Where belongs the heart


Do you sometimes wonder if you were born in the wrong era? Do feelings of nostalgia often awake you in the morning of something lost or somewhere forgotten? Ok, not in the literal sense, or like that of an episode of Doctor Who. But of a deep presence of longing the unattainable. Perhaps for you, it is a person, place, thought or all of the mentioned.

I feel it. It is a burden of missing a place I feel a part of. Of wanting more of the forgotten. Like a swan without its pond. Like a violin without its strings. I am but a feather floating in a city. Totally misplaced.

I am surrounded by a world culture that lives and breathes the modern aspirations of fad trends, intimidating messages of self-love and importance, a world more interested in assuring you that they are an entrepreneur rather than a morally decent person. I understand you can certainly be both. But the priority of it is amiss.

It is the age of the social. Where all is revealed in skin and flesh. An age where a woman’s modesty is seen as oppressive and ignorant to the age of feminism.

So yes. I am a misplaced soul who doesn’t quite belong in this world or time. I belong in a time where peoples fingers were stained with ink from mindful letters to loved ones. I long to walk through deep green woods and not in minimalistic cityscapes. I want the times where you would overhear men call their companions “darling” not “babe” like boys of today. Why don’t we send particular bouquets of flowers anymore that hold a meaning? When did the world ever become so lazy to those kinds of sentimental givings? Where belongs the heart? Where belongs your heart?

I think it is sad, so very sad that myself and people like me who adore history, art, winters with long rainy days, dusty books, solitude, Bible principles and who just enjoy “things” not appreciated by the masses now, but many years and centuries ago, are perceived as “uncool”, “totally weird”, “unusual” or “strange”. Or my favourite, “out of date”.

This is not a confession. I’m not trying to prove a point. I don’t judge the world around me. And I’m certainly not pleading to justify myself. I just, in all honesty, want to express myself here. I want to reach to you who like me, feel misplaced by how we live and thrive. Be the swan who finds its pond. Be the violin whose strings play your song.

I wonder what I look like in your eyes. – Unknown

Photo & Words by Camille Romeo

2 thoughts on “Where belongs the heart

  1. Hello Camille, – I found you via Instagram through a link Skybambi provided in one of her daily stories that I love to read and look at. I loved your photos, so came to visit here too…..
    I totally understand where you are coming from, though I am from a different generation and probably old enough to be your mother or even grandmother….

    I know the feeling of feeling more at home in another era, the way I explain it to myself is that I have lived before, probably many times, – perhaps there are things I left unfinished in a previous life/era and now I have the longing to complete them in this one….

    Looking at your most recent Insta story, it looks as if you are in Wales right now, – enjoy every moment! I live in Scotland, but regularly visit Victoria as my son lives in the Peninsula….. Wishing you a creative 2019, I know I will enjoy following you!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Oh Astrid your kind and thoughtful words have touched my heart greatly! Thank you so very much for taking the time to write me! I am so glad to have you on board! 😃
      P.s I live in Australia and the photos of my time in Wales and England were last year and the year before.
      Love Camille xx


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