Hang on little tomato

This afternoon, I took a walk along the sea with my headphone on.

It was a beautiful afternoon, with both sunshine and drizzle, it formed a beautiful half rainbow over the sea, the wind blows, fresh and relaxing.


All of the sudden, a nostalgia feeling overwhelmed me, tearing start falling down that I can not control.

… If you start to cry, look up to the sky
Something’s coming up ahead
To turn your tears to dew instead …

I know why I got so emotional over this song. When I lived in Paris, there’s a person I know that he loves Pink Martini, every time I hear this melody, it reminds me so much of him and the state I was in when I first came to Paris. Everything seemed exciting and interesting. I was a new soul in a big city, curious about everything.

“Hang On Little Tomato”

The sun has left and forgotten me
It’s dark. I cannot see
Why does this rain pour down?
I’m gonna drown
In a sea
Of deep confusion

Somebody told me, I don’t know who,
“Whenever you are sad and blue,
And you’re feelin’ all alone, and left behind,
Just take a look inside you and you’ll find.

You gotta hold on, hold on through the night
Hang on, things will be all right
Even when it’s dark
And not a bit of sparkling
Sing-song sunshine from above
Spreading rays of sunny love

Just hang on, hang on to the vine
Stay on, soon you’ll be divine
If you start to cry, look up to the sky
Something’s coming up ahead
To turn your tears to dew instead.

And so I hold on to this advice
When change is hard and not so nice
If you listen to your heart the whole night through
Your sunny someday will come one day soon to you

And look at me now, a totally different me.

Life has ups and downs, like everyone, I have my own problems. Sometimes, I feel I can not breath. Other times, I feel that I’m growing so strong that nothing can beat me. We are both strong and weak, it’s all a state of mind.


Buddhism clams the emptiness, that we belong to nothing, own nothing thus demand nothing. Things come and go, the importance is how we cope with ourselves, can we see inside, can we stay mindfulness.

I let my emotion eaten me up that afternoon.

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Let’s make baby

One of my favorite Icelandic song writers and singers – Moses Hightower, published a song called “Búum til börn” (Let’s make baby) in 2010.

Það er enginn vafi, eitthvað vantar.
Ég held þú vitir hvað það er
því þú veist að við eigum ekki heima
úti í horni ein og sér.

Lofðu mér að liðka fyrir,
látum okkur líða vel.

Ég er ekki bara að hugsa um yðar einlægan,
það er ekki það sem vakir fyrir mér.

Búum til börn!

Sumir segja að eitt sé alltof mikið
en sjálfur fæ ég aldrei nóg.
Ég lofa að blessun eykst með barni hverju.
Berum ávöxt, verum frjó.

There is no doubt that something is missing.
I think you know what it is,
because you know we don’t belong
in a corner by ourselves.
I am not thinking about your sincere one,
that is not my intention.
Let’s make babies.
Some say that one is too much
but I never get enough myself.
I promise that each child is a blessing.
Let’s bear fruit, let’s be fertile.
I am not thinking about your sincere one,
that is not my intention.
Let’s make babies.

The most romantic song ever !

Við gengum tvö, við gengum tvö í rökkurró. /We both walked, we both walked in the twilight.
Við leiddumst hljóð, við leiddumst hljóð um ungan skóg. / We were led by the sound, the sound of a young forest.
Þú varst yndi, þú varst yndi og ástin mín. / You were dear, you were dear, and my love
Og stundin áfeng, stundin áfeng eins og vín. / And the alcohol moments, alcohol moments like wine

Við hlýddum tvö, við hlýddum tvö í húmi ein. / We both heard, we both heard the dusk
Er blærinn kvað, er blærinn kvað við blöð á grein. / The tint is said, tint is said to be us on the article
Ég var nóttin, ég var nóttin þögla þín. / I was the night, I was your silent night.
Og þú varst eina, þú varst eina stjarnan mín. / And you were the one, you were my only star.

Á meðan norðurljósin leiftra um bláan himininn. / While the northern lights are blinking on the blue sky.
Þá sit ég einn og þrái kveðjukossinn þinn. / I sit then alone, waiting for your greeting kiss.

Við hlýddum tvö, við hlýddum tvö í húmi ein. / We both heard, we both heard the dusk
Er blærinn kvað, er blærinn kvað við blöð á grein. / The tint is said, tint is said to be us on the article
Ég var nóttin, ég var nóttin þögla þín. / I was the night, I was your silent night.
Og þú varst eina, þú varst eina stjarnan mín. / And you were the one, you were my only star.

Á meðan norðurljósin leiftra um bláan himininn. / While the northern lights are blinking on the blue sky.
Þá sit ég einn og þrái kveðjukossinn þinn. / I sit then alone, waiting for your greeting kiss.

Á meðan norðurljósin leiftra um bláan himininn. / While the northern lights are blinking on the blue sky.
Þá sit ég einn og þrái kveðjukossinn þinn. / I sit then alone, waiting for your greeting kiss.

Seamen’s song

One of my favourite icelandic folk songs. enjoy !

Það gefur á bátinn við Grænland
og gustar um sigluna kalt,
en togarasjómanni tamast það er
að tala sem minnst um það allt.
En fugli, sem flýgur í austur,
er fylgt yfir hafið með þrá.
Og vestfirskur jökull, sem heilsar við Horn
í hylling með sólroðna brá,
segir velkominn heim, segir velkominn heim,
þau verma hin þögulu orð.
Sértu velkominn heim, yfir hafið og heim.
Þá er hlegið við störfin um borð.
En geigþungt er brimið við Grænland
og gista það kýs ekki neinn.
Hvern varðar um draum þess og vonir og þrár,
sem vakir þar hljóður og einn?
En handan við kólguna kalda
býr kona, sem fagnar í nótt
og raular við bláeygan, sofandi son,
og systur hans, þaggandi hljótt:
Sértu velkominn heim, sértu velkominn heim.
Að vestan er siglt gegnum ís.
Sértu velkominn heim, yfir hafið og heim.
Og Hornbjarg úr djúpinu rís.

A playful little can

It was warm, no wind and the sun was shining. I believe the temperature was over ten.
Waked up at eight, went for a hot yoga at ten for one and half hour. Then walked downtown with my sister-in-law to the annual farm food market in the music concert hall – Harpa, from organic vegetables, raw chocolat, smoked meat/fish, honey, bread to ice cream.

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Approaching to the X’mas, the flower shop down in Harpa decorated with all kinds of Christmas decoration. I just love it, shining, gleaming and glamour. The sun was shining though the mirror, glasses, I felt like Alice in a wonderland.
Then I found something very interesting, playful, called “spiladós” in icelandic, and in Engilsh it’s “music box”. All girls have one when they were little. You wind the box and it will play the melody, the most classic one is a girl playing ballet. Yet these ones are quite special, they’re made of bamboo or shells, very delicate.

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Spíladós = music box = boîte à musique = 八音盒
Spila: to play; dós: can, tin