24.11.10

we've got the dreamer's disease.

being a diva, well is all about owning it.

writer's block. dang it. four months of writer's block.
trying to break free here. (so bear with me.)

don't let go, you gotta do what you feel.
finally i was able to sleep deeply

and wake up with sand in my hair and salty skin.
there is nothing comprable to the intensity of the ocean.
nor is there anything that can match it in comfort.
nowhere else can i be so unsure of what i do not know,
yet feel so effortless in conversation
andi haven't felt this sort of embrace in a while.
it just all comes out.

lately i have been insanely touched by the beauty around me. i have been working on enjoying the present. enjoying the now, not worried about later or what might happen or what the future holds, but rather taking the moment to breathe. i think a lot of enjoying the moment for what it is, is appreciating the beautiful things that surround you now. it is not letting someone who has moved you, just go by. it is jumping into an ocean full of jellyfish and feeling the sting of a man-of-war. it is letting yourself cry. its driving the longer route just to be by the water. it is just walking. just walking, no direction., no destination.
"for you have been taught by God to love one another...we urge you to do more and more, and aspire to live quietly and to mind your own affairs, and to work with your hands so that you may walk properly before outsiders and be dependent on no one." I thessalonians 4
i like these things right now: windmills, pomegranites, imagination, fisheye lens, yoga, saltwater.
so i was talking to someone the other day while painting and they told me they didn't believe in imagination :[ my heart broke a little bit. i want to be five again.
I keep gaining more inspiration for writing my book. so i have a collection of photos and post it notes, thus far. my book is going to be of passer-bys. a collection of encounters. because that is important to me: people and their stories, and mostly taking time to listen and learn something from someone strange, new, beautiful. i think i am going to start with velcro man who brushed my little seventh grade life on the metro in D.C. he didn't know it but he sparked in me this passion for stories, that I cannot simply let go of.
i am so full of quick, fleeting thoughts.
i love november. the sun rises early,
the sky is blue and the air is cold.
the sun warms my cheeks and my nose remains froze
the leaves are falling, but the trees still display impressive hues
yellows and oranges and reds and oh the yellows.
are my favorite.
my mug of tea warms my hands, my legs are unshaven,
i have time to photograph and knit, and read. purely for pleasure.
the fireplaces are cracking and
oh if only time could slow down.
- JESUS CAST A LOOK ON ME. GIVE ME SWEET SIMPLICITY. -

hear
so that your
soul
may live.
i still cannot figure out why i blog. i am not advertising anything. nor do i have a political view to fight for. which makes me wonder: is it bad i haven't ever voted?
final thought: i am a song repeater. i could listen to the same song probably a million times and not get tired of it. oh hey sublime...waiting for my ruca. is currently that song.

i don't really think that matters, at all.
oh well it is done and said. or is it said and done?
its 3a.m i am in cantonment ya'll.
she sent a message of love:
i like it the the way you move i love the way you rap.

321..salmon.

"DIE TO THE IDEA OF ARRIVAL."

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