dewdrops

welcome to dewdrops, loves. it's been a while, but as usual... sit back, relax, and enjoy -- preferably with some tea...

Monday, December 12, 2016

watercolors

hi loves,

it's finals time, and i haven't been able to write much...
BUT i have been playing with watercolors!
iv'e only used them two times... but it seems the possibilities are endless!
enjoy <3
i PROMISE i'll be back soon
WITH MORE OF THIS WATERCOLOR TOO NO MATTER WHAT because i love this




Monday, November 21, 2016

blue

, they say, is sad
but like everything,
it also has a good side.
blue... is beautiful.

Canada <3
Tahoe

a very blurry hydrangea

it's not even midnight, but imagine...

that was quite dark...

sometimes, I get little tidbits in my brain

and thoughts swirl around without enough content to post, but i'd like to try this...

now, entertain me and just imagine...

a girl, visiting a dentist: "I get cavities just to see him," she says in a singsong voice.

what would the dentist think?

whoops

sorry darlings
that came out of nowhere
here's something else, because why not?
i've been arguing with myself
i wasn't sure whether or not i should post this
but since my brain is fried
and apparently can't think of anything light
here you go, loves


Goad me to madness, won't you?
Let the cold blue blade taunt me,
Let it nestle between my costals and take my breath away,
Here it lies next to me, in its temporary sheath,
Let my hand guide it to its forever home,
Buried deep in my chest.

a raw explosion

WAVES OF MEMORY AND TIDES OF EMOTION HIT ME AND BLIND ME AND DRIVE ME INTO A FRENZIED FROTHING LIKE A WAVE BREAKING ON THE JAGGED ROCKS OF A CLIFF

Tuesday, November 8, 2016

oh say can you see

my friends, I am really scared.
what is in store for the future of my country?
I am keeping track of the election as I write this.
each point that Trump earns, my heart sinks lower.
the Canadian immigration website shut down...
wish us luck, loves
send help xoxo

Sunday, October 23, 2016

i'm ok, but...

i can only think of depressing stuff right now... tell me if you want to hear it, or if you want to keep dewdrops the shimmery grey that it is now and not turn it darker

Thursday, October 6, 2016

adagio in autumn

I do quite regret not taking pictures, although I don't think digital photos could have served it justice~

a step back in time -- photo from 2014

Walking through a quiet neighborhood in a crisp autumn evening, I can't help but notice the blue gradient of the sky above and the moon scintillating shyly near the horizon, but a small sliver of her full, glowing complexion. Wisps of periwinkle clouds sweep gently across the navy blue, and a soft breeze teases the tips of the trees, rustling the leaves in its path. Crickets chirrup in unison, and the occasional wise, old, katydid interrupts with a tsk-tsk, disapproving of the fresh-faced world around it. The vacant street tapers to a point as it leads over a slope, and warm lights flank the jet-black asphalt. Gazing up at me from the foot of the hill, the city is a coruscating kaleidoscope of pumpkin, amber, and crimson, winking at me, daring me to soar over its busy avenues in a single sweeping scan. Overwhelmed by the subtle beauty of nature colliding with humanity, As the wind intensifies, swirling around me, lifting a few stray leaves into a swishing waltz, I close my eyes and sway along, in harmony with my surroundings. With my sight taken away, my other senses strengthen. My fingertips pulse as the energy in the air shifts. The wind enters my mind and sweeps my scattered thoughts, allowing me to focus on everything and nothing simultaneously. An earthy scent wafts its way into my mental scenery, and the leaves from above offer a small whiff of the first carpet of fallen fronds yet to be woven by nature herself. A warm, fulfilling darkness slowly blankets the neighborhood, but as I open my eyes, blues and golds flood my vision further enhanced by the cantata softly playing around me.

Wednesday, September 28, 2016

sonnet 65: shakespeare

Good day, loves~

This here today is not my writing (obviously). It belongs to none other than the esteemed Shakespeare whose skill level I can hardly even dream of reaching. Enjoy Sonnet 65, a stunning work of his that has been emblazoned in my memory since I first read it in middle school.

Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea,
But sad mortality o'er-sways their power,
How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea,
Whose action is no stronger than a flower?
O, how shall summer's honey breath hold out
Against the wreckful siege of battering days,
When rocks impregnable are not so stout,
Nor gates of steel so strong, but Time decays?
O fearful meditation! where, alack,
Shall Time's best jewel from Time's chest lie hid?
Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back?
Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid?
O, none, unless this miracle have might,
That in black ink my love may still shine bright.

Tuesday, September 20, 2016

capturing infinity

shoutout to my amazing math buddy annabelle for helping me stay alive through countless hours of tedium...

We can dance,
waltz with the breeze.

Catch the fireflies,
and set them all free.

We can run along the horizon,
'til we reach the sea.

Seize the sunset,
and splatter red, blue, gold streaks across the sky.

But we can never capture infinity,
the step ahead of you is the end.
Yet there's always something in front of you,
always... and forever running free.

Thursday, September 15, 2016

cinderellen?

Let's get one thing straight -- I absolutely abhor this Prince Charming, but now I'm stuck with him for the rest of my life.
Are you confused? Because so was I when I was dragged forcefully away from my loving foster mother.
Ella and I were born as identical twins, and when I say identical, I really mean... identical.
Well, at least physically... It also didn't help that our mother and father decided to name us Ella and Ellen. Let me tell you, we couldn't be any more different. Don't get me wrong -- we were in cahoots with each other and loved each other very much, but our personalities have major differences.
As a child, I was clumsy and lacked the elegance Ella had, while she was perfect in my parents' eyes. They loved us both, but when it came to social outings, I was to stay away from them in case I caused a major catastrophe and watch from afar as they flaunted my twin sister's talents and looks. Her dresses were always so much better than mine, but I couldn't hate her because she was just too kind. I honestly love her so much, and she loves me, too. Sometimes, she would give me some of her dresses to wear, but to be honest, I loved wearing those things called jumpsuits. In my mind, they were just as elegant as those twirling gowns, but obviously, since society simply would not accept a woman wearing any type of pants, I wasn't really allowed to wear them. 
After Mother died, Father was bereft until he finally found that monster of a stepmother. While I ran away and lived with a foster mother whom I love dearly, and I know for a fact that she loves me just as much, Ella was too obedient to follow me, so she was stuck being the underdog. Day in and day out, she sent me messages with doves, despairing, but hopeful that one day she would be able to lead a better life. I always wrote back, comforting her, reassuring her that her good deeds would one day be returned to her.
Little did I know that that would have happened, if only Prince Charming and his assistants weren't so dimwitted.
Night after night, Ella gushed on and on about the balls and the love of her life, thanking her fairy godmother and always wishing that I was there along with her. She was so enchanted by this turn of events, and I couldn't help but also experience them through her writings to me. That is, until she lost her shoe on the last night. Her tear marks blotted the ink, and little circles of wrinkles were scattered across the parchment as she lamented that would never see him again. When news arrived that dear Prince Charming was riding around the kingdom to find his mysterious love, Ella once again gushed and hoped and dreamed so much that I feared she would be lost among the stars forever. Her happiness was infectious; I fueled her excitement, sure that they would soon be reunited.
However, in one fell swoop, everything went wrong. Our house happened to be before Ella's on the Prince's route around the kingdom. My foster mother, ever my supporter, encouraged me to try it on, just for kicks. I don't know where our fairy godmother's spell went wrong, but the shoe slipped on and fit perfectly, and I instantly remembered Ella's rant about how surprisingly comfortable her crystal heels were. Before even double checking, Charming picked me up, spun me around, and kissed me hard right on the lips. Feeling disgusted and violated, I pranced away with only one shoe on, since I obviously didn't have the other. When I tried to inform him of this fact, he blew it off and kissed me passionately once again. I couldn't exactly fight him; after all, he was a prince, and I but another of his subjects, but definitely not who he thought I was. I "giggled," swiping furiously at my lips in a futile attempt to erase the memory of this violation. As we stepped out of the house, I could barely eke out a fake smile and wave to the crowd in the streets. On the ride back to his castle, I tried as hard as I could to convince him that it was my twin sister, even going so far as to make him turn back, saying that I had forgotten a precious possession of mine to show him the letters Ella had written to me. Nothing seemed to faze the love-blind fool, and I couldn't do anything except call a dove and send it to my poor sister.
Weeks went by, and families came in a constant stream, each claiming that I was not his true love, and that their daughter was in fact the one whom he was so infatuated with. Yes, even those who had tried on the shoe. Thankfully, he wasn't idiotic enough to waste time with those who didn't look like me or Ella. As a last attempt to help my sister, I sent for Ella and organized a meeting for the Prince and her, but he refused to believe that she was the one he truly loved.
The wedding passed, a terribly garish deformity in my painting of memory. Soon, I was officially the crown princess, and there was nothing I could do. As I came to know Prince Charming better, I simply hated him more. I don't know how he managed to seem intelligent during the ball, but I think that he purged his mind of all that he had learned in preparation for that fete. He had a childish innocence which some could see as charming, but I simply saw it as a fatal flaw in a to-be king. Not only that, but he obviously also rushed into making decisions and completely skipped over any details.
Now, I feel as if I am that overly exasperated mother, having to correct her child at every turn, and what makes matters worse is that I don't have a millionth of the patience that Ella has. I'm terribly sorry, Ella, wherever you may be. If only I could switch places with her without this overly protective idiot realizing... I would even work for her stepfamily if it meant escaping this moronic prince and allowing my twin the happiness she deserves.

Wednesday, August 24, 2016

swings

Night gently sweeps in over the longest day of the year. The silence hanging in the dry air is only occasionally broken by the waltz of swaying trees. Lamps light the lonely park, glowing a soft gold against the velvety backdrop of the starless night sky. The full moon, usually an iridescent pearl suspended in the sea of darkness, blushes a shade of soft crimson. Nearing the deserted playground, I hear a steady rhythm of creaking, squeaking, swinging chains. I find myself creeping slowly towards the source of the noise, although my conscience screams at me to keep my distance. Don't do that... you've always made fun of horror story characters because they went and investigated the noise, yet you're doing the same... I hesitate, and then, despite my brother's warnings in the distance and my mind being split in two, I shrug and advance boldly. What could be the worst outcome? An annoying new acquaintance? After all, this is real life, not a movie. As I draw near, I see the swings swaying steadily, and a girl with long, tangled hair covering her profile, humming softly, sweetly... Approaching cautiously, I sit on the swing beside hers, dangling my feet. Maybe, after sensing that I could be a potential friend, she slows down and finally stops her temporary parabolic flight. The rusty moonlight casts a shattered halo on her wild mane. Hi, she greets in a beautiful, tinkling voice. As she turns, eyes lowered and lashes brushing her cheeks, she looks up shyly.


It was only then that I saw her blank, lifeless eyes.
She tilted her head and smiled an unnaturally wide smile, more enthusiastic than I would have expected from such an expression in the windows to her soul.
Her head didn't stop tipping at that point; she twisted her neck around, owl-like, until an audible crack resounded through the deserted park, leaving her leering at me upside-down.
Dead fish-eyes suddenly flashing bright, each a sanguine orb, the chiming voice returned, joined with a Greek chorus ranging from the deepest baritone to the highest soprano, all in unsettling unison, all emanating from the one thing in front of me -- Play with us, play with her, play with us... we are having fun, we joined her, like you joined her, on the swing, now we are one, play with us...


The mantra rang in my head, drowning out my conscie-- play with me. Play with us. I joined her. Join me here. Now We Are One.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anyway, yes... My brother and I did go to the park and heard the swings. We then did, in fact, go TOGETHER to play on the swings. Well, he didn't get on, crediting the fact that he was "too old," although we all know swings are for all ages, right? :) As a passionate science-lover, he pointed out to me that no matter the weight or size of the person on the swing, we all will be swinging at the same maximum height. The next time you are down, or believe that you will never be on equal footing as someone else, remember... On a swing, we are all the same. Why not extend that into our everyday lives? We, as humans, are fundamentally the same, and the world around us treats us no differently, whether we may be weighed down by worries or floating with pure joy, whether we may physically weigh more or be as light as a feather. There is nothing else stopping you from achieving your goals except you. It is up to you to put in the work to swing to the top, no matter how many times gravity pulls you down. It is up to you to put in the work to reach your goals, no matter what problems may beset you. Always remember this, and don't let anybody ever hinder your path to success.


other inspiration:

- on the night of the summer solstice of 2016, a phenomenon called the strawberry moon occurred, which means that the moon appeared slightly red.

Tuesday, August 16, 2016

by one's own will

Locked in a sterile room
By one's own will.
Variance drained from life
By one's own will.

Kept afloat by measly promises
Forged through one's own will.

Hypnotized by failure into pursuit of the blandest success.

Monday, August 8, 2016

opus no.1, foul weather

the language of dreams
a symphony in my heart
beat by beat
I believed we'd never part
then it stopped --
and the rain crashed to an end
and then the garish sun shone again

Sunday, July 10, 2016

darkness and beauty

black beauty...
the death of a rose,
a shadow on the moon,
crimson pearls of blood suspended in midair.

remember when time still ran on light feet
flanked by angels stretching their wings?



// I forgot to say that I found the magnetic poetry site on unadorned gifts, an amazing blog by an amazing person

how deep is your love

when will you love me as I love the sea,
love
every
single
one
of the million salty water droplets...


// i'm obsessed with the magnetic poetry site now...

forest friends

forest friends
yet to show
though you recall the spring
as if they were there


// inspiration:
http://magneticpoetry.com/pages/play-online

Saturday, July 9, 2016

food

feast naught but thine eyes upon the vittles of the soul.

Monday, April 18, 2016

dewdrops

Delicate crystals and pearls rolling along a fresh blade of grass in the misty morning...

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens...
"Dew-drops are the gems of morning, But the tears of mournful eve!" -- Samuel Taylor Coleridge

These droplets convey beauty. Simplicity. Elegance. Fresh starts and a clear mind. Serenity, and inner joy. Tears and sadness. Thousands of nuances. However, one thing can be agreed upon: dewdrops are always beautiful.

And now, loves, the namesake of my humble blog!








praise thee, phone camera

Sunday, April 17, 2016

thoughts and rants #4: ILY

I love you.
Love ya.
ILY.
ilu.

Some people may say that there is no difference between any of these. After all, they are all nothing but alterations of the poignant three-word phrase, "I love you." However, I feel as if although they do seem like they have exactly the same meaning, the full form seems to strike deeper in one's heart and hold more significance.
I'm sure that many people, like me, have experienced that sensation of the sentence's strength straining against mental dams that keep its utterance lodged in the back of your throat. Split seconds of a dry swallow later, the phrase is forced back down again and instead replaced by a strangled, meeker version.

So, what is "love?"
As a toddler and elementary school student, I was repulsed by the word and would melodramatically gag if it were to ever reach my ears. "Love" evoked mushy scenes of Disney couples kissing and fairy tales where the prince would always have to be the saviour. Splashy scenes in the evening as couples met on sidewalks to share a passionate moment. Sequences that my childish mind could not bear.
I guess that at this time, love meant something that made everyone act harebrained. Love was a dreamland that disconnected people from the real world. A sweet, twisted, rose-coloured nightmare. Searching the deepest depths of my soul in hindsight, I think that maybe, I saw love as a monster that took the attention away from me, a cute little girl, the supposed apple of everyone's eye.
However, here was a nebulous thought in my head that whispered that love could also mean love towards friends and family, but I often ignored that notion.

This definition was still almost the same even as I ran to school, proud of the fact that I was already a sixth-grader, though now I knew that there were two types of love -- couples' love, and friend or family love. The fear of using the phrase was still deeply rooted in my mind, and I still felt squeamish about seeing what would be classified as "normal" acts of affection in public.

Although two years does not seem like much time, it has been enough time for my views of love to change drastically. Last year, in seventh grade, I am sad to say that I succumbed to a crush. I wouldn't say that I was depressed, but it was quite a dark time to go through. It was not only because of a trivial infatuation, but also of events happening around me that I could not do anything about. To keep it short, I'll just say that I felt as if I was drowning in the world around me, and that I was inferior to everyone else. Mask upon mask of happiness and shackle upon shackle of anxiety obstructed my view and bound me from the freedom I deserved. To escape my own issues, I began to aid everyone around me. It was around this time that I restarted dewdrops. I believed that in order to truly be good enough, I would have to gain the approval of others around me. I thirsted for attention and, I guess, love. Finally, in the middle of this schoolyear, I began to seek other ways of seeing the world. I found joy and love everywhere, and I could finally see that my friends and family all LOVED and supported me. I needed no significant other, for that was only one type of love. Sure, it would be nice, but I knew that middle school relationships were usually superficial and, more often than not, unable to last. Through that tumultuous year, I found that I was here to help everyone and spread my views instead of staying shut in my shell.

Now, I see love as a deeper emotional bond for true friends, family, and, occasionally, a significant other. It is not when one's own happiness depends on another's wellbeing, but instead when the mutual respect, admiration, and support for each other builds upon the joy of both. When one is feeling down, the other, by giving love, can restore the person's faith in his or herself and pull through whatever may be the problem. It is when one helps without expecting anything in return because it is known that the favor will be returned in some way. Frankly, these words do not do the meaning of love any justice at all. However, I have attempted to describe it to the best of my ability.

Today, I am able to confidently say "I love you" to... loved ones (obviously), and since I know the feeling is true from at least my side, I can say it without stuttering. This does bring up the issue of thus lessening the prominence of this sentiment through overuse, but maybe that's for another time... <3

Some of you may be thinking, then what about unrequited love? True unrequited love? Or infatuation? The line, I think, is blurred. Here, it is when you place their happiness before your own. If something happens that makes them happy, you also feel content, not because it may have turned out the way that you wanted it to have, but because they themselves are satisfied. Sometimes, however, I feel as if it is simply the need for another's attention, or the need for someone to see you as you see them.

One thing, though -- I love you all :) Thank you for supporting me.

What do you think of love? Remember that these are my thoughts, and everyone's view of love is different. There is no right or wrong... it's all a matter of perception. :)



Tuesday, April 12, 2016

a kiss on the nose

My mother kissed me on the nose, and I scrubbed it off viciously.
No, I didn't throw it away, I smeared the love across my cheeks as war paint in the battle of life :)

Friday, April 8, 2016

snippets

A little something new in terms of content coming to my blog!
I find that my brain oftentimes gives me a beautiful phrase that I might be able to use in my writing...
if only I had a piece where I could fit it in!
These will be coming to you in the form of snippets.
Feel free to use them if you would like, but if you would like to publish a work with it inside, I would love a little credit for my work where it is due :)

Thank you loves!

Thursday, April 7, 2016

shades // year I

Behind the sleek glass doors of a towering skyscraper in the center of Chicago, Whytte and Blanc sat in two plush, chairs of snow. The light aqua tint of the glass panes and door were the only hues other than white present in the room. Only type A directors were allowed on this level. Type B and C could only stay in the lower half of the building. Any lower than C could not even step foot here. Already, the black gradient of the other levels tainted the elevator and common rooms. The pristine, monochrome world of the tower was the most prestigious association in all of society. No, reds, oranges, blues, yellows, no other colors could be in here... only types A to C, white to black, were allowed.

"We need to recruit a Type A for this commercial... No one likes type B or C actresses anymore."
"Are you kidding?" Whytte retorted, "Slate is the actress with the highest popular demand right now! Why can't we --"
"Because she's a B type. I'm telling you, no one will like the commercial if there's a filthy grey!" Blanc spat out the last word as if it were bitter poison.
"What? You told me that you didn't want to recruit any of them because it wouldn't fit the color scheme!"
"Well, that's not much better, is it?" Blanc shot a look at Whytte and took his glasses off, proceeding to resignedly clean the lenses with a white silk handkerchief. "Look, I know that you're a new employee here, but none of the companies like B and C anymore. They only want the shining diamonds -- the pure, white class of type A. And frankly, I feel the same way."
"There's nothing wrong with Slate or any greys or blacks, now is there? They're just born one color or another."
"There is something wrong. Their colors are wrong. Tainted. No one wants them. They're outcasts."

Whytte couldn't find a way to argue against this false logic so that his superior would listen, so he sighed and went back to flipping through possible candidates. Blanc was looking at him, he could tell, even though it seemed as if he were too busy with his flying fingers on the clacking keys of his computer. Every time a B or C model came up for review, there would be a strange, hair-raising bitterness that washed through the room, its waves flooding over his shoulder from where his employer sat, subtly scowling.

They're all better than Type A actresses, yet they still find themselves blocked by their rank, Whytte breathed to himself. He walked out of the room, unable to bear the starchy stiffness of the unflappable institutional atmosphere.

Monday, April 4, 2016

H E L L O

It's been too long! Hello loves, I'm back from a China/Taiwan excursion! Yes, they are two different places -- don't worry, I know :)

I've been pestering myself to post more, but for some reason, I always run out of time... Maybe I procrastinate too much...

BUT, as I always say, no excuses! Feel free to comment if I haven't been posting enough, and I'll make sure to get back to work ;-;

one fresh post coming soon <3

Thursday, March 10, 2016

time flies

time flies... and so do chickens!
Here are my chickens. This was taken a few months ago, and now they're even bigger...
Sorrel, the rooster, is crowing every morning, and I hope that he won't disturb the neighbours too much :D



This picture kind of reminded me of a poem that I want to share with you all :)
(not written by me)

The Red Wheelbarrow
          William Carlos Williams

so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens.

okay, maybe it's not a perfect match... but you see the similarities, right? :)

later, loves <3

** this was a short post -- hope I'll be able to actually write more soon! **

aye-aye

oh dear!
it's been a while, hasn't it?
I have no good excuse -- sorry for my absence and all you faithful readers out there <3
I'll be back tonight right after I finish this truckload of homework, loves :)

Wednesday, January 6, 2016

red rum?

"Red Rum" is screamed
and all is still,
Witnesses on the sidelines,
habeas corpus fulfilled.

need a hint?

** HINT **
spell red rum backwards :)