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tender letters
23 June 2009 @ 12:43 pm
Friends Only
04 May 2009 @ 06:20 pm
I have been reading the Wu Wei. It is unspeakably beautiful.
( for the ones i miss and have not yet met )
19 March 2009 @ 02:24 pm
16 February 2009 @ 09:37 pm
03 February 2009 @ 12:03 am
08 January 2009 @ 05:56 pm
29 December 2008 @ 12:17 pm
I had a quiet and beautiful Christmas. I think I'll pretend it's not over just yet. At least for a little while longer.
I hope your holidays were lovely and sweet and full of granted wishes too. xox
( ******* )
28 November 2008 @ 02:04 am
18 November 2008 @ 02:10 am
I saw one of the ghosts again tonight. They have been so very quiet. Maybe it is the coming
cold weather that makes them hide and creep around very carefully when we are home.
We have gotten quite used to them, really. We accept their presence the way
we accept change. The way we accept sleep and rainy Saturday evenings.
Tonight, the visit happened right before dinner time. She kept opening our cupboards.
I often wonder why they do these things, and why they sometimes choose not to.
I wonder if they can hear me when I say thank you when they turn on a light right as I am about to
or when I ask them to stop making so much noise
because I'm alone and get afraid. I wonder if they ever feel alone and get afraid too.
We have snow already, it comes in silent waves and then leaves in a hurry.
It seems like that is the way everything works this time of year. Nothing can
quite make up it's mind.
( Read more... )
11 November 2008 @ 12:14 am
09 November 2008 @ 02:59 am
I've been feeling rather sickly for two weeks, polar bear size chills creeping and tiptoeing inside my bones.
And sometimes, when you feel poorly for a very long time
it is hard to not get sad.
That is why it's important to keep a few of your most favorite things close by; because
an autumn time sickness can be the loneliest kind of sickness there is.
Here are some of the things that make me feel better:
Wearing rose petal perfume even if nobody is there to smell it.
Stories of Lillith and ghost fish and giant conch shells that keep secrets.
Looking at pictures of nighttime seashores and drawing my dreams in pencil; even the scary ones.
Eating one more spoonful of soup, even when all I want is chocolate cake.
someone to play banjo songs for me and make me laugh when I'm feeling grumpy.
someone who doesn't mind when I don't laugh because I am feeling grumpy.
&hearts
( Read more... )
17 October 2008 @ 06:22 pm
04 October 2008 @ 12:21 pm
01 September 2008 @ 08:11 pm
While reading folklore in the ivy brush, i fell asleep. I had dreams of
all the beasts that lived in that forest. But they kept themselves hidden. the fauns, inui, wilis, will-o-the-wisps,
and follets. Marids, satyrs, and even the tiny banshees howling with a sound most fearsome.
I woke up wishing that I lived close to these magical mountain forests.
Will and I just got home from a long trip. Winding rodes up and up
and forests as deep as the red sea. He told me of the seven-year locusts
that were crying out to each other and leaving their old husks behind them.
I felt sad that I should not see them again for seven more years.
The wind and trees have been telling us that autumn is
on her way. I long for pear cider, chapped red lips, mittens,
and woven cotton cardigans with apple shaped buttons.
♥
( &hearts )
25 August 2008 @ 07:21 pm
18 August 2008 @ 09:07 pm
11 August 2008 @ 01:12 pm
04 August 2008 @ 08:21 pm
I made a little room in a box.
xox
29 July 2008 @ 08:06 pm
Every summer when I was a child, I spent two weeks at Grandma and Papa's
farm house. It seemed so very big and so very old because
of all the secret rooms and the ghosts who lived in them. It was the house
my mother grew up in and where my papa grew food for their money.
This house. where my mama jumped off the shed roof with
an umbrella. She was pretending to be Mary Poppins that day.
She sprained her ankle and got quite a whipping after landing on papa's car.
I believe she was secretly
quite sure she had flown, if only for the briefest of moments.
Later, after she grew bored of umbrella flying, she took
up vine swinging. Crying out like Tarzan as she hung from the
Pecan trees.
My favorite room in the house was called "the blue room".
I slept there because it felt like a room fit for Alice, dreaming
of the White Rabbit and Cheshire Cat.
Every year that i grow older, memories of the house grow fuzzier.
I often wish I could go back so I could remember things more clearly.
I often wonder if mama, grandma, and papa wish they could too.
( Read more... )
08 July 2008 @ 07:51 pm
