the real thing

he was kneeling when he kissed her. her face a picture of calm and peace, belying the surge of emotions that consumed her being. her toes were curled, shivers down her spine. her hands clasped to his, that which held her face gently. urgently. as he kissed her skin.

who knew that after 8 years of keeping a tiny print of gustav klimt´s "the kiss" i´d see the real thing.

home is where the heart is

halfway across the world and no longer in search for my place. while i walk in awe along these beautiful cobbled streets, no longer do i carry the longing that has haunted me for years. for i have found my home. and so have many others. faces that don't quite belong have dwelled in this coast. sometimes it takes thousands of miles to bring us to where our heart is.

life does work in magical ways :)