Having briefly wandered the streets of Paris last year, today I find myself transported back to the captivating sense of unity I encountered.

During my time in Paris and amidst my travels to Spain, the rarity of solitary dinners struck me profoundly. This communal spirit, woven into the fabric of everyday life, stirred my thoughts on the interconnectedness of urban existence.

In the snug confines of Parisian living spaces, where coziness prevailed over space, I discovered a profound intimacy that transcended mere walls. Even in solitary moments, there lingered a shared essence, a silent communion.

From these reflections emerged "Our Mutual Friend," a testament to the notion that even in our solitary reveries, we remain entwined in the tapestry of shared experience.

-YoYo 

3/12/2024

Once, a bouquet brightened my day—lovely, yet rigid in its perfection. But my heart yearned for the wild beauty beyond my door. So I wandered through my neighborhood, gathering weeds and wildflowers with reckless joy. My hands full, I placed them in an old jar I found at home. And there they bloomed, more alive, more beloved than any florist’s careful arrangement.

As I did, memories of my grandmother swept over me. Though she had little, she knew how to make life shimmer. She would collect weeds, repurpose forgotten trinkets, and create small wonders, turning the ordinary into moments of quiet luxury. This simple bouquet became my tribute to her—a nod to her creativity, to the magic in life’s smallest pleasures, long before I understood the meaning of scarcity.