๐๐ฎ๐ฉ๐ก๐จ๐ซ๐ข๐
๐บ๐๐๐๐๐๐
๐ ๐ญ๐๐๐๐๐๐, ๐บ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐บ๐๐๐๐๐
She exhales, breathing the spicy floral scent out her system. Itโs one of those days, when Smeraldo fills her lungs with piquant, pepper undertones of carnations. She breathes through her mouth, tasting the nausea. She ticks the box a little too hard.
๐ฟ๐๐ก๐๐, ๐กโ๐๐ฆโ๐๐ ๐๐ ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐กโ๐๐ ๐๐ข๐ก ๐ก๐ ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ก.
๐ฟ๐๐ก๐๐, ๐ โ๐โ๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ฆ.
๐ฟ๐๐ก๐๐..
Her stomach tightens, perilously close to spilling her guts out. โIโll be outside.โ
He comes in like the brisk and cold breeze biting her skin, like the growing thunders in her chest. Like the blurry pictures of people playing in her mind, in her eyes - people she never know. The sad cadences of laughters and voices in her head. Familiar and unknown.ย
โItโs the fucking carnations,โ she hissed under her breath.ย
๐ฟ๐๐ก๐๐, ๐กโ๐๐ฆโ๐๐ ๐๐ ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐กโ๐๐ ๐๐ข๐ก ๐ก๐ ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ก.
๐ฟ๐๐ก๐๐, ๐ โ๐โ๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๏ฟฝ๏ฟฝ.
๐ฟ๐๐ก๐๐..
The cadences of the bell impedes her small jaunt outside. He steps inโwhite shirt striking amidst the rich spectrum of colors inside the flower shop.ย
She holds the door open for him. โWelcome," the smile almost didn't reach her eyes.ย
And his, the surface of a still pond. โHi.โ
He comes inside, and she outside.ย
โโ
She doubles over, knife slashing through skin.
ย "๐๐ตโ๐ด ๐ฅ๐ข๐ฏ๐จ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ด!"
"๐๐ฌ๐ข๐บ, ๐ฃ๐ถ๐ต ๐ค๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ด๐ช๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ณ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ด: ๐ ๐ฅ๐ฐ๐ฏ'๐ต ๐ค๐ข๐ณ๐ฆ. ๐โ๐ฎ ๐จ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ฏ๐ข ๐ฅ๐ฐ ๐ช๐ต."
"๐๐ฐ๐ฐ๐ฌ. ๐๐ข๐ช๐ต. ๐๐ฐ๐ต ๐ข๐ญ๐ญ ๐ฐ๐ง ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ช๐ฅ๐ช๐ฐ๐ต๐ด ๐ข๐ต ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ค๐ฆ."
The voices go on, a cacophony of symphony accompanying the beating of pain. Time crawls so slow, history lost.ย
๐ฟ๐๐ก๐๐, ๐ โ๐โ๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ฆ.
๐ฟ๐๐ก๐๐..
โโ
โAre you okay?โ
She stands, the voices drifting away.. away..โMy.." She starts, unsure. But the urge to talk to him consumes her that if she doesn't she knows he'll drift away like the kids in the back of her mind. "My condolences.โ
Heartbreaking. โThanks." His smile is heartbreaking. "Bye.โ
She remains still, her eyes followed himโand into his car, their eyes meet in his rearview mirror for a while, until he speeds away. She remains still.
๐พ๐๐ ๐
๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐?
๐ฟ๐๐ก๐๐, ๐ โ๐โ๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ฆ.
๐ญ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐?ย
๐ฟ๐๐ก๐๐..
๐ญ๐๐ ๐๐๐?
๐ฟ๐๐ก๐๐..
The wind howls whispers in her ears.
The clouds hang low and heavy in the sky.ย
Perfect day for a funeral.
โ Found this in my notes. I remembered writing this and revising and revising until finally giving up. It's the original plan we had for this character and its raison d'etre but things happened and its a waste to let this rot in my hundred list notes. Anyways, stay safe lovelies! ๐ณ๐๐๐๐๐!
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๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐
four sisters reigned the current household of the Rothschild family, their only goal to keep the house the most powerful in the living realm
Alfa - the crown
Anja - the shield
Aqua - the scepter
Asha - the sword
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๐จ๐น๐ฉ๐น๐ฌ ๐ซ๐ฌ ๐ด๐ฌ๐ด๐ถ๐ฐ๐น๐ฌ
#thepenandtheartistย
๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐
๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐ฐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐. And I want tell you: โright awayโ. But no, that wasnโt true, it wasnโt even after a year or two. It took almost a decade before I confessed. What spurted the conversation, the confession it led to, I couldnโt remember. But that was how we always were, so lost in the world of our own, in languages only we know.ย
My back was to him, ashamed of every word that escaped my lips, peeling off the shell that hold the superficial beauty I presented the world. It was unbearable, humiliating, to be at someoneโs mercy. To be sure of myself one moment and then crumble at his every word next.ย
Why then? Why only then? Oh, because I was afraid. The lie wrapped me in silk, the promise of a lulled sleep and outside was a walk of shame and thorns โ of starting over again, of wagers of hearts, of trust and betrayal, the shaky ground of uncertainties, of trying again and never knowing when it will end, if it will ever end.ย
It was a wager, a prayer. I waited for the bed to tilt; his side easing empty, footsteps falling further away and the door shutting close, locked away in the dungeon of my foolish hopes. I was prepared then, for him to walk away โ for who would stay for a good so damaged? But he was an oddity, an anomaly โ he took me whole โ with skin scarred rotten and blood ugly black. With fangs hidden under smiles and eyes like knives. And so selfish, so selfish, so selfishโฆย
โI love you.โ Despite, despite, despiteโฆย
How wondrous this moment. To flay your skin of insecurities and fears and doubts and truths and be cradled to sleep, in a lullaby so old. To close your eyes to dream, fearless, for at last reality is better than the dream.ย
How wondrous!ย
To be loved and cared for still,ย
like a firm ground after a series of rollercoaster.ย
๐จ๐๐
๐๐๐๐, ๐ฐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐
, ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐ฐ ๐๐๐๐.
โ Thank you, Holly Kertia and Arbre De Memoire for this event. For asking me to be part of it. I've been vocal about how I don't think I can do it but you believed in me (surprisingly since I am rarely here & so rarely write). I am not confident, I was never confident. But writing is my way to explore the what ifs & so despite my crumbling self, I struggle still. This piece is something I am not proud of and it took a friend to read this to realize that it isn't because of the writing (I already know I am not great), not exactly. It's the content. My hesitation lies in the laying down of my deepest experience, a major turning point in my life, and I am writing it, for everyone to read and see and judge and do I really want that? Do I open a chapter of my life for the world to look upon, to do as they please? And I realized how each piece, we lay down a piece of ourselves and for that reason, each of them by itself is already so precious, so wonderful and more than enough reason to be celebrated. More than enough reason to be appreciated. Thank you, Holly. Without this, I will continue walking this life, never knowing I am missing an important piece of this big puzzle. Thank you. I wished Arbre de Memoire the greatest of successes and I am always here to support you and if you need help, you have me at your disposal.
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๐๐ฆ๐๐ซ๐๐ฅ๐๐จ ๐
๐ฅ๐จ๐ฐ๐๐ซ๐ฌ
๐๐ฅ๐จ๐๐ง๐ ๐๐ญ๐ซ๐๐๐ญ
๐โ๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐ก ๐ก๐๐๐ ๐กโ๐๐๐ ๐๐ฆ๐๐ ๐๐๐ก, โ๐ ๐ค๐๐ ๐๐ข๐ก๐ ๐๐๐ ๐กโ๐ ๐๐๐๐ค๐๐ ๐ โ๐๐.
He had regarded with an interest she alluded to a childโs, the sunflowers bathing under the sparse warmth of the sun that eluded London those days.ย
He had smiled, apologetic, when he caught her looking that he probably misinterpreted for he scrambled off and disappeared the street of Sloane.ย
But even then, she remembered him.ย But only after the second time that she found out why.ย
It was his eyes.ย
He had gone farther inside the flower shop, lightly touching the leaves, smiling and frowning in sporadic intervals. She had not ascertained which flora elicited which, for she had been utterly rivetted by his eyes. So green, almost serpentine, and she wondered how beautiful, how fitting he had been standing among the flowers and plants.ย
She had caught her breath when he turned her way and asked, โ๐ฐโ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐, ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐โ
โ๐ป๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐โ๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐,โ she managed. โ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐.โ
He had stood frozen in a moment in time inaccessible to her. Later, when she would summon a memory of him, it was that look in his eyesโlong and far awayโthat she would remember first.ย
Then he said, โ๐ฐ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐, ๐๐๐๐.โย And he had gone out the door.ย
It had been his voice, a soft whisper of apology, that announced him the first day of spring. He walked slowly inside and paused. Haydnโs Sonata No. 50 had been faintly playing that day, her personal salute to the blooming season.ย
โ๐ฐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐,โ heโd said and she smiled. He approached the counter where she had stood. They were almost like friends then, visiting each other once every year. And she waited for him, craved his return. There was something about the silence of their friendshipโif sheโd be so bold to assumeโthat asked for nothing but a recognition every time they met.ย
โ๐ฎ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐?โ
โ๐ป๐๐ ๐ฑ๐๐๐๐๐๐โ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐.โ
โ๐พ๐๐๐๐
๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐
๐ ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐?โย she asked. She had an uncanny foresight that heโd give them to someone special.ย
Heโd hesitated a bit but then wrote a short note. He passed it to her gingerly, in a way that she knew he was handing it to her and yet not. Sheโd occupied herself with wrapping the small ribbon around the bouquet handle. She had smiled when finally, he inscribed something more in the note. Heโd blushed when he handed it to her to be carefully placed in the geraniums.ย
It was a message so private she had not dared read, but the nameโhis name, nothing enticed her very much so.
๐ฑ๐๐
๐ ๐บ๐. ๐ญ๐๐๐๐๐๐. He wrote.ย
And his hesitations clearly added lastโ๐บ๐๐๐๐.
๐ฑ๐๐
๐ ๐บ๐. ๐ญ๐๐๐๐๐๐-๐บ๐๐๐๐.
Over the yearsโevery springโsheโd receive a note with a singular sunflower signed by him. And every time, even after so long, the hesitant scrawl of the last name never faded. And it filled her with fondness and gripping curiosity. But it was so much later that she found out why, through a letter (again with a single sunflower) by Harold Stein, and by then, it was too late.
โ And so I continue AnjaxSmeraldoFlowersCustomers (I invented the title I know lame ) and decided to add book characters, but really I just can't move on from this character and by writing this I hope I'll find my reprieve for a while ( I have more books to read, Jude pls) and so Jude St. Francis-Stein from A Little Life is my first victim. Writing this felt both like an AU and fanfiction, maybe a little of both. I'm planning one for the trio & Harold, too, hopefully. Also, this is spoiler free (I hope)! Please read A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara. It is so beautiful and devastating but beautiful. Too beautiful. Too devastating. Yes, at the same time.
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๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐
๐
๐๐๐: ๐๐ซ๐ข๐๐ข๐ ๐๐จ๐ฌ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ญ๐ข๐๐ง
LQ Cover photo inspired by the faceโs cute fashion in the loveliest shades.ย
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๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐: ๐๐ฒ๐ฉ๐ฌ๐ข๐๐ฌ ๐๐ง๐ ๐๐๐ง๐๐๐ซ๐๐ซ๐ฌ
๐๐๐ซ๐๐ข๐ ๐ฑ ๐๐ฆ๐๐ซ๐๐ฅ๐๐จ ๐
๐ฅ๐จ๐ฐ๐๐ซ๐ฌ ๐ฑ ๐๐จ๐ซ๐๐ง๐ ๐๐๐๐ง
๐๐๐ซ๐๐๐ง & ๐๐๐๐๐ซ๐จ๐ง ๐๐ข๐๐ญ ๐๐จ๐ฑ ๐๐๐ญ
Good evening, ๐ฎ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐
๐พ๐๐๐
๐๐๐๐๐.
I am Anja Jamilla Rothschild from Smeraldo Flowers.
We, at Smeraldo, believe in Sereiaโs commitment to promote loving oneโs body regardless of size, age, color and sexual orientation. It profoundly mirrors Smeraldo Flowersโ endless pursuit to break down gender stereotypes, especially among plants and flora.ย
It is the reason why we are honored to present our esteemed guests a collaboration of the sweetest blend especially created for this event. The limited-edition ๐๐๐ซ๐๐๐ง & ๐๐๐๐๐ซ๐จ๐ง gift box set by Smeraldo Flowers and Ms. Lorena Jean of Lotte Pastry House.ย
These carefully curated gifts are filled to the brim with beautiful things and packed with meaning:
๐ญ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ด๐๐๐๐๐๐๐, baked, curated to perfection and sprinkled with pixie dust by the pastry fairy;ย
๐น๐๐
๐น๐๐๐๐ โ the eternal flower of love and romance;ย
๐ท๐๐๐ ๐น๐๐๐๐ โ the hallmark of gratitude, grace, admiration, and joy;ย
๐บ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ โ the symbol of timeless love &ย
๐น๐๐๐ ๐ธ๐๐๐๐๐ โ the crystal of unconditional love
๐๐ฅ๐จ๐จ๐ฆ & ๐๐๐ค๐, a match made in heaven.ย
We dare you (not!) to name a better duo.ย
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๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐
๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ฒ ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐๐จ๐ญ๐ก๐ฌ๐๐ก๐ข๐ฅ๐๐ฌ
Logo, updated May 2021,ย in original pink shade
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๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐: ๐๐๐ฅ๐ฅ๐จ ๐๐ฐ๐๐๐ญ ๐๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐๐ซ
๐๐ซ๐ซ๐ข๐ฏ๐๐ฅ ๐๐ง๐ญ๐ซ๐ฒ
๐๐ฒ๐ฌ๐๐ง๐๐ซ๐ truly knew how to make their guest feel like god in this Elysian fields.ย
She was mildly astonished to hear knocks on her door and find pleasant staff waiting to escort her safely to the event proper. She was inclined to refuse the kind offer but thought better of it, she had something to ask them after all.
The soft whisper of the wind greeted their entourage once out of her cottage by the sea. The softened hues of the sky, pinks and blues, illuminated by the sparkling beach gave her likeness of a dream. Few more steps and the friendly chatters and laughter joined the gentle lapping of the sea against sand that sang lullaby to her soul.ย
She was so lost in her own found peace that she almost forgot the reason she consented to her companions shadowing her steps. She turned, gently tugging her cotton blue cardigan around her securely for the wind was slowly catching. โ๐ฐ๐ ๐ป๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐
๐๐๐๐?โ
โ๐บ๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐ ๐ ๐๐๐๐
๐๐
๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐, ๐ณ๐๐
๐ ๐จ๐๐๐.โ
That was too fast a reply and she suspected Kenneth had warned them of her probing. She thanked them anyways and proceeded into the event, stealthily avoiding the press to reach Abby Steinโs side immediately, she had warned them incessantly to make haste.
๐ฆ๐ข๐จ๐ฅ๐๐๐ฆ:
Edit is done by combining these photos below:
Choi Yoonji for Milkcocoa
Edited photo by Kenneth Lysandra Barker for Lysandra Luxury Resort
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๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐
๐๐จ๐๐ฎ๐ซ๐ฎ ๐๐ข๐จ๐ค๐ฎ ๐๐ง๐ญ๐ข๐ช๐ฎ๐ ย ๐๐ก๐จ๐ฉ ๐ฑ ๐๐๐ซ๐๐๐ซ๐ข๐ฎ๐ฆ ๐๐ญ๐๐ฅ๐ข๐๐ซ
๐ฑ ๐๐ฆ๐๐ซ๐๐ฅ๐๐จ ๐
๐ฅ๐จ๐ฐ๐๐ซ๐ฌ ๐ฑ ๐๐๐ ๐
๐จ๐ง๐๐๐๐ฎ
๐
๐ฅ๐จ๐ฐ๐๐ซ๐ฌ ๐ข๐ง ๐ ๐๐จ๐ญ๐ญ๐ฅ๐ ๐๐๐ซ๐ข๐๐ฌ: ๐๐๐ซ๐ค ๐๐๐ซ๐ข๐๐ฌ
I hope everyone enjoyed the game, congratulations to the expected winner. Kidding, Iโm kidding. A pleasant evening to all.
I am Anja Jamilla Rothschild from Smeraldo Flowers. It is my honour and pleasure to be chosen to present our esteemed guest their gifts to remember this wonderful event by.
Flowers are ephemeral. Their most beautiful moment is when flowers are in full bloom right before they wither to die. And it is always a challenge to us florists, so this idea came to usโto preserve them in their most beautiful, ๐
๐ฅ๐จ๐ฐ๐๐ซ๐ฌ ๐ข๐ง ๐ ๐๐จ๐ญ๐ญ๐ฅ๐.
It is a disturbing yet shockingly beautiful and colorful art preservation of dead flowers stuffed and frozen inside a bottle. It is an existential project, which finds beauty in both life and deathโ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐
๐๐๐๐โof flowers.
This ๐๐๐ซ๐ค ๐๐๐ซ๐ข๐๐ฌโfocuses on the yin and aims to remind us that โwithout death, life would lose its meaningโ.
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๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐: ๐๐๐ฅ๐ฅ๐จ ๐๐ฐ๐๐๐ญ ๐๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐๐ซ
๐๐ฆ๐๐ซ๐๐ฅ๐๐จ ๐
๐ฅ๐จ๐ฐ๐๐ซ๐ฌ ๐ฑ ๐๐๐๐
๐
๐ฅ๐จ๐ฐ๐๐ซ๐ฌ ๐ข๐ง ๐ ๐๐จ๐ญ๐ญ๐ฅ๐ ๐๐๐ซ๐ข๐๐ฌ: ๐๐ฐ๐๐๐ญ ๐๐ข๐ ๐ก๐ญ ๐ฌ๐๐ซ๐ข๐๐ฌ
๐บ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐. I am Anja Jamilla from Smeraldo Flowers. To someone who lived with flowers all her life, summer had always meant spring time โ when the sun shines ever bright and warmth wraps our days and flowers bloom the boldest.ย
Tonight, here in paradise, also marks the spring time of ๐ฉ๐จ๐ฉ๐ ๐๐ ๐จ๐๐๐ ๐บ๐๐๐๐, her hard-working team, her exquisite models, and her generous coordinators and sponsors who worked days and night to make this magic happen. To bring you, our honored guests, the best you most rightfully deserved. Smeraldo is always inspired with BABY by Abby Steinโs effort to remain ๐๐๐ฌ๐ก๐ข๐จ๐ง๐๐๐ฅ๐, ๐ฌ๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ญ๐๐ข๐ง๐๐๐ฅ๐ ๐๐ง๐ ๐ข๐ง๐๐ฅ๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ข๐ฏ๐ ๐จ๐ ๐๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐ญ๐ฒ๐ฉ๐๐ฌ ๐๐ง๐ ๐ ๐๐ง๐๐๐ซ.
And to express our deepest gratitude for your support in this endeavor, we offer you the ๐บ๐พ๐ฌ๐ฌ๐ป ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ โ ๐ด ๐น๐๐๐ค๐๐ ๐๐ ๐ ๐ต๐๐ก๐ก๐๐. This is opposite of the dark series we released early this year. These are bottles packed with petals in their full bloom in summer, set in pure white light and preserved in the peak of their sweetness and beauty and ghast reality of their death. This existential project, which finds beauty in both life and death captures the ephemerality of life and nature and invokes the importance of living the moment.ย
May these fill your senses of the ๐บ๐พ๐ฌ๐ฌ๐ป ๐บ๐ผ๐ด๐ด๐ฌ๐น we shared tonight in paradise.
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2021 International Womenโs Month/Day: Choose to Challenge
Aerielle Laurent
Amelia Chung
Avani Thorne
Loren Lee
Naia Dolohov
Amara Herbelle
Becca Everly
Bellamy Lee
Carina Schade
Madison Jung
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2021 International Womenโs Month/Day: Choose to Challenge
Anja Jamilla Rothschild
Alfa Wilhelmina Rothschild
Asha Rothschild
Kenneth Lysandra Barker
Jill Hildegarde
Mina Arleon
Maya Penhurst
Ruby Han
Serene La Bella
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