Quite drunk
in the airport
in life, in all sorts
of awe, of starts.
Beaches, sunsets
make my heart
flutter, fleeting
yes, yet eternal too.
2026, Artherese
The words here may be few starting this year as I’ve been capturing musings more in paper these days. The reason being, I entered a nostalgic analog era in my 29th. Still, in paper or in screen, learning and discovering every day. 💚
Tracing the mountains
The edges, the curves, and terrains
That’s expansive and strong
Tall but tender, remarkable and a reminder
The strength, the miracle
That is the world, that is you.
(c) Artherese, 2025
It’s not in the grand but in the littlest things
That encompass time passing and flowing
And your heart? soaring, singing, simply beating.
It’s not in the mementos but what’s captured
In the naked eyes - raw & pure awe.
The art of living - nothing’s assured
Every day a chance for courage and change.
(c) Artherese, 2025
The magic of a place
extends for miles.
Now, I know a heart can stay
and memories can delight
and feelings, intensified
long after the fact
long after the moment
still can go back
or perhaps, still there.
(c) 2025, Artherese
Got a new friend
The stranger who held
Out an umbrella
And this little act
Became a silver line
A way to a bit of fine.
(c) Artherese, 2025
I was able to go back to our designated provincial hometown over the weekend. As a means to escape and also, to remember. This place never ceases to fill me with awe, and definitely a lot of musings.
Saturday
Today, I chose to disconnect
And in doing so, felt more
Alive, present, connected.
Contradictions coexist.
Life never falters to surprise
And delight, who knows
What you’ll discover,
What comes and goes?
Sunday
The possibilities are endless, even
With only all the stolen time and sidelines.
The act of creation is redemption.
(c) Artherese, 2025
Mornings are momentous A fork in the road between The person you’ll choose To be and embody today. It’s a struggle, a chance, a dance A fight or flight response But there is peace in Knowing you can’t change What’s done, but within There’s still room to win.
(c) Artherese, 2025
Musings from these two gems: Remarkably Bright Creatures by Shelby Van Pelt (my first novel this year – equal parts heart breaking and warming, this ride fueled me with hope and wonder) and Big Magic (my third time re-reading this but every time, I’m full of brand-new awe)
There is magic. In the fact that you’re here, despite your fears persists courage. To create. To live. To realize life as it’s happening.
Magic is an everyday choice – the pursuit of bringing forth our treasures with vigor, with awe, with wonder. Uninterrupted wonder.
There is magic. Even when it’s harsh, when the waves crash with life’s rough and ragged edges.
Again, always having and choosing to choose. To make the most, to marvel at the coincidences, and to listen – and I mean really listen – to what this universe is trying to share, show, and say: the answers you’re looking and longing for, and the questions you should replace and let go. To make space for a second chance. Or, another dance.
(c) Artherese, 2025
This start of year, mostly finding myself speechless – in awe, in feels, in hope. May I capture them more in days to come.
A Birthday Poetry
Thank you 27
If given the chance
I’ll live you again.
Here comes 28
Not stopping to wait
Well, so am I.
The coming of age
The passing of time
Is a nudge not a judge
Like cheese and wine
Older is better
Older’s the cue
To pursue, to live true
To your calling,
Finally but not
A finale.
Pep Talks
For every leap, there’s this familiar
Aftermath - the budding fear
When things are certainly uncertain.
But still, a choice to brave the unknown
To find the beat, the rhyme, the awe
For every leap, is to live.
I’m thankful I did.
And will continue to.
(c) Artherese, 2025
Created 2 poetries to start and cap the day.
I.
The water streams
as the tear streaks
and the fear leaves
and you finally live,
not merely exist.
(c) Artherese, 2024
II.
The joy from listening to music, to nature,
to the percussions that quiet the woes
and worries that your heart holds.
Or rather, held.
The butterflies that arise from the
courage to ask and reach out
despite the doubts and shouts
of what wasn't meant to be.
Or is it?
Making one believe and hope,
then realize --- isn't this nice
after all.
(c) Artherese, 2024
Artherese 