A year ago we were in Amsterdam. Amsterdam was pretty, but also pretty grim with it’s biting cold winters. No snow, but icy winds tearing at your face, cutting you to the bone.
Bar Americaine was stunning in all its Art Deco glory. All of Amsterdam was actually full of perfectly intact old Art Deco architecture and interiors.
I might be the only one who thinks it’s fine that soap can be expensive. This is my favorite. To me, it’s well worth the 10£ I paid for it in Libertys. I like Tam Dao in every form. I have it in every form available. I think I will never tire of it.
Why is it that it’s the clothes you’re going to wear to a funeral that you end up ironing more meticulous then any others? I almost only own black attire, yet it was hard to pick something, hard to feel sure of what would be right. What would be worthy of saying good bye in. I sat there today, in The Chapel Of Ressurection, and tried to distract myself. I tried to distance myself from the coffin lacquered an almost decadent glossy red, white flowers atop it and everything that was so very…. Him. It was just like he was there, only he wasn’t, and the space where he should have been was just an aching void. It was like a void that crept inbetween all of us in that room. I kept wondering, are the hymn books salty from all the tears cried on them in here? I kept thinking: Sorrow is like a sea. It has room for all of us even though we all knew him in different ways. Sorrow is a vast ocean, we can all wade in. There is room for us all in the Marianer Grave depths.
It’s so different when it’s some one who’s not old. Someone who should still be here, who was not done with anything. So when my turn came I laid my carefully chosen white Calla lily on the coffin and told him: of course I’m wearing sandal wood today. Today I am wearing my deepest, darkest, saddest, soapiest sandalwood: Santal Nobile. I know you’d want to know. I am wondering what perfume he would have worn to my fundral, had the cards been dealt differently? Probably a ridiculously luxurious oud, like Roja Dove Fetish Pour Homme or Kilian Rose Oud. Or an inscence. I’ll never know. I’m still wondering, if he could have chosen something for his own funeral, what would that have been….? Maybe he had chosen something, for all I know. I’ll never know.