Monday, February 28, 2011

Saturday, February 26, 2011

"the winter belongs to the ground"

I am reading a book so beautiful I can only take it in very small bits.  It's called Things That Fall From the Sky  and we're not sure where it came from.  Perhaps the inevitable sky?  xo

Friday, February 25, 2011

Thursday, February 24, 2011

Itching to wear my new most perfect cowboy boots ($2.50 church thrift) but I guess I'll go play in the snow instead.  xx

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

a dialectic

photo by me
Comforting myself with alpaca photos and a choice: to mourn this loss or revel in the space left behind?    xo

Saturday, February 19, 2011

to be contained

I've been collecting containers, from suitcases to dry sacks to glass jars: useful and inert spaces for the things I carry.

He said he could feel his cells tearing apart, and that his blankets were made of concrete.  It was enough to send him screaming through the house at 4 am in a half-dream daze, frightening the other students and testing Scott's capacity for calm (he passed).  Typically grounded and rational, an impish smile crept into his features as he relayed the incident: over two days old and fading.

Looking out my window with a cup of tea,  I see my neighbor carrying her toddler, unfazed by the deep drifts of snow and his relentless screaming.

The hardest part about that night was needing desperately to fall apart.

xo

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

as I pack my things

photo by me
I am feeling that wanderlust like a toothache.  Craving red earth, big sky and curious brown hands.  Missing back alley Tom Yum and lazy hookahs on the beach.  Feeling good to let go of things.

xo

Thursday, February 3, 2011

photo by me
Portland has left me tired in an oh so good way.  xo