Friday, May 27, 2011

a warm welcome

My first twenty four hours in Minneapolis were a lovely and warm welcome. A day at hidden beach and zac and becca's goodbye party. So much sunshine, so many smiles, so many friends.

Thursday, May 26, 2011


There is something beautiful here. A certain beauty that comes from letting things be, from letting things grow and grow old. Allowing a history to develop just on the sidewalk outside your house or the wall holding your sloping front yard in place. I have arrived to find everything exactly where I left it last, and everyone as lovely as ever. Funny how time feels as if I spliced myself from then to now, like I never left, never missed a beat. How is it possible to feel both here and there at all times, to feel as if I could shift my existence so seamlessly. I think it has something to do with the light, the way it filters through the thick trees and makes shadows on the leaves. I think it has a lot to do with the air and the way it sits on my skin. The actual tangible corners that I have stood on so many times that at twenty five feel and look a lot like the did at eighteen. Why am I surprised by the green every time as if I didn't know these colors could exist in such variance. What beauty. Maybe it is the Romantic in me but I feel closer to something life like.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

peace out

Getting everything together in the last final moments before hoping on a plane to Minneapolis for the next two weeks to see some friends, listen to some music, find some peace, finish a collection of short stories, and test the theory as to whether one can ever really go home again. I will be working diligently trying to channel some of that certain spirit the city has to offer me, polishing off these stories with style. Minneapolis is the reason I started this collection and it seems only fitting to finish it there. However the amount of pressure I have placed on myself with this journey is nothing short of, something ridiculous. In times of creation, especially premeditated creation, there is a certain level of anxiety. Will I, Can I, step up to the plate and execute in the way I know I am in my best of days capable of. I hope so. Stay with me, it will undoubtedly be at the very least, a good time. peace out.

Monday, May 23, 2011


Meet Socrates. We Love Him. 


My therapist and my psychic told me that vanity in a healthy dose can be helpful. 
He said, "you spend 99% of your energy on physical health, and only 1% on mental health."
Well, here's to finding some balance on that scale. 

make sense

you know you're probably right. you usually are and it's something I've grown to be okay with. a part of me likes looking to you for answers, if nothing else. how is it that some things that make the least sense in our lives can at the same time make the most sense. that doesn't even make sense. it's something along the lines of... where this at one point seemed crazy, now instead everything else seems silly and crazy. like this is the only thing.

Friday, May 20, 2011

For V

There is a certain way that some people can know you, because they have seen you change. There are certain people in my life, not many, just a very few that know me in this way. I just got off the phone with one of them. I spent the afternoon on my patio in California sipping ice tea, her worlds away in her apartment in Indianapolis. Separate time zones, separate lives for years and years now. Yet, still I feel more myself than ever hearing her laugh on the other end of the line. Life keeps taking us in these unforeseeable directions landing us in places and becoming people we always hoped we would be. Because when she says, "I am what I wanted to be," I like no one else in her world can understand the truth of that statement. Yes my little star light you have become exactly who you have wanted to be since we were in the fourth grade, sitting in your bedroom, and doing our hair in your bathroom. I have always admired her sense of direction. She taught me what direction was. She taught me to dream and to write and to be who I wanted to be, one day. Catching up is a funny thing, the things you choose to say and what becomes relevant. The parts of our lives we want to share, the things we are still afraid of, the complete and utter lack of purpose I have at the moment. She sees in my sentences the same girl I always have been, pointing out my nature in a way I don't see anyone around me doing these days. She knows me in a way that someone can only know you if they have seen you change, watched you grow, held your hand at funerals, picked up several of your broken hearts, and still phone you fifteen years later on Friday afternoon just to see what's new.

think about it

They both thought the clouds would clear. She wanted to wait it out, wanted to let things fix themselves. But time doesn't always move in a linear pattern, sometimes it jumps from here to there taking pieces with it, and leaving others behind. It's not always that easy to think about. He wanted to intervene, take it all into his own hands and manipulate the outcome. The most they could hope for was a middle ground but that too seemed to be shifting. Every ideal and expectation was altered so there was no clear to think about it. No way through it, no way around it.

Monday, May 16, 2011


If you could find out, would you want to know your future?

Sunday, May 15, 2011

lugar escondido

You exist in this strange archive of my mind, a catalog of moments that never happened, places we never went, conversations that never took place. I keep them categorized by seasons. For example, we have never met in winter. You have never seen me shiver against the wind. I have never watched your breath thin and disappear, hanging on your words while you speak through the chill. I always thought summer was a season for love, but growing older I have found myself to be wrong about that, among other things. Winter is the most romantic of all the changes. In it's desperation it holds no pretenses, never trying to be something else. Unapologetically it just is what it is in all it's lovely fury. For no one ever loves the way they have loved in winter. 


"When did you become so sad, so riddled with melancholy?" he asked.
"I don't know, I suppose it's the season," she said, but there was a break in her voice. A break so brief, a sound so slight only someone as transfixed as he would notice. The lapse in structure, or force, maybe from lack of conviction fell between the first and second syllable of the word "suppose," making an audible, almost physical manifestation, demonstration, of the word itself; broadcasting to him her insurmountable uncertainty.

Saturday, May 14, 2011

on me.

Met a man who was traveling the world for a living. Spent all the inbetween drinking slowly in hotel bars. Told me the hardest thing about being both nowhere and somewhere all the time is attaining or cultivating a certain someone. Told me that the most lonely part about being constantly in motion is that every time you find something beautiful, something worth holding onto, is that inevitably you always have to leave it behind. However at the same time the finality of everything and the perfection available when moments exist out of time and space are very well likely the very things that make her so beautiful to begin with. I brought him another drink, told him it was on me.

I Say

From yoga I have learned the undeniable power of self affirmations. I have been repeating to myself for the last few days these three inspired by Granddaddy, Billy Joel, and a super random Resse Witherspoon movie I watched on my day off....

-Guess who lost the "Go" in the "Go For It" (less of an accusation and more of a warning)

-You can get what you want, or you can just get old

-Deny a voice to that which is falling apart

Cheezy, yes. Working, yes. I find myself coming unraveled at the seams and for one reason or another one of these will save me, stitch me back up, and send me on my way. With a much needed vacation on the nearing horizon I can only hope that some silence will allow me to hear what my head and my heart have to say as well. goodnight.

Friday, May 13, 2011


I am not a superstitious person. If anything I find luck in the most unexplainable places. Today of all days is my kind of day. He thinks I'm a witch. He thinks I'm a gypsy. Sitting under this latter with my black cat Belladonna. Happy Friday the 13th.

don't bother and choose


Maybe the internet deleted this post because it disagreed with the fundamental nature of my request for answers. I asked for a yes or a no, I asked for some direction. I understand the necessity to search within and find a way out of all these choices. I get that. But on days like yesterday when nothing seems clear and the questions only pile outside the door, what else am I supposed to do?

He said to me, "who says you have to know?" We always have life talks because time is short and words are sweet. No one else seems to understand in the same way. Why is it so clear when he says it although I have thought the same thing five times that day? Why is it only here in dark corners that it seems okay to not know anything, aside from this? Where is clarity now? Where are you now?


Where did they go? You can't trust anyone. You can't trust the internet. Posts being deleted out of thin space air? Not cool blogspot. Not cool.


I literally hunted these shoes down. I have never ever felt this way about a material possession let alone a pair of shoes. I haven't taken them off in days. I am so so in love.

Thursday, May 12, 2011

tell me truly

Sometimes in life I wish there were just answers. There are so many questions and no answers. I know that I am supposed to find beauty in the journey, in the uncertainty, but I want just this once to know what to do. I need an answer. I need a yes or a no. Please.

Wednesday, May 11, 2011


This is me and lovely little Megan in only two weeks....

the question

A friend of mine and I always end up having the same discussion. Do you create simply when inspiration strikes or must you create a discipline in which you create every day out of necessity because inspiration alone is not and never will be just enough? What do you think?


April showers bring May flowers.

Wednesday, May 4, 2011


I have never understood someone so little as the way that I understand you. I have never been able to find a logical path in thought, in action, in heart to make any thing make sense. I find this to be both the most frustrating and wonderful thing about this. Is it better to know, or better to never know how one feels, how lives, how one dreams? Is it this that keeps my thoughts in constant motion and my fingers in constant creation. I suppose so. I suppose you would never know, unless, now you do.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011


Why is it that some days it's easy and other days it's impossible. I'm reffering to everything from love to work to just being alive. Some days roll by without the slightest flicker of frustration or ruination and then other days I can't seem to pull myself from the trench of the unknown. Not knowing, is that okay? She said it was okay to not know what you want. Is it really? Is it okay to not have the slightest clue in all of the universe as to what I want from life? Why is it so clear sometimes and so murky right now? Hush. I need everything to hush so I can hear my hearts desire. I need the waters to calm and time to stand still, I need something. Hush.

Monday, May 2, 2011

Babes in Babeland

Summer is here. You know how I can tell? ... look here...

Because the ladies are fully stocked with Blue Moon heading to the beach with big smiles and big hats and...

...Andrea's got all the windows down blasting oldies..
...and I am wearing three different shades of purple..

you spend days like this at 34th and heaven 

and there are boys :)

and cats, named Boonie, she's looking for her cylde..

Babes in Babeland.

Babe of the Week. Aly.

you know it's summer when...

there you're at the beach and nothing else matters all that much...

summer in all it's glory...

Later in the day we found this super random trippy park that was themed after the ocean and had all sorts of trippy parks within the park and poems and weird ass shit... it made me feel like I should have been on mushrooms...

You will come to a place where the street are not marked..
Aly and Neptune
Neptune and I really hit it off...