Airport Lounge Design

Air travel reminds us of who we are. Lounges, terminals, these transitory spaces, are places where souls are examined, and where good design appeals to both our logic and emotion.

They are places of waiting, waiting for love, waiting to depart, for the next phase of life to begin, the weight of the waiting can be perceived as big, sometimes even to much to bare.

They are like therapists offices for those of us willing to engage in the introspective part of our travels. Life is always about landing and taking off, isn't it? -tM 

Photography: Unknown

 

Dream A Little Dream

The Il Sereno hotel in Lake Como, Italy was designed by Patricia Urquiola and opened in 2016.

The palatial estate, the the beauty of its design, both interior and exterior are what dreams are made of. Its inspiration rests on the infinite beauty of the landscape and is evocative of romance and sexy Italian summers. 

I am hopeful of one day returning to Lake Como, and when I do, I will make it a priority to sojourn here. If only for a night or two. -tM

Acceptance

 Photography: tM

Photography: tM

Never Blame Anyone
by Pablo Neruda

Never complain about anyone, nor anything,
because basically you have done
what you wanted in your life.

Accept the difficulty of improving yourself
and the courage to start changing yourself.
The triumph of the true man emerges from
the ashes of his mistake.

Never complain about your loneliness or your
luck, face it with courage and accept it.
In one way or another it is the outcome of
your acts and the thought that you always
have to win.

Don’t be embittered by your own failure or
blame it on another, accept yourself now or
you’ll keep making excuses for yourself like a child.
Remember that any time is
a good time to begin and that nobody
is so horrible that they should give up.

Don’t forget that the cause of your present
is your past, as well as the cause of your
future will be your present.

Learn from the bold, the strong,
those who don’t accept situations, who
will live in spite of everything. Think less in
your problems and more in your work and
your problems, without eliminating them, will die.

Learn how to grow from the pain and to be
greater than the greatest of those
obstacles. Look at yourself in the mirror
and you will be free and strong and you will stop
being a puppet of circumstances because you
yourself are your own destiny.

Arise and look at the sun in the mornings
and breathe the light of the dawn.
You are part of the force of your life;
now wake up, fight, get going, be decisive
and you will triumph in life. Never think about
luck because luck is
the pretext of losers.

The message is loud and clear, never play the victim and accept yourself and the circumstances of your life. Another noteworthy poem and memo from the late great P.N. -tM

Musée Bourdelle

I love museums that aren't contrived, the Musée Bourdelle in Paris is just that. The artists home and studio turned gallery and creative treasury is open to the public most days of the week except for Monday. 

A repository of beauty and truth, a place where time has been transformed into space. -tM

Ode to the Lemon

 Photography: Unknown | Italy

Photography: Unknown | Italy

To paraphrase Pablo Neruda, the blossoms of a lemon tree always carry an aroma of exasperated love after giving birth to a lemon.

I love the freshness that lives in lemons. There lightness of colour and shape is echoed in the clarity of there flavour. Its secret symmetry can be discovered through its fragrance, discerned in part by savouring its balance of acid. It harbours within the most potent and concentrated liqueur nature has to offer in a fruit.

When engaging with a lemon, you captivate all 5 of your senses. -tM

 

Poetry

img_3457-2.jpg

Til then my windows ache

 

Matilde, where are you? Down there I noticed, 
under my necktie and just above the heart, 
a certain pang of grief between the ribs, 
you were gone that quickly. 

I needed the light of your energy, 
I looked around, devouring hope. 
I watched the void without you that is like a house, 
nothing left but tragic windows. 

Out of sheer taciturnity the ceiling listens
to the fall of the ancient leafless rain, 
to feathers, to whatever the night imprisoned: 

so I wait for you like a lonely house
till you will see me again and live in me. 
Till then my windows ache. 

Pablo Neruda

In life and in hope there are certain windows that will remain perpetually open. -tM

Photography: Unknown | Italy