It’s finally happening–the painstaking gaze from without to within. The simple pour that this thirsty soul has been begging for; the welcome tingle of blood flowing back to numbed skin. It feels good to shed again. Lifted by the spirits that surround me, swept by the leaves that fell before me, and re-awakened by the…
July was a solid month of summer joy. With alternating rows of high heat, rain, cool evenings and persisting humidity, July defined our days and served us spontaneity and unpredictability on a platter. Instagram has been my main mode of connection, and if we are friends on Instagram I apologize for the repeats, but I…
I am aware. I am aware that I’m bandaged by the adornments that occupy and tweak the human mind. I dress in colors that drip from my ears to the straps around my heels. I register daily the size of my body and the lines and spots that emerge from beneath the skin. Beneath the…
I am watching my life in stories. Some words have been written on paper, but lately collected pictures have become the narrator. I string the details together like a popcorn garland, then line them end to end along the walls I call my world. Details like… Like the day we hiked like madmen only to…
Well hello :-). Yes it’s been awhile, shall we sit and have tea and catch up? How are you? How is your summer so far? And your family? Me? I’m doing pretty well and yes I had a good birthday. 43 has been a breeze so far. We returned recently from visiting my grandmother in…
“Trust the instinct to the end, though you can render no reason.” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson Lately, the currents have lead to unexpected tangents, where thinking less and instinctively flying more is necessary. Hence, I have found freedom in the busiest days. I am busier than I have been in years actually, making the quiet…
I took one small step closer, cautious, curious and completely aware that all he had to do was take one powerful leap in my direction to spear me with those handsome antlers of his. His watchful, deep black eyes were on me. Though his munching jaws would seem to say that he could care less…
It’s 6:39am. All ten fingers curl around my mug made of clay, sun and moon. A soy latte the color of a soaken mudpie warms my throat before sliding down into my belly. On a perfect day, there is no rush, no urgency to shower or wake the children. I am free to tiptoe down…
I remember trying so hard to speak (or was it scream? I don’t remember), but all that managed to eek from a vivid sleep and a dry throat were whimpers, loud enough to wake my husband and cause him to lay his hand on my head to wake me. I remembered every detail of that…
wander wonder discover 
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