sitting in my reading corner I have a privileged view of the place. every piece of furniture was carefully chosen (well, almost every little piece). everything that I look, looks back at me with love. and what a ferocious power of creation love is.
a cold rainy Monday morning in London. a hidden tea room. scones, cream, jam. amy winehouse playing (and I had nothing to do with it). happiness comes in a small, ordinary box after all.