A box full of unfulfilled projects, lost hopes, impossible dreams. Ready to bloom, disembark, get rotten or forgotten.
A box full of steps, twists, dances, approaches, mountains climbed, paths explored, floors tapped and destinies wished.
A box full of colourful thoughts, sketched ideas, recurring nightmares and fears, unknown doubts, bad and good stories.
My favourite perfume, the perfect jeans, a simple but exquisite pendant, loads of red kisses, some old but pretty shoes.
Marine salt from far away, avocado leave powder, dried chilies, Turkish delight, olive oil, onion flakes, mezcal & honey.
Images lost, moments forgotten, hanging places, sepia memories, a black and white childhood, a strange place in colour.
A very cold winter, three mountains, a repetitive summer, a couple of oceans, over thirty springs and fifty dance floors.
The aroma of a romantic night, a path never followed, Moroccan rose, fresh cardamom, and the perfume of a distant memory.
Sea shells, a sunburned photo, a tiny pot from a huge city, feathers of departed birds, a keepsake and a fresh memory.
Wonderful worlds written in paper, playful words, humanity at its best and worst, fantastic images and endless stories.
Ink full of notes, stories, words, watercolors, worlds to discover in graphite and clay and colorful ideas to play with.
Past dinners and future martinis, imagined dishes, the house’s specialty, and a deep longing for hot tea & berry crumble.
Series originally published in tweets @minafiction