Wide brimmed hats

Did i ever mention a certain fascination for wide-brimmed hats?(heh i know, i'm fascinated by everything)

Or rather, cream coloured wide-brimmed hats with a long satin ribbon hanging lazily over its rim..

:) just..wide brimmed hats i guess.

Shrouding the face in an air of delicate and classic graceful mystery..it reeks of Old Paris cafes, painting filled gallerias and cobbled streets..willowed trees swaying in the warm summer breeze as the morning sun twinkles michievously upon the flowing stream..

Hee always wanted to join renowned artists in their oil painting frenzies..to at least have a painting of a lady (or a few ladies) wearing wide brimmed hats featured in classic gardens of England..or by the stream..just anywhere :) Haha and it be best if they wear long flowy dresses too..or summer dresses...

*gRINz* So yes..i guess that explained why my attention (whilst poring over patent ductus arteriosus and tetralogy of fallot -s) was drawn away by a slim figure who stepped into Coffee Bean today..yupsh, wearing a wide brimmed hat(a rather rare sight in tropical casual Singapore. And then my hand seemingly found a mechanical pencil..an A4 sized paper..and started to sketch the lady who just may be the object of satisfying an old but long buried want. If it seemed insufficient..heh here's a description(to call it a poem would do disservice to the multitudes of poets) by a rusty me that went alongside her portrait..bleah.It sounds childish on second thought, haha but i guess i may throw it away ultimately, so here it is for the record..

"She adorns a beige wide-brimmed hat,
Hair tied back in a loose ponytail,
Tanned skin cast in a warm and soft orange glow.
Her left elbow gently leans
Upon a wooden table bathed in hues of brown.
Still she sits, by the wall,
A picture of wavering resolution encircling her presence,
Myriad upon myriad of coffee odours
Lingering and luring her back into
Her task at hand.
She gazes hesitantly at the parchment on the table
Slender fingers twirling her pen.
What shall she write?
Of what should she profess?
Then she shifts to the edge of her seat,
And resumes her posture of admirable extent.
Words upon words flying off the page in a frenzy,
Hand struggling to keep up
With the fervour of the writer's mind.
Her hat is tilted in an angle
To reveal nothing but her chin that moves
In accordance with the silent mouthing
Of the duet between heart and mind
Then she pauses, looks up in quiet repose,
Eases her sandal to lean upon the base of the table
Before taking a slow sip of her carefully ordered latte.
A sweeping glance she gives
Is all she reveals about her acceptance
Of the world that continues revolving around her..
Then she coaxes herself back into oblivion,
Continuing to write..
That message
Meant for the eyes of only one other."

Oh wells! :) haha that was as much as i could muster in 15 minutes..

West mall coffee bean is interesting though :) Haha! But! Another account for another day! *bEAMs* I shall paint such a lady(s) one day!

Hee and yup, i guess reality is different from portrayal..She was indeed older than i had thought, oriental features that would have actually fit the role of Miss Saigon perfectly if talent scouted 20 years back..wore black track pants plus a matching coloured sleeveles shirt..and sporting sandals to fitl..Heh! :) But a pretty sight to jolt the imagination anyways..on a lazy afternoon.

Haha tis really fun to do peeps watching..(Evan!! Bring me along one day!)although i really sound like i'm supa free when i shouldn't be..

And that about sums how easily distracted i am. Bleah!

Oh diffuse into my consciousness, my notes and knowledge awaiting me..