Seagulls sound like happy goats and naked babies tickle toes in the water; the first day of spring in the bones is a good day indeed for a picnic with my bare knees. The duck, with feathers slicked from quick dips looks smooth and skilled like a snake, in the water. I perch on my rock ledge wearing my wild hair listening to … Read More Sunlight Spotlight
I abhor routine. Routine makes me feel like I’m adding more and more iron reinforcement to my own cage. That I stick myself in these patterns and they hold me accountable. They take over; I must do this and then this and then this exactly this way, it’s expected of me. It’s what I’ve got to do. I find that this routine-loathing is quite … Read More Routine vs. Ritual
How peculiar to be so water proof. Like eating a sandwich with only the hands; so much easier than knife and fork, than rain coat umbrella- I’ll just get messy use the restroom hand dryer. These rules we make for not ourselves. Actually I don’t recall making the rules at all.
It’s a bottle of wine and a glass of stars— and my heart beat beats like you wouldn’t believe. The wind, she rustles my tresses but solicits no favors; she gathers me up and dip dives down in the valleys of tree tops and tumbled down ran-shacks the very kind I can empathize with.
I rest with the little waves. My feet are sore and feeling heavy a happy heavy, an earned heavy, these waves have traveled a lifetime. We surge together, side by side blood flushes with the swelling tide then down, back down, down for both our sakes’. We ebb and flow and contemplate magnitude, hand in hand, soul in soul with softened gazes a … Read More Magnitude
The forest smells like peppermint and wraps me inside its Christmas hug; are those clouds? or the sea?— Does it matter? The world spins and I spend so much effort dashing the other way. Frantic flailing sort of running the kind that finds me farther back from whence I came.
I have found, when it comes to travel living (i.e. the act of traveling to a place to cultivate a life for a medium-length temporary period of time before moving along to a new destination and repeating the process), I feel almost all emotions in a concentrated dose. To a degree, this happens when I’m just travel-traveling, for a week or so to a … Read More Things Come Together, Things Fall Apart
Before, the world was steady and still soft ankle grass hugging loose not breathing (me either) my hair catching the chapstick (staying put) I held the book with one hand— not a page shivered. But the clouds are moving faster, now— the wind has arisen. My bangs (my fringe) a windshield wiper the grass rushes (still soft, it tickles) my two fingers spring … Read More Precipice
What a lovely thing, the written word. When you find that gut-dropping eyebrow-raising turn-of-phrase and you breathe: articulation. That’s me! That’s me written out and articulated! Then you get along with life–you no longer search for what the hell is this mumble of emotions you don’t have to spend your nights where is the justification?! It’s equally good, if not better, to read soul … Read More A Slice of Articulation