Marseille felt effortless.
Marseille felt like going back home.
Bathed in sun and caressed by the sparkly Mediterranean sea that haunts the dreams of all south European expats, life in Marseille moves at its own slow, calculated, resilient pace despite being France’s second largest city after Paris. Continue Reading
You’re not getting any younger.
Of course I’m not getting any younger, do you think that people are Benjamin-Button-ing in real life?
Also, I happen to like my age. I live on my own (well, with a flatmate but still not at my parents’), travel without a stewardess having to hand me crayons and papers after fastening my seatbelt (even though crayons sound really good), vote, can order drinks legally but, at the same time, still do a downward facing dog as well as a proper pull-up. OK, the last one might need require some additional effort but you get the picture.
What are weekends made for? Short escapades, you guessed right. This time we’re heading to Brussels, the capital of Belgium and beating heart of the European Union, to practice the ancient art of retrouvailles with an old uni friend.
First tip to visiting Brussels: Pack a Frenchie with great negotiations skills. You can thank me (and them) later.
For Brussels, I left the camera home as I did not want anything to stand between the city and me; I wanted to soak in the city vibes and focus on the details: the way people talk, walk, dress, drink, the different architecture styles, the smell of fresh waffles in the streets, the store fronts, the murals. Continue Reading
“Cities have sexes: London is a man, Paris a woman, and New York a well-adjusted transsexual.” ― Angela Carte
Strong. Independent. Confident. Unbreakable. These are the first words that come to mind when I look at this photo series taken by Kate T. Parker, an Atlanta based photographer specializing in family & children’s portraiture.
Once upon a time, on a cold London night I was having drinks with some friends. A bunch of smart, well-educated guys well into their academic careers and with a far reaching spectrum of interests and opinions. I arrived late, having endured yet another hectic day at work, and inquired about their news as I hadn’t seen them in quite a while.
Over laughs and ironic remarks, the conversation was unfolding well until… Continue Reading
Imitation is the ultimate flattery, they say. In an attempt to imitate my brother’s approach to the things he loves, I decided to start embracing my guilty pleasures.In case you haven’t read my previous post on all the things I’ve learned from my somewhat younger but somehow wiser brother D, he is the kind of person that has the admirable quality of being shamelessly affectionate towards certain things (or people) without caring about other people’s opinions. So that’s what I aspire to do, embrace my guilty pleasures and share them openly; shifting them to the category ‘Things I Wholeheartedly Love (and That Make My Eyes Sparkle with Joy When I Talk About Them).
When I say guilty pleasures, I refer mainly to cultural artefacts of questionable quality. In a world where the world cool will one day become acceptable even for resumes and LinkedIn profiles, one has to watch/read/visit/listen/be informed about the right things so as to classify as cool. And this is, more or less, how the idea of guilty pleasures began. The term sums up all the things we enjoy but only in private so as not to be judged for our tastes.
Goals, unlike resolutions, have a finite end. It is ‘I will run a marathon’ vs. ‘I will exercise more often’; ‘I will save enough to take a trip to New Zealand’ vs. ‘I will be more careful with my spending’; ‘I’ll graduate with distinctions’ vs. ‘I will study every day and not only the week before the exams’.
One of my 2016 goals was to read 40 books in a year.
To adopt a resolution you have to decide what you want from life.
Well, in 2017, I wish to be … happy.
Happier, to be precise.
Resolutions. Some make them, some avoid making them, many get over-optimistic about them, few end up keeping them.
I’m a resolutions person. At the beginning of each year, I enjoy imagining that this year, this specific year will be different. Don’t get me wrong, they always are. Just not in the ways that we expect them to be. Continue Reading