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Declarations of love, or
moving mountains
changing the universe
with naught more than a simple word
Such feats are beyond me, I fear
for I am but a humble girl
and if my soul is that of a poet

     alas!

it is not nearly enough for justice
to the beauty I see



This here is a small, fuzzy thing with decidedly interesting quirks, occasionally weird sense of humour, and an explosive temper. I'm a self-proclaimed artisan and artist; I write, draw, photograph, and bind books. One can also catch me singing with a reasonably good voice.
Many things have my interest or my fancy, and I can't really come up with very many things to dislike right off the bat. I tend to try to look at the positive side of whatever life throws at me, and the irony of it all is clearer to me year by year. Doesn't mean it's always funny, though. Still, I think it's good to keep laughing. I'm cynical, yet at the same time, very naïve. It's a strange combination.
Perfectionism being united with laziness and the tendency to procrastinate is quite the interesting prospect, too. Doing things properly is very important for me, but somehow the deadlines always lurk around the corner, announcing their arrival in big bold letters much too soon. There's one thing that I'm nearly absolute in, though, and that's language. Yes, I'm a grammar and spelling Nazi. I get a laugh out of Engrish, of course, but there's just something profoundly irritating - well, alright, amusing as well - about the fact that I'm better at this language than who knows how large a percent of the native speakers. Don't even get me started on these silly abbreviations of numbers as words, etc.
Now, to avoid a rant, I'll end this part here. To see previous descriptions, visit bio burial site. You can also make lami a house.



Lilting Lavender

Learn,
lovelorn lady

letters lie

lonely, longing
lady Luck

Laugh lowly
lunatic lover

lightning-like lust
leaves legs lazy

Lean lightly
little lady

list lies loudly

© Lami.
Coal black wings for more.

She remembers the balmy summer nights of her childhood; the crickets chirping in the soft, long grass, a gentle breeze blowing over the field, swaying the young saplings and the leaves of the older trees towering on the edge, watching over her adventures, and a bird, perhaps a nightingale, singing somewhere in the distance. She remembers, and oh, how she longs for those days, those nights, when everything was still so pure and beautiful and oh, so wondrous in her innocent eyes. - Remembrance.
Blessings of the muse.

... maybe I am one of those multi-talented people. I'm not saying I'm a wunderkind, or a polymath - far from it. As things go, I'm pretty mediocre, but I can come to terms with that. I'm not exceedingly intelligent, but I can be smart. I'm absent-minded and often slow to learn, sure, but that doesn't mean I'm stupid. And then, there are some things I can do, like writing, or photography. I'm not perfect at either, but I don't need to be. Being good is enough, and that I am.
Artsy wikis of teh Lami



And because I've begun to actually like what I see in the mirror... Linssilude. I'm not ashamed of that face anymore - most of the time.

Cthulhu wants you to join your local RPG group, otaku club, or whatever conglomeration of geekiness is available. Do it.

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