Milk and Honey by Rapi Kaur


Today, I wounded up in a bookstore and sat and read a bit of this book of which I also highly recommend. It is deeply rooted,  beautifully written poetry that touches the core. In Particular, these excerpts stood out to me the most. I tell you this because it consoled this hearts thrashing and crashing waves and calmed the hurt child within and I suddenly felt at peace even only for this moment.

As I sat on the floor, in between isles of books, I realized that I became the image of me.  I felt like me, authentic, genuine, real, true… all the things that have in the past made me feel beautiful. And I did, I felt beautiful and at peace.

Funny how that works… the more I do what I love, the more I feel love swimming within me and transcends outside of me and it is then, when I feel I become the person I am meant to be.

It’s a simple concept, I know, but I forget it often. So, I am doing myself the favor of reminding myself of it.

choose love, be love, give love, love love and all that you love will mirror you in love.


goodnight darlings,

thank you for listening to me.


your bluebird


Cheers, To A Positive Life!



It has been long overdue since I’ve taken the time to write. I’ve been sulking in the shadows for too long, not realizing that not everything is so serious. Not everything needs careful analysis, and well, I have the tendency to be so negative. I forget to be lighthearted, to live in the moment, and live for the day. And so, on a positive note, it’s today and today, I will write.

“Life is short, too short to be taken too seriously. ” A 21 year-old has just taught me that. I find it amusing that I could attract a 21 year old, being that I am 30 years lived, nearly 10 years older than he. But either way, I’ll take the compliment.  I forgot what it was like to be so fresh, in thought, in life, in experience, in love. I don’t think his heart has ever been broken and he loves so willingly, unapologetically, and is unafraid. We should all love this way no matter how broken or beaten we may be.

Of course, I am not pursuing this, he is not my person, but I do find it so sweet to be courted by a very young boy, who walks me to my car, waits for me to cross the street, offers me a coat when I am cold, showers me with compliments, listens to every word I say, and buys me little things every once in a while. It’s sweet. Makes me feel like royalty and I very much like the feeling. hahah Guess, this boy came to my life to remind me of my worth. I am worth being treated lovingly, sweetly and gently. And I have never been treated this way. I have always just been a prize to be conquered or too naive to have fallen for someone who does not love me in return. I’ve been played like a game. But If I am treated like royalty, I’d reciprocate. Dare I say, I know now to wait for this, my prince, and king and no less.

I yearn for this- for this love my heart has been aching for all my life and I still have not found. But no more of this talk, I want to be happy. I want to be more positive and have a healthier outlook on life. I want to laugh, I want to dance, and sing, and joke, and not give a care in the world. I want to take midnight trips, and watch many sunsets, I want to sleep on the ocean and see some snow, go on day trip adventures to the desert and mountains and So, I will make more of an effort to go out with those who seek my company, say yes to life, rekindle my friendships and not take life too seriously. It’s time to say yes to a social life.


***Also, side note. I’ve been meaning to leave the social media world (for plenty of reasons of which I will share later) and hope to have more of a presence here instead. So, hope to be seeing you all more often.


All my best and as always, with love-





*excerpt from my book

 Memories at times anchor one to the past and while the past may have been beautiful, it is no way of living- that is like clinging on to a ghost of you- a shell that is no longer inhabited by anything living and I know this well. All too well. I’ve been living in the past for far too long and every once in a while, I travel back in time, in the memories of yesterday. When I notice myself doing this, I realize, I have had a bad day- and I remember the colorful fish in a pond from my dreams. They are a kind of rare species in this world, and two of them are dead and floating in the crystalline waters of the Los Angeles Oasis which exist only in my dreams. Two of whom I loved and adored and will always love. Blue, Yellow, Green, Red, and I killed two relationships with these rare species. I cut all ties, and I miss them so, as if limbs were taken from my flesh. God knows why, and I probably deserved it. But I have to have faith in the universe, because nothing is more beautiful than that- when all is synchronized, the winds, the ruffles of paper, it is all so magical. Yes, magic does exist, and it is always the hand of the universe that creates the miracles. How then could the desert find a spring? Or the mountain be moved by a mustard seed? Or lightning grow out of pitch black night? Or a rainbow beam through a crystal? And I have faith in that. I do, and I know this and if there is anything I know it is this and only this. 



Self-Potrait, Practicing

I’m up before the sunrise. It’s calm and quiet and I can hear the symphony of crickets outside my window. Why don’t I do this more often?

The date is 9.20.19.  I have a full day today but I wanted to sneak in some meditation time before the storm. I intend to seize today and somehow squeeze in a workout before work, a 20 minute practice with my guitar, some vocal  exercises and singing on my commute to work, a work shift at the Art Museum, and lastly extend my love to my friends which I have not seen in a while and miss, in the evening. Maybe hopefully sing? If the opportunity arises. I’m awaiting my next stage, but I have work to do. I have confidence to learn, and practice to achieve. But easy does it, and patience is key. My stage will come, I can feel it.

Life is a balance between the quiet meditation of your person and inner self, and the gift of sharing my self with those I love. I want to be more loving, more giving, but in turn I need to love myself to be able to give those I love the most of me. So, this to me is an act of self-love. And I have every  intention to spill my heart to those deserving of its honey.

Ps. Today my new guitar arrives! Finally, my very own Cordoba guitar.


with love and admiration. Always and truly yours,



Today I saw a red rose on the pavement…


Today I saw a red rose on the pavement.

 How did it get there? Why was it there? What love was rejected?

I don’t know why I stoped to look at it or why it impacted me. Was it because I thought that such a beautiful thing as a rose belongs in a glass case?

and then I turn to myself, and think of myself as that rose on the pavement. No one sees me, and I too have been abandoned on the pavement.

 I should have picked it up, and I should have put it in a glass, pressed it in a book- but I didn’t.

Instead I went on my way to sing, “Como la Flor” on my way to work.

and I didn’t consider it until now, that perhaps we accept the love we think we deserve.

The next rose I see, abandoned on the floor, I’ll make sure to pick it up and give it a proper home. just like my love deserves to be.

sincerely yours,


To speak of Importance…




Those who speak of importance speak of necessity

we must have air to breathe,

 food to eat,

a shelter to sleep

a coat- some warmth- at least!

Speak no more of necessities!

It dissatisfies me

 it is but a life with no meaning, no feeling

I need love to breathe, affection to eat!

why breath

why eat

 why live

without love

love feeds the hungry soul

laughter warms it

affection shelters it

I live for I breathe for beyond the cravings of the flesh

I live for I breathe for a spiritual sense!

What I love…


What I love… I love reading, writing, I love my coffee in the morning. I love books, film, photography. I love flowers in the Spring, eucalyptus, lavender, dried flowers pressed in my books, flowers as gifts, flowers picked from the fields, flowers from past lovers. I love nostalgia. I love candles, chocolate, and wine. I love being wild and irresponsible. I love grapes. I love eating and singing and dancing. I love nature and camping. I love travel, backpacking, hiking, I love adventure. I love Edgar Allen Poe, Mark Twain, Walt Whitman, and John Steinbeck. I love the ocean and the sea and the cliffs and the forest and the trees. I love hand-written letters and postcards, I love little notes and all my journals. I love music, and family, and food, and sharing meals. I love people, people laughing, people smiling, people crying. I love hugs, I love fires, fires that burn, fires that ember, fires that smoke. I love the rain and the moon. I love the shapes the clouds form, the colors of the sunset, and the constellation of the stars. I love magic and rooftops. I love warm Summer nights and cozy Winter blankets, I love the leaves of the Fall. I love to sleep,  to sleep with my lovers, watch films with my lovers, snuggling with my lovers, being silent with my lovers. I love talking, caressing, I love nurturing. I love my dog and my plants. I love this pen. I love this paper. I love, I love… I love the wind, the breeze, the fresh linen scent, a clean house, home cooked meals, I love brotherhood and camaraderie. I love, I love… so much but I don’t know a damn thing about how to love.


From yours truly,