Wednesday, 20 March 2013

I say, it's the fire in my eyes, and the flash of my teeth, the swing in my waist, and the joy in my feet.

Thesadbox pondered on how a persons scarf might say something about them. The smell, the fabric, the colours and the pattern. I suppose that if you wear something daily it might take on a part of your personality, and in northern Europe we currently do not leave the house without at least ONE scarf. It's still snowing and spring does seem very far away.

I don't know if my scarf says anything about me. It's soft and worn, a bit torn by the edges but you won't notice unless you look at it up close. It's colourful and smells like a mixture of my skin, my hallway and Chanel perfume. It's probably been washed once of twice since I got it and it's been with me through winter, spring, summer and autumn.
In a way I guess I use it as a safety blanket, or a shield against the world. It's big enough to use as an actual blanket if called for and I have fallen asleep underneath it.

After 4 years of university and reading meaning after meaning into other peoples words I think I could write an essay about my scarf as a reflection of me. But I won't. Because today I will mainly learn about EU-projects on a regional level and that leaves very little space for other thoughts. So I will leave you at that and attempt not to get sucked into further procrastination.

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