On Sunday mornings I allow myself to get excited about the world that I haven’t seen – which is much of it. I envision myself on passenger ships steaming into ports and writing in a spiral bound notebook my first impressions of the living panorama. Doors open. I flick through pages and pages of blogs showing me what I haven’t seen or smelled or tasted. It makes my adventurous heart pause and race and yearn.
Here are a few images of places and experiences I hope to capture in my own words and photos some day.
Life is a storybook and I’m trying to accept these characters
For what they’re destined to be
Trying to accept the fates and fortunes
The fools and follies
The givers and takers
The glass-half-broken folks
And people who claim to have no glass
I need you.
More than I’ve needed most things, because I’m scared of who I’ll be without the happiness you bring.
I’m keeping shelter as I go. Leaving markers in hopes I find my way back. Hoping I’ll find some way back.
I’m scared of being led on, but terrified of not being led at all.
On the surface we’re all shiny and blue. Beneath we all run red.
I’m a person abroad.
I’m not home, but I’m not nothing either.
my heart is a carpenter’s light fixture
exposed wires, dusty lightbulb
hanging above the room
(perhaps the elephant within it)
above the truth
a quiet referendum
all the flowers have been picked
my grief untethered.
if i were to describe the way in which i feel about you,
it would best be described as a hum
you know that constant sound that’s always present even when no other sounds are
even in complete silence, no movement, no action,
just the sound of your own breath…
you still hear that hum
that’s how i think of you not purposefully yet always