Celva

...means "moving animal" in Quenya. (See also kelvar and olvar).

Sometimes, things are so brittle it seems, they will shatter if I breathe. Sometimes they are that much stronger.

Ten years. Finally. That right there is a love-story worthy of its own book.

Walked around today. Just... walked. I forget how much I can enjoy doing that, if I've nothing to do, in a city. I miss Edinburgh and I think I'll go back soon.

Wounds are still raw and bleeding. May be more will be added, may be not so.

As soon as the winter seems to lighten its grip a little, snow returns with a vengeance. I'd not mind as much had I the chance to go skiing every day.

Am painting, and painting, and trying to paint more. It's all at Tindóme Art. Well. Most of it.

Shoulder behaving badly. But practice was a relief, even with that.

The mini-lrp with the Fair Folk of the Ödesväv campaign was really nice. Slow, sleepy but, it picked up pace, and things went... the way I/we/Dream liked them to. Also, wonderful weather, wonderful photos, and wonderful surroundings all in all.

Gothenburg was nice, a wee bit of Exalted was nice, down south was nice too even if, damnitall, that blasted cold really could've been just a wee bit less adamant on freezing my fingers off.

Re-reading "Conversations with God" by Neale Donald Walsch and enjoying it.

In other news, so much is happening, although it is as if I'm in a fast-moving sludge of things happening, rather than a whirling storm, that I can't really write much about them. But regarding one thing, I'm happy. If you isolate that very thing, I am very happy about it. Though it seems many find it strange and odd and seem to think I got over things very fast.
Believe me. I didn't. Downside with loving many? You know how things hurt with ONE person? Yah, try that, only... aye, with many.