Grief sits heavy on Sundays. I take it with me to the art galleries, walks by the river and movies. It is always a bit better with nature and art.

“The stomach of the world is in spasm It is waiting for calmer waters To justify its existence And when everything dies down Die, I wanted to say Life will go on Without time” Goran Mars #WorldPoetryDay

I will blossom again. I will be wild like a Spring.

I hope I never lose my sense of wonder.

I love the wind when it blows through the bare treetops, across the North Sea, through the Highlands and fields of dafodils and into my hair. If I could, I would be the wind.

To wander, to dream, to love.

I found a poem my dad wrote to my husband when he published his first book of poetry. I never saw it before. He signed it ‘with admiration’. It made me cry and made me feel so grateful for lives of these two beautiful men who respected and loved each other. Miss them both.

Nothing can compare with laughter Kindness saves lives. Love is always the answer.

We are strong when we are together. #InternationalWomensDay

More than ever we need to love each other.

I am still just a tender heart full of wonder.

To be naked in your words.

Cheers to a beautiful life we shared. Miss you.

We must be very brave not to give up on love.

When the world becomes too much

Every now and then, in dreams, we meet, and live our beautiful, ordinary life again.

Grief, like love, expands as we age.

Light

Give me real people, faces that lived life fully. Give me raw thoughts clumsy written in a broken language of dreams. Give me unmade beds, messy lives and conversations that make me yearn for more.

I blossom quietly in the winter night.

We are ageless, timeless, we are forever.

Every day a tragedy brings us together, so yes, I still believe that kindness can change the world.

We have to hold each other, lovingly, tenderly, so that light stays in our hearts.

The quiet morning light, shinning on the blood spilled across the world, of innocent people.

To live quiet, ordinary life, far from the noise of the world. To laugh. To cherish moments. To love. That is an art.

To be truly seen, truly felt, for the woman I am. Nothing less than that.

I love the woman I am becoming.

The intimacy of the hands, knowing every curve of me, like they touched me a thousand times before.

To be your last poem, last moan, last breath. To be all that.

Tell me stories of kindness and goodness, stories of hope as they are light we need so much in these dark times. Tell me again stories how we connect, how we shine, how we laugh. Tell me of magic. Tell me of love.

A year has passed. I miss you. I love you.

You will forever be my moonage daydream. So grateful I lived in times of Bowie, saw him twice alive, married to 'Life on Mars' and changed my last name. His light, his creativity will never fade. Forever in my heart #BowieForever

Being soft in this dark world is the bravest thing.

There is always magic somewhere. There is always light.

Promise me that you will kiss me harder as nostalgia is blooming in my chest instead of flowers. Promise me that you will take me to the mountains and kiss me like we are the only two people left in this world. Promise me that you will undress me slower and kiss me longer.

Let’s hold each other’s hearts with love. Let’s hold this moment with hope. Happy New Year

May we be able to create a world where all people are kind to each other.

I want to remember this year, these hard times. I want to remember how much courage and resilience was needed to get up every morning and go on with life, despite the unbearable grief. I want to remember how my husband kissed me the last time. I want to remember love.

I remember things that will happen you will pin me to the wall spread my universe kiss me deeply that my mind will go blurry Let yourself feel my fire with your fingers your tongue When desires wash over us taking us like a whirlwind only then we will both see the light

I am just a woman lost in her dreams, rising from darkness, showing her light.

Our last walk happened on Christmas Eve last year. Hand in hand, towards the light. May you find peace, tenderness and light. Happy Christmas

How many times you laid awake, listening to the silence of the night, holding your own hand not to drown in sadness and loneliness. Trying to find the way to simply breathe.

Blossoming in the midst of the winter.

In the world full of darkness my biggest fear is to lose my passion, to stop feeling deeply, intensely about everything, and not to see beauty all around me.

This year, more than ever, I practiced the art of being grateful.

How many times in this life we laid awake waiting for the dawn praying for it to come sooner or never to come at all?

We should write letters more. I miss that. I would say: My love, this was the hardest year in my life. And yet, I never want it to end, as it was the last year we talked, laughed, cried, and loved.

Less storms. More love.

I fall in love with people who never give up on dreams.

To do better. To help more. To love harder.