A moment in life, spent on the side of the road

If I would've known that those moments when we were waiting, and wondering, and wanting so badly, would've been the very moments I would value the most, would that have made them not the memories I treasure so?
I remember our bikes laid down by the side of the road, I remember the intensely green grass, rain kissed and wind dried, I remember our youth. To say innocence would be a lie because we were witty and mean, we teased and pulled and tested limits. We were hopeful and dreaming and so intensively fearless. But on this day we just sat there in the grass. The things that we pretended to care about then; we knew were fleeting feelings, we weren't stupid but we were living the life that was given us while grasping at more. Those moments in between, like the silent pauses in music, are those that are closest to my heart. The moments where the unspoken knowledge that there will be so much more, that it will be so different, shone through just like the rays of the sun through the clouds that day. The symbolism of the wide horizon and our bikes ready to take us as far as we would have the power to make them take us were so screamingly obvious that we felt free. I can not remember where we went after our pondering at that green hill. If it was followed by a long night slipping into morning spent together or if we parted ways but I do know that this was not the first and far from last moment like this. On rooftops under the stars, summer nights by the lake, freezing in a snow covered forest or exploring at a construction site, so many magic places in our secret world. It was our lives we violently daringly created instead of just silently waiting. No need for others' approval, just each other's acceptance.
If we'd only known enough to appreciate it more, would that have ruined those moments with cynicism and not so false bitterness anymore? If we would've known what we known today, would we have hold on tighter or would we have ran a different direction?

I miss you, friend, I want a moment with you on a grassy hill, talking and teasing and grave honesty. I want that what matters most. Spend some time in our secret world. I want that little nook in time where only you and I and our feelings and thoughts that contain the life around us exist with mutual acceptance and vulnerability. Can we bike there please? Compete a little bit to breathlessly lay our bikes down, while the panting calms down the thoughts settle in and we ask.

Proud Empire State Building

Playing with collages

Colors and patterns...

Bar tools = work toys

Insomnia saves the day

When a box filled with cookies gets dropped off at the bar from the
shop around the corner the bar staff gets very happy... =)

Indoor sun

When it was raining last night I wanted to at least have some sun
inside... Thinking it might lure the sun out and seems like it worked;
judging by today's weather =)

Cool

Fascinated by how ice melts...

Bar photos

Non alcoholic drink to start the workday

Spec note book. Well used.

What's in the vase today... while time stands still.

Rainy Friday

So... I realized that I don't write much anymore. I work a lot these days. At a job that I love. I bartend at a cocktail bar in Manhattan, with fantastic drinks; that I'm having a fun and creative time making. The only downside to bartending is that it's long hours and the opposite hours of the rest of the world...at least so it feels at times. However, that's sometimes what I like about it too though it doesn't leave me with much time nor energy to do that much else. ...Maybe part of the reason why I don't write that much. What I do do is taking pictures. Silly things for Instagram for example. Sometimes artsy. Sometimes, often rather, of drinks or other details at work. So why not put this blog to some use...? I was thinking along the lines of a photo diary. Lets see how that goes! =)

Starting today with this since it's a rainy day...

With your breath you take mine away, swiftly without remorse. You pause, just to,  with a seemingly random timing, attack again. You sweep over my hair, combing through it, throw it over my shoulder and back into my face, almost blinding me. When I pull it away you stroke my ears, making them so cold they'd be numb if it wasn't for the pinching pain. Just like my hands that I'm trying to hide away from you. I shiver and tremblingly sigh, you're almost making me lose my breath again. You're all around me and for a moment I can swear you're inside of me, freezing my bones and my flesh from the inside.

 I do not like you much, and I'm not too fond of your touch, you chilly force of nature, you New York wind.