Honestly, writing a short biography on my About Me page has always been, by far, the most difficult thing to write about. How can I possibly whittle myself down into five short sentences and properly convey who I am? When in reality, I am the never ending ripples in the puddle of water, flowing around and beyond your fingertip that’s barely skimming the surface, disrupting my calm. I am the moonlight on your face as you look up into the night sky, counting the starts while I count the freckles decorating your skin. I am the coffee cup you hold in your hand as your breath fogs up the air around you; scalding your tongue for coming too closely, too soon, but inviting you into my warmth once you learn to be patient. I am the book that’s in your hand, whispering my secrets only to those that take the time to caress my spine, and slowly learn my pages. I am the ink staining your skin, as you write frantically on a few sheets of torn up paper and a crinkled receipt from the grocery store, trying to capture your thoughts and keep them ensnared in the scribbles of your writing, before they slip through your fingertips and dance out of your ever reaching grasp. I am the foreign bill in your hand, the unfamiliar texture that you can’t stop rubbing your fingertips over as you stare in bewilderment and awe, drinking in the sights and sounds around you, completely lost in a different world. I am the map in your hand, that you desperately try to decipher, thousands of miles away from where you came from, yet strangely, feeling like home when you finally learn to read me. I am the paint you so brilliantly push across the canvas in front of you, watching as the myriad of colors come together and breathe life before your eyes. I am the crisp coolness of the stream that you dip your aching toes into, after a long hike that leaves you breathless and sore. I dance and swim and paint the color into your world, my essence drenched into the walls that surround you. How could I possibly build a cage of words around me as I try to explain myself to you? Come, instead, take me by the hand and run into the rainstorm with me, wet leaves clinging to our boots, and let me show you who I am.
Hi and welcome to my blog. My name is Dina Babak and I am a writer, photographer, and an avid coffee drinker. A few passions of mine include reading, writing (obviously), painting, traveling, and red wine.
My love for blogging began in 2013 when I ran a blog by the name of ‘Brown Paper Packages’ for a few years. It was then that I realized that I wanted to become a serious blogger and use this as a creative outlet, so here I am, years later as the author of Coffee Flavored Thoughts.
If you enjoy reading poetry, going on adventures, getting lost both physically and metaphorically, and making time to laugh at yourself while trying to rush to work, hitting every single stoplight and spilling coffee onto your white pants, then you are at the right place! Follow along with me and live vicariously through my musings, stories, and photos!
Ernest Hemingway once said, “There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a type writer and bleed.”