Salto Angel

          I am dead in a world blooming with life. My skeleton is amongst a meadow of newborn buds. I am suspended in a realm separate from reality yet still within it. Time slips from my fingertips and I watch opportunity fade with indifference. I no longer care what happens anymore; I have no motivation to alter any part of my life. Not because I'm content with how it is, but because I'm too tired. My perception is hazy and all the substance of my being has dispersed. Anticipation for Paris, the approach of summer, and all the opportunities that exist everyday are not enough to pull me out of this comatose state. 
          I cut off all my hair in the hopes that I would feel something. Each time I brought the scissors to my head, more hair would gather on my bedroom floor. I stared at my reflection as I did it, hoping that I would detect a flinch of fear or a hesitant sigh. It would have been enough to stop me, for it would have proven that I am not utterly devoid of emotion. The sight of my severed locks evoked nothing in me except a feeling of renewal. I realized it was a moment of liberation, for my hair represented everything I had lost in the past week. Now that it was gone, I could focus on more important things like my poetry and art. This year is supposed to be my Renaissance era. Yet I'm still empty. 

Anticipation

          In ten days, I will be off to Paris. Even though my trip is rapidly approaching, it still feels so surreal. I still look at pictures of that magnificent city and long to be there, and then I remind myself that I'll be living that dream soon. I'll be walking on the cobblestone paths, looking up at my dream apartments, eating at bakeries, drinking tea at cafes, struggling to interact with the locals in my broken French, not being able to sleep due to excitement and anticipation, documenting my trip with film. and visiting art museums. I imagine myself never wanting to go back to the apartment my family is renting because there was still so much to see. I imagine myself never even wanting to come home. The town I live in seems utterly insignificant to Paris. 

          My entire life in America feels that way too. I've never belonged to a place; I've lived in so many areas and I've barely had a connection to any of them. I've always been told I looked like I belonged in Paris, that my style was Parisian. I always embraced this and I still do. I can't say for sure, but I feel like I'll discover something incomprehensible in that city.

Roses in the Snow

          Today, I didn't sleep at all. I watched as the sun rose and illuminated the mounds of snow next to the doors of my bedroom. I stepped outside and ignoring the bitter cold, took pictures of the wondrous beauty. I couldn't believe it was real and I felt the desire to capture the fleeting moment. Now I understand the magnificent spell nature casts on people. It is not something I experience often since I live in the city. In order to appreciate the wilderness in its entirety, one must go to a place where they could walk for miles and not see a living soul. That is the place where I am. Although I am somewhat surrounded by people (I'm staying at a house near a ski lodge), I have the ability to walk into a forest. This is a place that lies on the cusp of nature and civilization.
          I'm leaving this place in three days and while I find myself longing to be home, I feel like I've taken advantage of all my free time and the beauty of Idaho. I've used three rolls of film and I've accomplished a lot of things I've been meaning to do but could never get around to because of school and work and such. It's almost as if time has been suspended and allowed me to figure everything out. It's been nice. However, I'm excited to go back to reality. 

Light of my Life

          Will my obsession with Lolita ever disintegrate? Years may pass and I may become preoccupied with other things but I don't think I'll ever stop loving that book or movie. I've analyzed the nature of Humbert and Lolita's relationship many times. I've written an article about it for Femme. I've argued and conversed with countless people about how the controversy of the plot line shouldn't eclipse the beauty of their affection or the literary merit of the work. It's hard for people to accept it, and understandably so. Oh, but I swear that my great adoration will never fade for as long as I live. I could read the book a thousand times and watch the movie (the 1997 version) even more and never tire from reading about Humbert's struggle to cope with his affectionate feelings and lewd desires or from watching Jeremy Iron's look of complete helplessness as he realizes he is a slave to his love. 

          Their entire situation makes my heart ache; the deceit, the controversy of it all, the manipulation, the onset of sexual maturity, the hopelessness, the paranoia, their strange circumstances, the infatuation, the obsession, and their intimacy. Their age difference shouldn't define their relationship but it does just because they're both in completely different stages of their lives. When Humbert first meets Lolita, she is a mischievous and defiant 12-year-old girl who is oblivious to reality. She possesses an uncanny sexual nature that she is completely unaware of; however, Humbert notices it and dubs her as a "nymphet". There is something so beautiful about her unintentional sexuality. It's perfectly embodied by how she wears lipstick and provocative outfits (the movie obviously shows this more), how she initially initiates their romantic relationship, and her lack of shame when it came to her body. For me, that strange contradiction is so perfect that it's hard for me to explain how much I love it. It's hard to explain in words my feelings for Lolita. There has been many times that I will burst into tears after merely thinking about it. 

          Lolita has changed my life, as cliche as that sounds. It's hard to articulate how but it's allowed me to see a lot of things differently, especially love and the controversy around age. I don't feel love should be defined by people's age but I also realize how it can be inappropriate for an older man to have an emotional and physical relationship with a child who isn't ready for either of those. I understand that applies to Lolita and Humbert but Humbert's love is so genuine that it breaks my heart that they had to end tragically. "It was love at first sight, at last sight, at ever and ever sight." Oh, Lolita! 

Peach, Plum, Pear

          I will spontaneously get the desire to recreate my blog. I first started Bisous Mon Amour four years ago and this is the third time I've remade it. I get so disgusted due to all the chaos and clutter and I just want to have a fresh start. My last blog was really reflective of myself but it contained my past and experiences with my eating disorder. My anorexia will always be a part of me but I think my blog should reflect my current self and I am no longer in that destructive mindset. 
         Already, I'm excited to start posting about my thoughts, aspirations, and adventures! There's something about a new start that always makes me incredibly motivated. I've realized that lately I've been neglecting my blog and I hate it. For a while, it was starting to become a chore and it shouldn't be like that. Blogging should be relaxing and enjoyable; and a way to share your thoughts and connect with other people who have similar interests as yourself. In retrospect, I realize that if I never started blogging, my life may be completely different. As cliche as that sounds, it's the truth. I wouldn't know all my internet friends, I probably wouldn't have started taking pictures, and I wouldn't have created a magazine. It's strange to think how a single decision can have such a tremendous impact on your life.
          I have a few ideas and goals for this new blog but I still have a lot to think about. I feel like I have the ability to reinvent myself, in a way and it's exhilarating. These photos do not belong to me, click on them to find their original source.