Thoughts flutter throughout the day. Few stay, few flit, few need to be celebrated. Thoughts are man’s gift, valuable enough to cherish for infinity. In a hope to immortalize those thoughts, I etch words onto this blog wishing all the way to carry them further into the world.
I've been playing around with watercolors lately and I've discovered they are "my" sort of paints. There is such color, beauty, simplicity in them. So very very different a experience from poster or oil. I'm not going to assume I'm a great painter or anything. I've amateur at the least, so please ignore the glaring mistakes. Or better, point them out so I know what I'm doing wrong.
I should also mention, the paintings are recreations so all credits to the original. Thank you for the inspiration :)
The very first. Also discovering the kind of paper to use.
Kinda getting there I think
I've given most of these to friends as they are recreations. I'm going to put my effort into the creation process and work on some originals this December holidays. Watercolors have become an addiction of sorts.
Oh, this one is poster paints. Toothless for a friend on her birthday!
“We are the readers” is the Kindle Paperwhite ad currently
running in India. It is an ad that makes the ardent reader in me pause, watch
the entire advertisement, and leaves me smiling each time. It connects with the
crazy, slightly obsessed, and a complete book addict that I am.
We are all readers, the
writers, bloggers, and reviewers. We read with no pre conceived expectations, no
genre restrains, we read like it is our job, as if the words sustain us. We
read in a bubble, a timeless capsule where the world ceases to exist, night or
day, through storm and rain, in make believe or simply a stronger reality. We
aren’t the “normal” readers, we read everything and never put down a book
unfinished, we sit though the struggles and the problems, bad writing and plot
twists, mystery and romance, all sort of books out there.
We are the reader, for today and forever. Agreed?
PS. You can find the video here.
Note: images do not belong to me
Three more book review towards the Reading Challenge.
Recently Deflowered Girl by Hyaointhe Phyppe
book a friend recommended: The Kiss of Deception by Mary E Pearson
A popular author’s first book: Love letters to the Dead by Ava Dellaira
Recently Deflowered Girl by Hyaointhe Phyppe
Goodreads:An infectiously funny guide to post-deflowerment decorum, with illustrations by a master of the absurd.
I don't want to give away any back story about this book. One, because there isn't much to talk about. Two, this is something you need to read with no back story. Only thing I can share is that it is about little incidents when the girl gets "deflowered" following an awkward situation where she comes up with the most well-timed but never-would-have guessed replies. When my friend wanted me to try this one I was wary as it looked like a picture book. Don't let it fool you; reading it was the craziest, most intelligent, and hilarious ten minutes of my life. I read it again, just to relieve this perfection.
The Kiss of Deception by Mary E. Pearson's
Goodreads: In a society steeped in tradition, Princess Lia's life follows a preordained course. As First Daughter, she is expected to have the revered gift of sight--but she doesn't--and she knows her parents are perpetrating a sham when they arrange her marriage to secure an alliance with a neighboring kingdom--to a prince she has never met.
On the morning of her wedding, Lia flees to a distant village. She settles into a new life, hopeful when two mysterious and handsome strangers arrive--and unaware that one is the jilted prince and the other an assassin sent to kill her. Deception abounds, and Lia finds herself on the brink of unlocking perilous secrets--even as she finds herself falling in love.
The Kiss of Deception is the first book in Mary E. Pearson's Remnant Chronicles. It's a good day when I find a book that has a gripping story line coupled with fine writing skills. I enjoyed turning the pages of Kiss of Deception and seeing things through Lia's perspective. Seeing the journey she takes, the transformation into a new identity she builds for herself keeps you reading on. Talking about the two men in her life. Even though one is an assassin(Kaden), I was rooting for both of them equally. It is only much later on could I decided I was Team Prince Rafe. I think book two is going to throw some very interesting light on Kaden.
Love Letters to the dead by Ava Dellaira
Goodreads: It begins as an assignment for English class: Write a letter to a dead person. Laurel chooses Kurt Cobain because her sister, May, loved him. And he died young, just like May did. Soon, Laurel has a notebook full of letters to people like Janis Joplin, Amy Winehouse, Amelia Earhart, Heath Ledger, and more -- though she never gives a single one of them to her teacher. She writes about starting high school, navigating new friendships, falling in love for the first time, learning to live with her splintering family. And, finally, about the abuse she suffered while May was supposed to be looking out for her. Only then, once Laurel has written down the truth about what happened to herself, can she truly begin to accept what happened to May. And only when Laurel has begun to see her sister as the person she was -- lovely and amazing and deeply flawed -- can she begin to discover her own path in this stunning debut from Ava Dellaira, Love Letters to the Dead.
I read this book right after I read The Perks of Being a Wallflower. Maybe that is the reason this book didn't leave an impact for me, the story line being sorta similar with the other one. Nonetheless, this is book you might want t include in your list. There is something dark yet something so warm in the story of Laurel. The one thought running through my head while I was reading it was I wanted Laurel to stop thinking about May and see herself as this amazing person. But this was something she had to learn on her own and it is portrayed beautifully. The ending made me tear a bit.
Ever since I became the owner of a new gearless bike, I’ve
been promoted from a pillion rider to the one handling the vehicle. And the
view? It’s much different. After the initial two months of shaky maneuvering,
sudden brakes, and constant fear of killing myself, I’ve finally settled into
the coats of a rider and the roads before me have emerged with new light.
I realized, roads are like people. Each one its own
character, features and mood swings.
The stretch of road from my house to the next traffic signal
is a hypocrite. The breeze blows dust off its seemingly calm body, with moments
of complete silence. You blink once, or maybe watch a vine video and look up,
the widening road- before a silent friend- is now bustling with cranky
vehicles, the honking unbearable and the constant (I mean constant with a
capital C) ambulances screeching in pain.
And there is this other road that I love riding through in
evenings. Facing West, it is riding into the sunset, the sky stripped with the
setting colors. It’s aesthetic qualities aside, I’m terrified of blinking on
this road, lest I run over tiny human kids who wear grey uniforms and get camouflaged
into the asphalt. People do not understand zebra crossing here nor that fact
that a bike crashing into them can be fatal. No, they have all the luck in the
world, time on their side and they run into the traffic with no care in the
world. Scary, I tell you. You do not want to meet the personified version of
this road, they will probably make life a living hell of unwanted surprises.
There is this road that transforms into a shallow river when
it rains heavily. Thank you well designed drainage system. Venturing into this
ensures you get a shower of muddy water splattered on you and you splatter the
same muddy water on the next person. What do you call this person? Someone you
want to see only on sunny days and ignore on overcast ones.
There are roads that just hate you. Like that one person in
your school who glares at you every time even though you have no idea who they
are. No matter how safe you try to ride, slowly and steadily, you are bound to
make an error and get reprimanded by some stranger. Bad luck, I pin it to.
What’s the opposite of smooth, silky, straight stretches of
roads? One spotted with potholes, humps and downs, and everything deadly. It is
impossible to feel happy when you are on riding here. Your bones get rattled,
your new bike takes a toll, and your love for the civic government body shrinks. This road is a person who needs some immediate grooming.
Not all is bad in the world of roads. Riding through a boulevard,
the speed in your control, the bike rumbling under you, the wind whistling in
your ears. This is the man you love.
And when it rains? Hanging out with your best friend! The
muddy splashes aside and getting drenched. Celebrating the Christmas of traffic
lights that is plethora of reds, the yellows, the green, and more red, lights
that become brilliant in the rain.
You meet new people every day, new roads made acquaintances.
People are stories, so are roads. To ride undisputed under the skies and the
ground below gripping onto you. Steady. Sail. Fly.