A never-ever. The ultimate beginner. One who has ever considered trying. I love the endearing sentiment of this ski term, “a never-ever”. I learned it’s meaning the other day. While I’m not a never-ever or a novice (I’ve been growing on skis for about seven years now) I once was. As comfortable as I may…
i love you because.
i love you because you live with a grace that radiates kindness and a heart so resilient its cracks infiltrate your beautiful flaws the ones that failed you the ones that made you i love you because you see a world shining with good a vision so pure that you move mountains to help others…
you’re pretty much magic.
Reminder to self: you’re pretty much magic. I, like you reading this post, forget at times just how fiercely badass I am. Bipolar blurs the line for me often when I’m on the cusp of an emotional breakthrough. One moment I’m self-assured fabulous and the next I’m fretting about somewhere between calamity and chaos. I…
just a small town girl.
Just a small town girl living in a (not so) lonely world. Back in 2016, HuffPost published a blog post titled “13 Reasons to Date a Girl From a Small Town“. Among them were: She’s courageously independent for making the decision to leave home and explore the world; She’s a family girl – family is…
wander alone.
noise surrounds us. most of it static. infused confusion by the chaos of the mad beat hustle. but here in the conservation of nature i’m able to lay within my thoughts. space to contemplate. freedom to listen to a conversation with myself. to rant and ramble; ponder and philosophize. to speak a nonsensical tangent that…
intersections.
crossroad. way finding. junction. interchange. roundabout. cloverleaf. these are a few words synonymous with the noun, “intersection”. a juncture of happenstance or a meeting point of two paths, an intersection can be a fleeting instance of colliding chaos or a yielding moment of magically sweet serendipity. a crosswalk where two hearts greet; where a twist…
the bedlam of your beauty.
i find myself frequently penning these words together lately. like most of my scribes the meaning unfolds after i’ve had a moment to digest the sounds of their syllables. so, i thought i would elaborate on this incognito phrase in more intimate detail. indulge me with your curiosity if you will dear reader. bed•lam, noun:…
hope grows.
the black rose represents hope and rebellion. its associated with death but its elegant black beauty can also mean rebirth and rejuvenation. in sobriety, it’s seen as a symbol of strength and resiliency; a beautiful bloom grown from darker days. it’s for these reasons and more that i chose the obscure, romanticized flower as a…
let’s talk…
Let’s talk. About sex and suicide … mania and moods … drugs and depression … being and bipolar … anxiety and alcohol … hurt and hunger … violence and vices … pain and poison. Let’s also talk about the happiness of being human and how that too can be fleeting. It’s ok to talk about…
courage, and grace too.
the lyrics of your life can be struck by a single chord. your heart a cadence of melancholic refrain. the soundscape that is the song can capture your sentiment in a triad of moments – transmitting you back in time through the power of nostalgia. such a melody lets you linger there in the space…
static confusion. 