Inconvenient Kind.
Why is it that most people tend to find the person they end up with at the local Starbucks post-doubleshot-grande-caramel macchiato mix-up or while leisurely perusing through the cooking section of a bookstore chain? Having accumulated more than my fair share of air miles, hopping from one continent to the next, I always wonder why there are not more stories of love that spans oceans and time zones. To me, it just seems like the chances of finding “the one” you are meant for within a ten mile radius of where you grew up would be nothing short of obsolete, yet this tends to be the general trend. Perhaps fate favours convenience as I can say first-hand that tending to a love across the lovely pond we call the Atlantic is certainly not for the faint-of-heart, only the brave. Whatever the reason, if fate truly is kind and gives most of us a fellow with the same zip code, I am elated to be the exception to her kindness. I am looking for great love. The kind that people would want to write a book about- a charming prince, an unlikely principessa, exotic locales, and a "dragon" to slay. I dreamed of the inconvenient love and behold, dreams do come true.
Monday, June 8, 2009
If I Were A Boy, In Love With A Girl.
If suddenly you do not exist,
if suddenly you are not living,
I shall go on living.
I do not dare,
I do not dare to write it,
if you die.
I shall go on living.
For where a man has no voice,
there, my voice.
Where blacks are beaten,
I cannot be dead.
When my brothers go to jail
I shall go with them.
When victory,
not my victory,
but the great victory
arrives,
even though I am mute I must speak;
I shall see it come even though I am blind.
No, forgive me.
If you are not living,
if you, beloved, my love,
if you
have died,
all the leaves will fall in my breast,
it will rain upon my soul night and day,
the snow will burn my heart,
I shall walk with cold and fire and death and snow,
my feet will want to walk to where you sleep,
but
I shall go on living,
because you wanted me to be,
above all things,
untamable,
and, my love, because you know that I am not just one man
but all men.
- Pablo Neruda