A Strange Kind of Serenity

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I will never bake perfect looking gingerbread. But I can bake great tasting gingerbread and, in my book, that’s more than enough. In fact, that goes for all my baking – it’s something I love doing, I’m not at all bad at it, but my baking will always have a homemade look about it. I have neither the patience to strive for an army of identically looking gingerbread figurines, nor do I have the discipline to always stick to the recipe for all my baking. Since I do understand how it works, I have fun with it, I experiment and I enjoy the slightly different results I get. That very diversity and that imperfect homemade look are perhaps what makes the entire process just right… dare I say, my own kind of “perfect”?

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Same Old Story

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Every picture tells a story… even the subjectively bad, uninteresting, cliché or generally “blah” ones. Every picture is a moment in time, a snippet of personal history, the relevance of which might only become clear later on. There’s also that hidden layer, one involving unknown people and who knows how many unknown experiences… Continue reading “Same Old Story”

Much Needed Me-Days

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Just put on that new pair of boots you so wanted, and get out! Go, take a walk… take some photos… feed the ducks… smell the falling leaves and let the cool autumn sun touch your skin. Just take a break! Just stop overthinking. Stop overanalysing. Stop obsessing. Just relax. Just be. Spend some time with you, on you. The world won’t fall apart if you do.

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More often than not, that’s easier said than done. Continue reading “Much Needed Me-Days”

Colours of Autumn

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September has come and gone. Tourists have finally packed their bags and returned home. We, locals, finally feel like we have our town and our space back. But even though it smells and feels a lot like autumn, the colours aren’t quite ready to change yet. In spite of all the years I lived here, by the sea, in spite of knowing better, I still crave autumnal shades every September.

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Much like the people here, nature is also reluctant to let go of those mysterious hopes and promises of summertime fun by the sea, so leaves change colour later than in other parts of the country.

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