Hi! I'm Elysée, a Blasian girl taking my abode in the exciting metropolis that is Toronto.
I was born and raised in China, and came to Canada in 2012. After receiving my degree in psychology at Queen's University, I am now launching an exciting and challenging career in the field of communications, social media, and content management.
A devotee of arts, music, and literature; I have found solace in creative writing for as long as I can remember. And now as I venture in this beautiful land, I wish to capture what I see and what I feel, and share my adventures with everyone.
Fall claimed its arrival quite suddenly this year. Brisk wind arises, sending the chill breath of northern air, carrying a whiff of burnt leaves. Summer drew to an early end; nights lengthen, while days grow short. Sunlight melts into a mellower golden tone, and the sky seems to be bluer, stretching ever higher and thinner.
‘Tis a season of fresh new beginnings, of warm spices lingering on your tongue, of expecting reunions amidst the bleak and bitter cold. Pumpkin flavoured drinks and apple cinnamon pies, Jack-o’-Lantern and thrillers for show, houses and shops wearing black and orange, followed by green and red. Then ere you are ready for it, there it is again – the start of yet another year. “Time flies.” They say; cliche, yet how true! With the maturing of age, time seems to be slipping away even faster and faster.
For me, this Fall is for embracing the new. Not only does it mark the 5th year of my adventures in Canada, it has also brought me the start of a whole new career. Nearly 2 weeks ago, I was accepted into an organization with an amazing team that is genuinely supportive of each others’ growth. Now, I have the fortune to shape my aspirations – my passion, my dreams – into reality, which I almost gave up hope on.
This morning, in the “wee small” hour of daybreak, I woke up with a start for reasons unknown to me, and found myself in a world of blissful serenity. A brush of morning light found its way through the blinds, and filled my bedroom with its faint, rosy colour. I rose to its beckoning.
It all started with this little book I received from my mother. I must not have been more than 5 years old then. The book was nothing special, its contents were but samples of elementary-school students’ compositions with pictorial illustrations. Something many Chinese parents would buy for their little children who were just starting to learn how to read and write. Yet it was the first piece of literature I ever encountered; and it ensnared me. I remember going over those short essays and stories again and again, seeing what the authors saw, feeling what the authors felt. My imagination was kindled. Eventually I began to write on my own, in a little notebook, imitating and learning from what I had read. What was beyond my vision at that time, was that I had nailed my soul to the altar of something far powerful than I will ever be; and that I had pledged myself with a vow that cannot be broken or annulled.