we all have this moment.

we all have stories to tell; songs to sing  and dreams to dream. we all have love to give; a heart that will break and memories yet to make. we all have said goodbye; tears that have dried and barenaked regrets to hide. we all have lingering sorrow; the lost history of tomorrow and nostalgia…

35 days on the (yellow brick) road.

“you’re on your own.  and you know what you know.  and you are the one who’ll decide where to go.”   -dr. seuss it is the strangers you meet on the road that you end up falling madly in love with.  the likeminded drifters that become darling soul-friends.  at least that is what my literary…

the push-away-good-bye.

The anticipation of a hello. The ambivalence of saying goodbye. That profound moment in time where two people connect–where your hearts collide. Upon arrival a lingering departure looms but you don’t think about it, as you haven’t made any memories yet. You unpack your bags and take a look around. Embracing the person in front…

lost together.

As far as gap years go I was a late bloomer in filling up my backpack. And like every drifter with a dream the adrenaline of altitude shot through my veins stronger than a hit of smack. The tempting vices of an open passport, foreign port of calls and wild cultures left me in an…

of you.

with memories of you only to leave and then to meet you again that is serendipity    

insanely courageous; beautifully brave.

living takes courage. i never knew what courage was until i got on that plane, went to the other side of the world.  perhaps i always had it.  but i never felt it.  never embraced the self confidence to admit it; to revel in it.  that was five years ago. i’ve been cultivating courage ever…

crazy heart.

i aspire to be a writer.  i suppose i am a writer.  i am committed to sharing stories; telling stories.  literary vulnerability from my brain to your eyes.  to read.  to digest.  to digress.  it seems though that through my own reading — and research — i often come across a poet or a writer…

a diamond day.

i used to think that standing upside down was the most relaxing way to perceive the world; that cycling was the most playful way to glide through nature; that walking was the most intimate form of play. then i lived a diamond day. a day filled with a bluebird sky and a jeweled sun, curated…

sunday strolling.

today was a day to revel in the tundra’s beautiful cold. a day for dancing down main street while the banjo strummed in my ear. it was a day to see elderly lovebirds walk the frozen beach hand in hand. it was a day not to think but to be. it was a day to…