Love of material flings, food and frocks.

The word “Love” brings about sonnets and romantic Shakespearean quotes, violins in the background, cupid arrows, red hearts and birds chirping from trees. It can also bring thunderous bolts of lightning in the pit of darkness- a crushed piece of paper, running eye-liner, tear stained tissues, a smashed vase; oh the pain, the agony, the jealousy, the sweet jolt of bitter sorrow.

To only see Love in this sense is limiting, stifling and almost foolish. There’s so many layers to this word, there’s the gut wrenching emotions, sense of total elation and the kind of innocence that at one point, greeted you with pebbles thrown against window panes.


But there’s so much more to Love….

Love of a place, and the memories attached to it.

Love of a song, its lyrics tugging at ones emotional chords.

Love of a hobby, an escapism to keep ones sanity intact.

Love of food, one of the truest universal love.

Love of the sunset, the comfort of new beginnings.

Love of nature, a sense of being knowing that someone else is staring up at the same light littered stars.

Love of shopping, the undeniable therapeutic effect it has, however short-lived.

And personally….

Love of  flipping through old journals, and the whiff of dried ink and coffee stained pages.

Love of typography, design, signs, symbols – anything that validates that I’m a sucker for packaging.

Love of  my leather cuff, its grooves from everyday wear (read: alcohol induced antics).

Love of writing, doodling and sketching, however frivolous or insignificant.

Love of shelling out the juicy meat within the shells of a crab claw.

Love of creating, be it in the form of crafts or a simple homecook meal.

Love of getting excited over a new tune, dancing alone in front of the mirror.

Love of striking a fresh match.

Love of clean sheets.

Love of spring cleaning and redecorating.

Love of capturing an image, giving it life and immortality.

Love of reinventing Twisties into gourmet finger food at cocktail parties.

Life encompasses all the little things and love comprises of many things; not necessarily found within another. While I don’t suggest that you develop an unhealthy attachment and obsession with material flings, I’m merely suggesting that you Love freely, because if you don’t have things you love, how will anyone share the things you love, with you?

Image from Kani blog:


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