like never

and then just like that as if the two of them had never happened at all, not even for a moment, all traces were gone. they vanished in the wind, famished by lack of force and feed. the pictures all blew away and the bracelets found new homes. the wind chimes stopped singing and the coffee stopped brewing. the whole world they had created ceased to exist and all the creatures that lived there slowly died along with it. it was like it never happened.

adam.

I had the strangest dream last night in which I weathered an insane storm. An old friend of mine who passed away a few years ago came to the window. I see him in dreams on occasion and every time I know, even in dream world, that his presence is something special. I always take special care to listen in hopes that when I wake up I will remember whatever it was he came to tell me. This time I carried into the conscious world only one piece of advice. He told me to keep my eyes open. I know there was more. I remember struggling to hear him through the window. I remember he even opened the window and said something more. However I cannot for the life of me remember what he said. Every time I see him his smile and his eyes are just as bright and infectious as the last time I saw him in life. My day is full of his memory and the friends we shared. For those of you out there, I love you.

blocked

TH

medium format film by Taylor Herron, spring 2012, just before I left for Sri Lanka. Thank you.

squaw valley

For forty three years writers have been coming together in the picturesque scape of Squaw Valley to do nothing other than hone the craft of the written word. It's so wonderfully of my world that it seems like something I would make up in a day dream. I received my acceptance this week to Squaw Valley's summer writing program. The realist wondered immediately how I was going to pay for it seeing as how I just got back from the other side of the world and am conveniently unemployed. Then the dreamer who tends to take up more of being immediately banished all worry. I am beside myself with anticipation on spending a fine week in July around some of the most talented writers we have to offer right now. Janet Fitch will be there. I geeked out. Her novel White Oleander changed the trajectory of my life as I finally decided to embrace the gift of writing that had been haunting me my whole life. I am grateful and proud to be among the 126 writers making the trek this summer. Cheers.

loves

is there anything more genius than these adorable glasses designed by Elizabeth and James with interchangeable lenses. gorgeous.

i'm not