16 Tuesday Oct 2018
Posted in Creating, Life in style, Theater
Tags
Working on a theatrical project, I have designed the poster for the play ( which basically tells the story of men shot as example during WW1, and their rehabilitation thereafter).
Here is what I came up with.
Later I’ll post the inktober promt ( “angular”, talk about non-inspiring)
07 Sunday Oct 2018
Posted in Life in style
Hello friends, I ‘ve been badly sick all night long and all day today, too weak to get out of bed and unable put myself to draw.
Cramps, muscle aching deep into the limbs, headache that did not dissolve even with 4 times 2 advilcapgels, high fever, shivers, nauseous and painful belly and stomach, plus dizziness.
This too shall pass, I’ll be my buoyant self anytime soon…hopefully tomorrow.
Ironically, today’s Inktober prompt is Exhausted, and this is exactly how I feel. I might take a pic of my miserable sick self and post it!
I hope your Sunday has been brilliant and good.
x, F
02 Tuesday Oct 2018
Posted in Creating, Life in style
Happy Tuesday!
Enjoy a cuppa in a nice mass of fluffy clouds…
01 Monday Oct 2018
Posted in Creating, Life in style
I decided to participate in the October drawing challenge Inktober.
First time! Super excited. So, here we go! Drawing is another great way to tell stories.
The Prompt of today is : Poisonous. I decided to add a little of red Indian Ink for a touch of drama. Enjoy!
03 Thursday Mar 2016
Posted in Enchanting world, Life in style
Tags
A UK-based chocolatier had the fun (and brilliant) idea to craft and mold chocolate Easter bunnies in the shape of …a rabbit with Benedict Cumberbatch’s face.
The result is stunning, amusing and certainly bound to become a best seller as well as a marketing hottie. In any case, it will be interesting to observe the success of this story (the sales?) and the sprawl of what looks like a potential meme all around. Success key factors all here.
And it has also begun to inspire people around the blogosphere and the cyberspace (and I must admit I could not resist and I plead guilty of changing within minutes some of the lyrics of the Ronnettes hit “Be my baby” . And yes I had fun doing so).
The subject, the idea, the raw material are so pleasant, how could one not want to comment on that?
All the fans of the actor remember the real-sized chocolate statue representing B.Cumberbatch (made out of 500 Belgian choc bars) exhibited in a London mall, in April 2015. The sculpture had been commissioned as a promotion for UKTV .
The sculpture ended up being eaten (not completely though) by fans and “Chocobatch” sprouted many a question and puzzled gazes among passerbys before they got the audacity to snap bits of chocolate, a finger here, the tip of the nose, a crease of the jacket… resulting in the statue disappearing rapidly. An incredible idea that has found today its sequel in these chocolate bunnies (The Cumberbunny, which wears a bow tie costs £50 or $70)
According to the Chocolatician website (creator of these sinful treat) : it is “a delicious Belgian chocolate rabbit with a handsome face and a tasty bottom, weighing 400 grammes, it is hand-glazed with edible lustre dust.”
Another good reason to love the talented Benedict Cumberbatch. Or chocolate. But who needs a reason to indulge in such pleasures?
So long, Folks and friends in chocolate
Floreva
Order your Cumberbunny here http://www.chocolatician.com/shop/cumber-bunny
10 Sunday May 2015
Posted in Life in style
07 Thursday May 2015
Posted in Life in style
Tags
amazon, blues, crise de la quarantaine, London, Londres, midlife crisis, publication, Quarantaine Blues
This time, the post will be in French. (Translation in English later)
La crise de la quarantaine.
Ah, chers lecteurs et lectrices en plein marasme quarantenaire ou autre-naire (si vous lisez ce post, c’est que cela vous chatouille, ou alors vous êtes dans un autre genre de crise, mais crise quand même ou alors vous êtes mes fidèles followers pas encore fâchés de mon silence si loooooong, d’aileurs à ce propos, sorry, been over busy)
Une crise, donc.
Vers 40 ans, a priori.
Un peu avant, ou un peu après; comme cela vous tombe dessus.
Parce qu’on ne choisit pas. Ce serait trop facile. pas fun sinon, hein.
Un adage très sage (comme tous les adages, du reste) dit que si l’on n’a pas fait 14-18 on fera 39-45. L’image est assez vraie. Pas de crise d’ado, risque de crise en milieu de vie. Car la crise doit avoir lieu, pour que la chrysalide se transforme en papillon.
Bon, c’est dit.
Après, l’avantage de se payer une bonne crise 39-45, c’est que généralement, on a établit des trucs du genre “poids lourds” dans sa vie avant, une vie conjugale-maritale-familiale bien remplie, des enfants, une profession, une maison, un emprunt sur les bras, des voitures, des traites, des fights avec le conjoints toutes les trois semaines (faut être organisé dans la vie, comme ça pas de surprise), des demandes de rangement des chambres quotidiennes et non-abouties (à ce jour), un plan retraite, une résidence secondaire dans 20 ans, une visite à la belle-famille réglée comme du papier à musique, ces vacances avec les copains par-ci ou par-là, mais deux fois par an, des programmes nutritionnels diétético-loisirs questionnables mais ludiques (pizza-night en regardant Despicable Me 2, ou Frozen pour la 36e fois….).
Et on a des preuves que le temps passe vite : des envies de revivre ses 20 ans (si l’expérience fut bonne), des pots de crèmes à tartiner sur la figure trèèèèèès chers, pour effacer les rides (meuuuh si ça marche, à 150 dollars le pot, on VEUT y croire), on ne boit plus la piquette du copain vigneron corse mais des grands crus (estomac fragile, tu sais bien), on trouve la bière limite has been, on porte des perlouses aux raouts de la boîte de son mari, on ne peut plus faire une nuit blanche sans avoir d’un fantôme décalqué par les évènements ou par deux coupes de champ’, on a du mal avec Lana del Rey ou One Republic (euh pas mi, je suis fan des deux), on rêve encore en cathodique parfois et on se rappelle même que les biscuits Lu, à un moment on les appelait Biscuits Lefèbvre-Utile.
Voilà tous le genre de matos qu’on s’apprête à remuer de fond en comble pour trouver une réponse à ses angoisses existentielles (si si, c’est angoissant et ça touche à la raison d’être) et dans certains cas extrêmes, à fourguer à la benne de la crise de milieu de vie.
Et ça fait peur, hein?
Yup, ça fiche plus les jetons que 14-18.
Parce qu ‘on a des res-pon-sa-bi-li-tés. Bien plus qu’avant. Voooui.
Il n’y a pas un profile particulier qui serait plus catalyseur de la chose. Expat ou au pays (expat dans mon cas), homme ou femme (devinez), en couple ou solo, heureux ou non, exerçant le job de ses rêves ou pas (ben comment dire…), personne ne sait si une crise identitaire ou personnelle se fera jour dans sa vie.
Ni à quel âge, ni pourquoi (quoique, on a des idées la-dessus), ni combien de temps…
Longtemps le mythe a persisté que cette crise que l’on pense passagère (genre deux semaines et hop, partie) et inoffensive (ça ira mieux demain,darling), ne touche que la gent masculine.
Mauvaise nouvelle : le gène de la crise de la quarantaine n’existe pas et s’il existait, il serait unisexe. Ce virus angoissant frappe au hasard, sans se soucier de votre background, ni de votre sexe, ni des histoires des individus qu’il touche, ni des circonstances ou des ocnditions (économiques, familiales, maritales, professionnelles).
Les femmes sont de plus en plus sujettes à ce phénomène ou au moins osent davantage le dire, et explorer ce qui se passe dans leur vie quand cela arrive.
Ce n’est pas facile de s’avouer qu’on traverse (ou qu’on stagne dans) une crise de milieu de vie.
D’abord,ce n’est pas drôle du tout ; ensuite, c’est déstabilisant ; enfin, on n’a pas tellement de mots pour exprimer cela. Très souvent, on s’étonne de devoir faire rentrer ce mal-être dans ces mots qu’on pensait réservé aux hommes et aux clichés que cela comporte (il a plaqué sa femme pour une jeunette de 20 ans, c est le “démon de midi”, ça ne peut arriver qu’ aux hommes ça, blablabla. Mi, j’ai une cops qui a plaqué son mari pour une jeunette de 20 ans, tuvois, ça n’arrive pas qu’aux hommes). Et cela peut être tellement différent; il n’y a pas qu’une forme de symptômes pour ce mal-être. C ‘est plus complexe , tellement de choses sont connectées à ce malaise qu’oan a du mal à cerner…
Ce n’est pas toujours explicable. Doit-on faire comme si cela n’existait pas, comme si on ne subissait pas cet vertige déroutant?
Eh bien non, amie lectrice, camarade de crise, qui te poses des questions existentielles pareillement que d’autres.
Il faut se les poser les questions, sinon, cela revient; Le problème revient toujours nous exploser à la figure jusqu’à ce qu’on ai trouvé une solution satisaisante. Pas pour les autres pour les rassurer, non satisfasante en profondeur pou rsoi-même.
Le temps est court, comme la vie, et on tout à gagner à se remettre en selle et trouver sa voie.
Parce que c’est tellement irrationnel, cette peur de gâcher sa vie ou de l’avoir déjà un peu gâchée, savoir si on répond a son “true calling ” (sa vocation), il est important de se pose les bonnes questions et affronter la réalité, surtout si elle n’est pas rose. Comme dit mon amie Tracy : “if Mama ain’t happy, nobody ain’t happy”. (si la Maman n’est pas heureuse, personne n’est heureux).
Les errances personnnelles de l’âme sont si profondes et intenses parfois, que cela peut prendre des années et un livre pour les comprendre et peut-être en les surmonter, à défaut d’en venir à bout…
Bon cheminement intérieur, si vous en êtes là…
Floreva (pour écluser le problème, mi, j’en ai fait un bouquin, placé l’action à Londres, cela m’a prit 4 ans et demi à m’arracher les cheveux, des crises de paniques, des larmes, des angoisses, perdu 25 lb (13 kilos) dans le process, des nuits blanches et enfin, l’apaisement par l’écriture. Alors, oui ça existe, oui c’et flippant, mais oui aussi, on s’en sort. J’ai mis des mots sur mes maux) Et plein d’amies et d’amis m’ont dit : “ah, ce que vivent tes persos Alastair et Vivienne, je le vis aussi, c’est dingue!”
Ce n’est pas dingue, c’est humain, c’est plus courant qu’on le pense et pas si grave, quand on sait c’est qui arrive… Mais si on ne prend pas le temps de se comprendre, ça peut devenir très sérieux et tragique, parfois..
C’est ici : http://goo.gl/x2zaeL
en version kindle ou paperback sur Amazon.com
25 Friday Apr 2014
Posted in Life in style
Tags
HI readers
here are some new FF you can participate to; check the websites for additional info
enjoy and happy submitting!
UNITED
FILM FESTIVAL
Los Angeles, New York, Chicago, San Francisco, Tulsa – USA
London – England
Year-Round Festival
PCOMING DEADLINE
Rolling Deadline, No Entry
MISSION AND OBJECTIVE
The United Film Festival aims to unite time-honored wisdom and innovative perspective in order to create, curate, and connect modern independent films with a global audience.
MORE ABOUT THE FESTIVAL
The United Film Festival began in Tulsa in 2002 and then spread to Los Angeles and New York in 2007 and next to San Francisco, Chicago and London in 2009. It was founded by producer, Jason Connell, whose credits include Strictly Background, The Rock-afire Explosion, Holy Rollers, and GLOW: The Story of the Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling. The festival has a rich tradition of screening independent films and has gained a respectable reputation in just a few short years. Film Threat described UFF as “a festival you can’t miss,” and it was voted as one of the “25 Coolest Film Festivals” by MovieMaker Magazine. Don’t miss out…submit your film today!
HAMPTONS INTERNATIONAL
FILM FESTIVAL
East Hampton, New York – USA
October 9 to 13, 2014
With an incredible legacy and a host of press opportunities at the ready, HIFF is where big talents flock to be discovered, year after year. Most filmmakers in competition receive complimentary travel and accommodations in East Hampton, one of America’s most tony getaways. In just the last few years alone, HIFF has welcomed industry legends Meryl Streep, Joel and Ethan Coen, Mike Nichols, Harvey Weinstein, Jessica Chastain, James Franco, Richard Gere, Susan Sarandon, Spike Jonze, and more. For A-list talent and up-and-comers alike, HIFF offers an unbeatable backdrop for collaboration and conversation.
Resolutely committed to encouraging new filmmakers who possess extraordinary vision, HIFF provides financial grants to outstanding student filmmakers at the collegiate and graduate school levels. Previous winners in this esteemed category include James Ponsoldt (The Spectacular Now), and Academy Award-winning screenwriter Geoffrey Fletcher (Precious: Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire).
UPCOMING DEADLINE
May 5, 2014 – Regular Deadline
MISSION AND OBJECTIVE
HIFF celebrates independent film and introduces a unique and varied spectrum of international films and filmmakers to its audiences.
MORE ABOUT THE FESTIVAL
HIFF is not just a thrilling festival experience; it’s a proven prognosticator for Oscar gold. Recent HIFF highlights have included Oscar-nominated shorts Get a Horse!, Asad, and Head Over Heels, and long-form Academy favorites including 12 Years a Slave, The Artist, Her, Silver Linings Playbook, Argo, The King’s Speech, The Descendants, and more.
Whether you’ve created a top-tier short film or a fantastic feature-length narrative or documentary film, submit it to HIFF today, and join in on one of the best celebrations of cinema on the festival circuit!
Floreva
09 Thursday Jan 2014
Posted in Life in style
Tags
Being a writer, apart from being a lonely job, seldom immediately rewarding or even bringing daily satisfaction is also about being able to reach out to get your work noticed, remarked, chosen, published, and ultimately, read. Because, we , oddjobbers, do not write just for ourselves, to answer our true nature or to find answers, or maybe because we want to temporarily dwell into a better place than the one we actually have to deal with,(or have had to deal with in the past), or to entertain others and ourselves, we must also tackle the task of putting that handkie on the shyness or unwillingness to get out of the study, and deal with the world outside and the readership that awaits us. It’s about becoming bolder, more self-confident and proudly starting to talk about what we do, what we write and sometimes, (when asked) explain why we write and how our stories enter others’ mind, soul or thoughts, and how they mingle with their own life. Because it’s all about feeling that what happens or has happened was once experienced by others, thus allowing closure, joy, sadness, anger, a sense of empowerment in a way, to come to the surface of our souls underneath the polishing of society (and how to behave in any circumstance). Then you find yourself talking to a friend or a stranger and sharing personal facts, and beyond the emotion that suddenly resurfaces, a bond emerges, and at that point, you know that your lonely hours of writing, fighting with yourself not to censor yourself too harshly, or precisely because it’s painful to revisit some memories, are not vain. You put words on situations and emotions and you allow others to speak up their soul because you gave them the words they were searching for. They can own those emotions because they can express them, because you gave them words, be it poetry, fiction, a song, an ode, a line in a play, a dialogue between characters in a script…
It’s a lonely task, to write, but you’re not alone.
And the next stop now is : marketing your talent, getting that readership that craves for your words. It’s time to have those bookmarks printed and the flyers and postcards too, to include in any correspondence (even bills, why not?) .
Time also to try that fancy cafe and propose and schedule a signing… They will be more than willing to host your signing event, trust me. I’m organising mine already 😉
(picture copyright 2014 FVFOX, communication postcard)
Good day to you, fellow oddjobbers, keep up the good work!
Floreva
31 Tuesday Dec 2013
30 Monday Dec 2013
Posted in Life in style
(Source Pinterest)
…the way it is.
Picture this : it’s cold outside, baby, and you’ve got the perfect country cottage-like house to overwinter the short daylight months, you’ve got a roaring fire to roast plump chestnuts and crabapples on a twig (from the garden), family harmony and incommensurable happiness sneak surreptitiously in the last night of November to fill the air with scent of gorgeous richly moist sponge cakes, cookies and delicacies, gentle music dwells in every corner of this castle of yours and you’re about to set out to fetch the tree and some gifts. You’ll maybe bring home the ingredients (rare and exotic) to build the perfect meal, to feed your loved ones with both delicate food and love. Your home resembles a Hobbit’s sanctum, where concord gently gives precedence to the joy of the forthcoming family gatherings.You can even have spent hours crafting DIY presents, putting all your heart, your talent, your creativity in that activity. You might have sewn, glued, knitted, glittered, painted, drawn, quilted,decoupaged,photoshopped, printed, framed, designed, baked, cooked, cut, for your loved ones, in the hope that they would acknowledge your efforts and be frantically happy. You may have even thought of those glorious moments months before it was Yuletide. You may have created the picture perfect home decor, worth a double page in a posh home decor magazine. The house is filled with beauty and music and your soul is ready for an immortal bliss…
That’s the fantasy.
Reality is different. You think you can readjust to the fantasy, but eventually, everything is ruined, piece by piece, bit by bit, in slow motion. The fantastic idea of Christmas gets wrecked by those tiny bitsy little nothings : the mandatory enthusiasm, the exaggerated expectations and the secret hope that Auntie Margo ( or Daddy’s new wife) will FOR ONCE be able to behave, rushing to shut up and not speak inconsequentially and thus cause embarrassment.
Firstly, you’re supposed to be happy ALL THE TIME (rejoice, it’s Christmas!). Secondly, you can’t escape “Rudolf” and his army of performers (Rejoice, it’s Christmas!) nor can you skip the modern take on oldies goldies ( I do not know for you, but a teenage boysband style or ragga variation of “I’ll be home for Christmas” throws me into a retch state of stomach), blasting in every store, no matter the time. Thirdly, you nearly get a seizure each time you want to buy anything inconsequential such as socks or flour, because everyone else rushes into last-minute frenzy shopping (and sometimes, that’s what you do too, when you inadvertently discover that the gifts you intend to present your beloved ones might not meet their level of expectations).
Why does the Western world consciousness rush into a mandatory joy that has nothing to do with inner well being? I wondered, while I went to exchange a gift, do we have to do this in order to please one another? It would be so much easier to just share simplicity and a reflection about this time that flies so easily and brings us so rapidly to the end of (what I hope for everyone to have been) a good year. Wouldn’t it be better to share our experiences and what we’ve learned and how we’ve grown on our personal path, seekers of harmony within so that it resonates outside? How come we still need to glue our eyes on a calendar to begin to recognize that we need to be more generous with our beloved ones and strangers? Why do we need reminders to acknowledge that we must send our cards to express our love, our care, our thoughts to those around or far away?
I prefer to express my gratitude to life every day, I try to share a bit of my grocery with the lady emaciated whose pride she has pocketed long ago when she had to extend her arm to ask for a little something that can improve her life in the street, or I give to the disheveled man standing at the lamp the change I always keep in my car instead of my pocket, or I pay for an extra coffee at the coffee shop for a less fortunate and I ask the cashier to give it to someone who could find a little solace/ peace in this hot beverage. I do that often, I do not have Xmas songs to remind me that I am not alone, and that I love my family members all year long, not just during Christmas time.
Maybe it was the rebellious inside me talking, maybe I am really fed up with Xmas lights all around and this profligacy of food and Rudolf songs….
Christmas spirit, thou shallt not vanish the 26th….
F.
17 Tuesday Dec 2013
Posted in Life in style
Tags
Hi Folks!
Can I jump for sheer joy?
Yes.
Why?
Because several days ago, my book has received its official ID : the ISBN. The first copy has arrived.
“The Balding Club and other short stories” is born.
(picture : Copyright FVF 2013)
And the control copy has passed the exam.
So now, it’s being printed…
(source : pinterest)
Ah, yeah!
I suppose I have to put a bottle of Champagne in the fridge…
More later.
F.
19 Tuesday Nov 2013
Posted in Life in style
My friend Insomnia wants to see me.
Again.
And she won’t let me alone until I’ve woken up, taken water and wondered enough about the meaning of life.Or written about it.
Again.
It’s always at 3 in the morning.
See that light on the window there? That’s me.
(Source Pinterest)
I’ve learned over the years that each type of insomnia has its hour. 3 in the morning, it’s the anxiety hour insomnia. Well, I do not see why she still wants to see me, because I already have come to terms with the fear of Death, and it had taken me a long time, but I have shifted from a career in marketing and/or the rollercoaster of employment happiness to a writing job (not yet really financially satisfying, but I am working on it). The articles I write about TV series and cinema in a newsletter for the French community are appreciated, and my book of collected short stories is about to be out (in editing). Everything else is fine. So I do not see the reason for the 3 am insomnia.
The only explanation would be that since I have become acquainted with this strange phenomena, when I was 14 (I’ve reached the blessed years of mid-life crisis), it has stuck around my sleep without respite. I’ve begun a book about a woman, expatriate, who falls into a coma, in the heart of the night, probably to exorcise my fears. I’ve written poems while the moon glowed gloomily or when she was as thin as a thread through my window, I’ve skyped with my sister or friends ,surprised to hear of me so early in their European daytime hours.
I never intended in the first place to talk much about me, my life, my age, being a mother caring for her children, or her significant other. I intended to write about coffee and its contribution in the writing world, and about TV series and films noirs. Maybe it’s not enough. Maybe others write better about those subjects or maybe I should post more of what I write. I am shy, you see.
I feel fragile sometimes, because I have not yet found why my sleep is so brittle. I have found relief in meditation and exercise, when I sleep two night without disturbance, I feel happy and refreshed, and no circles under my eyes. It started, I suppose, with the difficult relationship I encountered with my mother, which has not particularly been easy. Unlike her, I do not relish conflict, and I leave the battle field ASAP when she drags me there. I’ve started meditating and apply some changes in my life within myself because I do not want for my children to experiment a “yelling and yield management” of our relationships.
I chose kindness and understanding, I’ve chosen to speak words of care and love instead of harsh words. She’s wounded, she wounded me, she hurt me. But I have chosen to heal. And I did.
Maybe I should post more about myself, or more of my writings.
Please, give me a clue, I feel too fragile to think.
I should redefine the tagline above, because I do not want to write about coffee or films noirs. Or I lust find a more catchy name “cafecultureaddict”, really. Isn’t it a bit weird? Besides, I’m no coffee expert. I like the scent, which I find intoxicating, I take one coffee a day, but I prefer tea, I get great amount of caffeine from dear Earl Grey.
Last year, I considered volunteering at the hospital near my home, the idea came back this year. I’ve already visited people in hospital, old persons, whose family did not come to see anymore. It was heartbreaking. I was 21 at the time. I am stronger now. And still a bit fragile, sometimes.
It’s our human paradox, I guess.
Good day , did you like my poem “Textual”, BTW?
Peace and care,
F
18 Monday Nov 2013
Posted in Life in style
In the digital age, Love is not only in the air, it is mostly in the bytes.
See what it inspired me.
TEXTUAL
We’ve known each other for a long time
So I assume, we’re partners in this crime
Today there’s something new and it differs
From all our previous textual encounters
As I walk again in this crowd
You move again, you’re by my side
Your hand again rests on my back
Your smile again opens in a crack
For a long time we’ve played the game
It’s no more fun, it’s just insane
Feed me desire and feed me laugh
Give me your kiss and make it rough
Across the street, there’s a dim light
Right in the heat of the night
Then it’s all Champagne once more
You turn naughty boy bangin’ at my door
Your daring words just tie me up
In your lush fantasy and so I start
Longing for your touch and mouth to feed
My naked skin with what I need
For a long time we’ve played the game
It’s no more fun, it’s just insane
Feed me desire and feed me laugh
Give me your kiss and make it rough
I cried your messages to the wind
In our textual encounters we have sinned
Already, already and forever
Under my thumb, honey, however
I’ll give you textual evidence
You won’t want abstinence
For a long time we’ve played the game
It’s no more fun, it’s just insane
Feed me desire and feed me laugh
Give me your kiss and make it rough
Let’s crack it up, and poke the claim
Let’s kinky up, and spice the flame
Let’s wrap it up and end the game
Good day to you.
Floreva
12 Thursday Sep 2013
Posted in Life in style, Writing
Dear all,
The summer has been fantastic in many aspects.
It has also put a huge strain on me, emotionnally speaking, (family in a large scale and parents, you know?), leading to more and a new form of self-empowerment, expanding self-knowledge and compassion (self-healing, see?).
A wedding (lil’ bro), visas renewal process gone stressful, family (upper story) with an hidden agenda. I won’t develop. Let’s say it’ sbeen a loong hot summer with long stressful days transforming into long insomnias and very little restful sleep.
And now, it’s over, let’s focus on positive energy!!
It was a time to seek and find closure and in some way, I did.
I was also a time to ENJOY life as it came, while I stayed 12 days in London, doing some research for my solitary and poorly redeeimng work (being a writer! now, really, how wants to be a writer?), and guiltlessly slipping into delicious “me-time” (an expression I had never heard and therefore never practised before moving in the USA).
The weather was fantastic, I had a great time, chatted with various people, made some friends, wrote a lot, soaked in the beauty and the incredible energetic city, step into an advertsing event in Victoria station with Rowntree new fruity Chews (Chewsday, that’s brilliant!), stumbled upon various film set, went to the theater, drank incredible cocktails and champagne, enjoyed Hampstead, savoured the most palatable Benedict Eggs, among other delicious things…
A bartender even invented a cocktail bearing my name : Florence. Yep. I’m so proud of it! 
I treated myself with lovely coaktails and afternoon teas in amazing venues. And I loved it.
As the quote says : I wish to “go to London and stay there forever” (I’m working on it).
Then, some time on a lake in South Carolina (near a city called Florence!) here in the States, to cure the jetlag (no internetaccess, it felt awkward and liberating, it’s like frustrating and freeing in the same time, weird). So when I came back and checked my mail, I was over the moon to see that I have received the 1st Prize of the david Burland International Poetry Contest, category French!
The David Burland team is based in the UK, my poem has been published on their website, and £200 is attached to this award. To say that I am happy is largely below how I felt then and still am feeling.
It’s a encouraging, it’s empowering, it’s what I wanted to achieve, it’s the goal I had set personnally to reach. It’s a major step!
From now on, I am a published author, I am and award-winner aauthor, and my peers have recognised my talent (ok, I’be said it, I take full responsability) and thought it was worth chosing my writing to bear this award.
Please visit : http://www.davidburlandpoetryprize.com/winners.html
The poem is in French, I’ll post a translation in English soon.
It’s called “Rose de Matink” (Rose of Martinique Island)
It’s about how the slaves deported from Africa to the French Carribean islands to work (drudge) in the cane sugar fields. The name of the ship would become their new names. This poem was inspired by a friend’s ancestor’s story. It was moving to write it and (apparently) moving to read it, anyway it’s a very inspirationnal story. I am supremely grateful to have been awarded teh 1st Prize for this poem. We celebrated of course, with this dear friend of mine and other friends too. I received many congrats from friends and they liked thh poem as well, some were so moved they wrote me a beautiful message to tell me how much they liked it. I only put my heart in this poem and my emotion (my guts?) as my friend had told me this powerful story.
Now you know why I love the Brits. They’re the first to give me an award, and I intend to win many more! This boosts me so greatly!
And 2nd good news : my publisher is only eager to have my book being out in Fall (and so am I!!!)
Keep you posted, folks!
For all my fellow oddjobbers : produce, produce, write , bleed and get your guts into your work, let it out in the world, participate into contests, and get those awards too!
Wishing you best of luck and looking forward to hearing your success stories!
Florence (aka Floreva)
