Log in

Julia Seashell-eyes [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]
Julia Seashell-eyes

[ website | Miettes ]
[ userinfo | livejournal userinfo ]
[ archive | journal archive ]

The cluttered cavern of silence [Mar. 22nd, 2013|02:31 pm]
Julia Seashell-eyes
[Current Location |US, Oregon, Yamhill, W Valley Hwy]

My mouth is stuffed with shredded cloth. This silence, these feelings that I am bound not to speak, they are not without a signifier. To become one who writes, I must walk again across the chasm beneath my words, confront the implicit idea that I write because I have something valid to say about the way the world works, that I am not a mere observer of the dappled shadows of the clouds lumbering across the barley field on a spring day, that I have something to say about their way or why of bring, some prismatic focus to bring the the rain cloud of chaos around us.

I do not believe in the clarity of my own voice at this moment. But I am stacking thoughts precariously against the bondage that restrains them, and one day soon, with or against my will, they will make themselves known.

When we were young we strained hard to conform against the pull of our own internal selves. It seems deeply ironic how soon after I find myself struggling to maintain a sense of self in the faceless onslaught of the quotidian demons.

Hold on...the phone is ringing.

Posted via LiveJournal app for iPhone.


(no subject) [Feb. 17th, 2013|09:48 pm]
Julia Seashell-eyes
[Current Location |United States, Oregon,Yamhill County, Unionvale]

If the tumbling colors recede from behind your eyes as they close at night

If the back roads don't seem worth detouring over

If strangers don't stop you to smile and say hellos in the grocery

Be warned.

Don't let your soul die don't let your soul die don't let your soul die.

Proceed immediately to the workshop, the deertrail, the highway one. Recovery will not be painless, but hey:

This is your life.

Posted via LiveJournal app for iPhone.


Umpqua River [Jan. 21st, 2012|09:12 pm]
Julia Seashell-eyes
I swear upon a grave I cannot find
in space or time;

gethsemane, the river whispered
coming down from the mountain

he climbed down onto these old stones to pray
but we've forgotten; the place is not just space
once the moment has passed
the river will wash away that holiness with new holiness
perhaps they will put up a town
built on a ghost town
built on a ghost

Ferngully [Feb. 20th, 2008|10:13 am]
Julia Seashell-eyes
I find my life overrun with fruits and vegetables, happily. I am now gainfully employed at the Limbo, where I fluff up, sample and sell fruits and vegetables to everybody I know, plus a few other people. When not working, I have been spending practically all my time in the garden, where I have planted the following: Lettuce, Mesclun Mix, Micro Greens, Mache, Cabbage, Collards, Kale, Radishes, Carrots, Beets, Leeks, Green Onions, Broccoli Raab, Chard, Arugula, Cilantro, Spinach, Potatoes, Peas, and Strawberries. Since I am going to be here this summer, I might as well go for it this year. It's so rewarding to help things grow. I think I will go plant some onions and brussels sprouts right now.
Link10 |Imbrue.

(no subject) [Feb. 12th, 2008|11:34 am]
Julia Seashell-eyes
the saffron flowers are shining
the sun is cautiously blooming
my garden is sprouting
spring has come again to the world
maybe I too can shed the shroud of dark earth
Link2 |Imbrue.

the long exile [Feb. 3rd, 2008|11:54 pm]
Julia Seashell-eyes
[Current Location |home]
[I hear |arcade fire every time you close your eyes]

For so long I have been meaning to write, meaning to examine the things in my heart and my head. Since I've written last I've explored one of the greatest rivers on the planet, fallen in love, travelled through a whole new continent, sold the family home in Astoria, worked sixteen hour days with wine and good company, and so on and so on. How is it that when you twine your life around love the self slips away? Why haven't I written a poem or a story or assembled pictures for all these months?

Now I need to, huddled on the brink of tears in the moldy darkness in a city full of sympathetic strangers. I feel like taking the nobility and jeunesse from the city and seeding it just beyond. It is good to be back with loves, but before I can get back into it, I need to figure out what I want to take out of it, where I am going. Where am I going?

In college, I could hide behind being in college. Now I have to face my perhaps flawed belief that everything I want is impossible and everything possible I cannot want. I have a feeling when the sun comes out it will all make sense again. I would like to sleep this month away.
Link3 |Imbrue.

and it couldn't be sold for silver or gold [Jun. 8th, 2007|01:12 am]
Julia Seashell-eyes
I love listening to country cause its heart's in the right place.

For example:

But I know I'm a lucky man
God's given me a pretty fair hand
Got a house and a piece of land
A few dollars in a coffee can
My old truck's still running good
My tickers ticking like they say it should
I got supper in the oven, a good woman's loving
And one more day to be my little kid's dad
Lord knows I'm a lucky man

But all is not well in the country because Dan Armstrong is paving my road. Why? So people will pay more for the McMansions he is building at the end of it. He doesn't even live on the road.

People who believe in heaven are always saying how surprised and disappointed all us infidels are going to be when we die and wake up in hell. Well I say, people who sacrifice everything for money are going to be pretty surprised to find out it doesn't buy happiness.

I just wish Dan Armstrong would learn before he beats the country out of existence with progress.

Seems like the way human history goes, soon as you call somewhere home, somebody else comes and takes it away.
Link2 |Imbrue.

i m felix da housecat on da prowl [Apr. 25th, 2007|03:47 am]
Julia Seashell-eyes
isn't it funny how at the last minute I always know my shit and crank it out?
two more nights like this and I will even be able to look Paul in the eye when I turn it in.
knock on wood and such. it could still get fucked.
when I'm not acting like a baby it feels pretty good to work.

fucking renn fayre on friday bitches

bring yer champagne!
Link4 |Imbrue.

spring spring spring again the birds are telling me [Apr. 6th, 2007|12:29 am]
Julia Seashell-eyes
I'm so tired but not of

making dandelion wine
saffron shiitake risotto cakes with sesame sauce in the sunshine
rallying around the fallen tifftiff
painting easter eggs with aden
waking up to strawberries, "beautiful julia"s and kisses
dutch baby house breakfasts
rolling down the river
shooting the shit with sid
working in the little garden
doyle owl dirty pictures

I'm sure there's more and I forgot.

I never write in sentences here anymore...I wonder if I'll regret it later?

36 hours before the draft deadline... [Mar. 22nd, 2007|12:19 am]
Julia Seashell-eyes
The most recent save of my thesis just randomly turned into 507 pages of gobbleygook!

It says I need some sort of file converter, which I never did before. My computer spent the last two weeks in the shop with all my files in it. I am ready to hand write the thing.

Should I throw myself off a cliff, cry, or drop out of school?


But otherwise, life is peachy. Kisses and baked goods and flowering trees.

Link2 |Imbrue.

(no subject) [Mar. 5th, 2007|10:39 pm]
Julia Seashell-eyes
This weekend we put on a big dinner party for cash=illegal restaurant under the direction of food hipster Michael Hebberoy of clarklewis, onepot, and a variety of other memorable food happenings around the NW. It was beautiful, beautiful food, made me want to spend my whole life taking wine from the vine to the table and potatoes from the dirt to the plate. Maybe? Michael wants to buy us some pots and we want to keep doing events. Next plan: a late night dessert bar with artisanal spirits. Stay tuned!

Everything is up in the warm blue air. Today was sundress season at last. I spent too much of the day in bed...is that possible? Everything is freaking me out. It's lucky I have amazing friends. I need to write my thesis. Why is it so hard to do? Senioritis, take two. I want to devour a project again.

Sending out the secret thoughts [Feb. 26th, 2007|06:20 pm]
Julia Seashell-eyes
[I am |calm]
[I hear |Bruce Springsteen - The Secret Garden]

The lesson is, when I am honest and brave, good things come my way.

Like hot springs voyages to the elvish mountains, shrouded in mist with dark towers and jagged cliffs and everything, rain drops falling so slow that I can see them as they land on my bare chest and steam away again. Wrapping my body around hot boulders and tucking it away in a tiny cave with a warm river inside. Spitting rocks and splashing like the lost boys. New friend, old friend, trancelike night driving home to the farm, forgetting about being hungry, forgetting about being tired, ironing the grudges out from around my eyes.

Like waking up as dawn breaks, just as bright and clear as that morning I saw when I couldn't sleep at all writing about you, me, us(?)... waking up as dawn breaks to find out that my restless dreams came exactly true and then some. I sent a message in a bottle seven hundred miles away and the reply came from just around the riverbend. It's dizzying, hearing all the words you were conjuring up to say to another person come out their lips and across the blanket towards you. When was the last time I was afraid of a kiss? What is going to happen now? I think it will be good. I was scared but not worried. I am scared but not worried. Things work out.
Link3 |Imbrue.

Salad days [Feb. 17th, 2007|05:45 pm]
Julia Seashell-eyes
[Current Location |the corner of the city]
[I hear |Jurassic 5 - The thin line]

I don't really have anything to say about how I don't want to write my thesis, except that I don't.

And I'm hella good at avoiding it. Maybe better than anyone else, ever.

I'm wearing a sundress, wearing short term memories of the warm sun, promising spring. I bought hella junk food at the used food store. It made me want to go home to the farm, where food doesn't come from dented boxes. I sat by the fire and watched the stars last night, in the yurt that lives in my back yard. Fell asleep and woke up to breakfast in bed. I am the richest girl in the world, I always feel like that lately. My hair smells like wood smoke and my skin smells like lemon verbena soap. Played with a little child I've known since infancy last night, and he is growing up fast and fearless, jumping from things he used to just gaze up at. Everyone is growing up fast, especially me.

It took me an hour to walk from one end of Eliot to the other Thursday night. So many friends here. Hard to believe I spent so many years plotting dropping out, transferring, getting away...

If I never finish my thesis, they can never make me leave.

(no subject) [Jan. 29th, 2007|09:25 pm]
Julia Seashell-eyes
It's a new semester.
It's still a good semester.
It's a pretty confusing semester.
All I know for sure is...
I have great friends...
I can't stand change...
and believing dogma is always easier than accepting the truth.

(no subject) [Jan. 22nd, 2007|01:27 pm]
Julia Seashell-eyes

Willow Pinkears got hit by a car. When I finish feeding the boys of the world, I am going to have another charity called Kittens Shouldn't Die, and put kitty-sized crosswalks on all the streets, and adopt every cat in the shelters, and every horse in the feed lot, and every orphan in the world. Punkin died a few months ago, too, but it is not as sad when an old one dies. He had a good long life.

I liked last semester a lot, and I can't tell if I will like this one as much. Everything feels like it is getting shook up. And then I will graduate and things will get really shook up.

The lesson of the week is I don't like it when things change, and change they do.

The other lesson is that I adapt to change by drinking excessively and cleaning like a fiend.

I don't have any class on Mondays, Wednesdays, or Fridays. I don't like that, but maybe it will make me work on my floundering thesis more.

Monday, Monday, Monday.
Link5 |Imbrue.

Songs of the year, songs of the summer [Jan. 12th, 2007|06:57 pm]
Julia Seashell-eyes
Sixth grade: Thinking of You - Hanson
Summer: To the Moon and Back - Savage Garden
Seventh grade: Semi-charmed Life - Third Eye Blind
Summer: Desperately Wanting - Better than Ezra
Eighth grade: Inside Out - Eve6
Summer: Leaving Town - Dexter Freebish
Ninth grade: Dammit - Blink182
Summer: The Secret Ninja - AFI
Tenth grade: The Prayer Position - AFI
Summer: Yesterday's Over - The Pietasters
Eleventh grade: IOU One Galaxy - The Ataris
Summer: Badfish - Sublime
Twelfth grade: Bohemian Like You - The Dandy Warhols
Summer: When the angels sing - Social Distortion
Freshman year: Hey Ya! - Outkast
Summer: Scarlet Begonias - Grateful Dead
Sophomore year: Tiger Woods - Dan Bern
Summer: Remind Me - Royksopp
Junior Year: Wagon Wheel - Old Crow Medicine Show
Summer: Fortress - Pinback
Senior Year: Remember the Mountain Bed - Billy Bragg and Wilco
Link4 |Imbrue.

so lately it has been like this. lovely, like always. [Jan. 9th, 2007|11:47 pm]
Julia Seashell-eyes
giggling girls nights and breakfast at noon
caramel apples and burritos
linoleum yurtbuilding
hot springs and cold snowball fights
hypnotic night driving through the forest, fog and rain and fallen trees
Bins! a handmade stuffed zebra from decades ago and my new favorite hoodie
getting excited about books on nationalism
sneezing fits!
growing a parachute of plans and dreams for after graduation
I love it when they ask "What are you thinking?"
losing EVERYTHING I OWN, then finding it again
trying to strike a roommate arrangement with Samosa Sue, that little devil
Hanging out with Laura and Anyel and Co, scandalizing them with the story of my life
Going to the Point with Jessa, pretending at being Bohemian heartbreakers (Or maybe we are?)
working in the vineyard in snow flurries, then under a rainbow
arring with the Scrappers-cat and living on candy and cereal and the dozing days
seeing Amity kids again, seeing McMinnville kids again
showering tinsel on the Christmas tree and the Christmas rascal

et cetera ad infinitum amen. I wish I could remember to write it all down, but I don't want to miss a thing.

the sun comes up and goes away and so does graduation day [Jan. 5th, 2007|10:44 pm]
Julia Seashell-eyes
Everyone keeps saying that the world is my oyster. Except, I don't know how to shuck an oyster.

And I feel like I'm just now finding my bearings in Portland. I know I'm lucky to have opportunities to travel and meet new people and broaden my horizons.

I just don't want to start over again.
Link2 |Imbrue.

two weeks of fog tumble out of prose [Dec. 28th, 2006|02:44 am]
Julia Seashell-eyes
[Current Location |at home in the hills]
[I hear |angels would fall]

all the time we were curled in the fleece of cinematic daydreams
my ribs purred beneath your fingers and off my lazy lips tumbled
i love you, but
i meant it
like that rocket ship girl believing in imaginary brothers
named Nathan, growing away

Love. semisynthetic opiate
beware the highs and lows

all week i trembled on the sofa, darting out of consciousness
"what are you thinking about?"
how do you know when i'm getting afraid
of what i might be afraid of?

finally I pipe up.
"I don't want to lose you."
you are silent. too wise to lie.
my fingers are warm. you hold them.

now i am alone, ready for the come down
two steps ahead of the avalanche
headed for solid ground

but still i would take any drug
i could have refills of
Link2 |Imbrue.

posterity [Dec. 11th, 2006|12:51 am]
Julia Seashell-eyes
I haven't posted in ages...no internet at home slows things up.

life is how I never thought it would be for me. full of amazing people and city adventures and pigtail-induced flirtations. I feel like it all clicked and I ended up sort of aligned with the ways that other people are, and it's rather pleasant.

I am listening to the summer music and remembering all of those drives along 22 West, heart pounding with the possibilities of the ocean, all those nights hitting the ramps and bottle harder and harder, over and over, no sign of fortress, a hundred sunsets. Summer and autumn follow from Spring, when I was hiding, when I was sad. Now I am wondering why I have to be sad sometimes, why if I can go months without crying now I had to do it every day then, and I don't know.

I am also wondering how next semester is going to be, if I can hold on to everything I've built these last months, and the answer is that I know I cannot, the work will be harder, library nights will be longer, the reintroduction of some and the loss of others will shift the sands of saturday night. But it will be alright.

I don't really feel like leaving here. I don't want to lose anyone. Already, I've lost track of so many. I think I just have a small town heart. I want promises and promises and promises that we will be together forever.

On Wednesday they are going to break my nose and I will go to Vicodin lala land. Which sounds sort of nice, except for the nose breaking part. Randall has been in that spot for a while now, sunburst eyed and dozing with an elevated foot. I have absconded his truck. I roam the city at will.

I think I will miss people over break, but it will be good. There are a lot of thoughts that have been born lately, and I haven't had time to let them grow. Too busy raging it.

Such as: You know when you love someone, you just know. But how do you know how you love them, or why? What is the difference between different kinds of love, is there one even? Maybe I'm not explaining this well. I don't know.

Back to finals. I'm not stressed. It will happen or it won't.
Link6 |Imbrue.

(no subject) [Nov. 7th, 2006|12:50 am]
Julia Seashell-eyes
[I am |quiet]
[I hear |Fischerspooner - Never WIn]

the question of the day is:
is the act of forgetting a moral judgment of sorts?

The rest of the day is filled up with oppressive rain. I love the rain, but this isn't Oregon rain. Someone told me it was a leftover monsoon from across the Pacific. I believe it...it is so warm.

Yesterday, Norah and I went to Bagby and soaked in the rain in the forest. I love it there. When I come back, I can always feel the electricity of the lights.

It seems like there should be far more to say. I want to write a poem. I started to write one earlier. I called it Small Town Murders, because I can't stop thinking tonight about all the people who died. Like Lacey. I don't know if it's macabre autumn thoughts, or just how I spread my traumas out across decades and never really freak out. I don't remember being so angry about it then. It just seemed like part of life, which I suppose it is. I can't imagine how different you'd have to think and feel from the way I do to strangle a twelve year old girl under a bridge.

Life is really good. I feel lucky a lot.
Link 1|Imbrue.

(no subject) [Oct. 28th, 2006|04:59 pm]
Julia Seashell-eyes
[I am |thankful]

suffice it to say that I have the best friends in the world

road trippin' with my two favorite allies... [Oct. 22nd, 2006|04:28 pm]
Julia Seashell-eyes
[I am |hazy]
[I hear |RHCP - Road Trippin']

The song fits perfectly. Snacks and supplies, including endless beer etc, the ocean, surfboards, chilling out in sunny California for a week.

I finally made it to Bolinas, which was as beautiful as I imagined. We slept in charming outbuildings and picked vegetables and Randall and Mickey knew everyone, of course, and we ate like kings. Surfed out at Palo Marin and chatted with some deer in love. Every night ended in the wood-fire hot tub beneath a surprising number of stars considering how close we were to the city. Spent one whole day driving Mt. Tamalpais, tires screaming around the corners, until we got to the top and skated and looked at the view. Remarked to myself how nice it was that Ben and Randall were such good drivers. The boys bombed some pretty intense sections on the way back down, but I am not as brave/skilled.

We drove through San Francisco and found huge waves at Ocean Beach. Randall broke his board in them, and I just tumbled along shore. Then we went to Berkeley and ate like kings some more, at Cater and Becky's house, the boys jammed beautifully with five instruments in the living room and we slept under the stars. We got up and drove down the 1 to Santa Cruz, where we surfed with the otters and met up with Ian, a friend of Randall's. We stayed with him at his house, which is a block from the beach at Pleasure Point, and he took us out to get wasted at an Anthony B show, and then to a secret spot the next day. The boys finally got their epic surf, and I got a tan and some epic tide pools. Ian left us each a perfect stone on the hood. I love how friends of friends so often feel instantly like friends.

We came home after going through Berkeley, and got just past Albany when we came up behind a traffic accident. We went from doing sixty to doing forty to doing a number on the back of a Mercedes driven by a nineteen year old girl. So now I have whiplash and maybe no car, or maybe a lot of parts bills, and Ben who was driving has a big ticket.

But we were all okay and all week I was in heaven just forgetting about email and cell phones and brushing my hair and I was loving tasting the ocean and smelling like the bay laurel trees we napped beneath and dancing hard and trying to catch waves and me and a Bolinas full of brother-figures and having good conversations beneath the stars and shooting the shit in the car and eating junk food all the time and falling asleep in the granary to the sound of the weathervane turning and singing songs and having my fears owing to all the drama leading up to the trip totally invalidated because really Randall is such a wonderful friend to me and maybe I focus on the bad too often with him, and now Ben is a friend too. We were some good little Musketeers. I miss it already.

Now, back to work. My extended thesis proposal I think will have to include a caveat about the number of painkillers I took while writing it. I think I've taken more than twenty since Friday night. Hopefully it will be vaguely coherent.
Link9 |Imbrue.

Desert glass. [Oct. 9th, 2006|12:09 am]
Julia Seashell-eyes
[I am |blessed]

naked reggae dance parties and
sunny days rolling down the river and
six foot tall tin foil giraffes and
grilled cheese sandwiches with Bronwen and
full moon singing at Vegetablestock and
being single is never boring...and
mid-morning bubble baths and
warm fuzzy TV study breaks and
dreaming of a bed of California stars...

It keeps occurring to me:
There is enough room in the world for everyone to be beautiful.

(no subject) [Oct. 2nd, 2006|04:59 pm]
Julia Seashell-eyes
A fun little family weekend, making wine and building a chicken tractor and eating at the Brew Pub and playing Pinochle and getting drunk on grappa when the cards didn't fall right. My family is pretty darn cute. The grapes are amazing---Pinot Noir coming in at 24 on the first day of October! I am jazzed for this year's wine.

I only wish that my mom wasn't so dead set on my making something of myself. Every time she says the words job or fellowship I start crying. I pretend that I have something in my eye. I have no desire to measure my success by whether or not I wear heels to work, and I don't know why she does. What could be better than what we have? Why is doing something that I love a waste of my intelligence?

I came back to Portland with probably fifty pounds of food from the garden. Harvest time is great, the very last breath of summer even though the air is turning cold. I am off to make dinner out of the garden fifty miles from home. It is problematic that I still pretty much only have one home. But as usual, all of my problems are charming ones. How blessed.
Link2 |Imbrue.

(no subject) [Sep. 26th, 2006|11:06 pm]
Julia Seashell-eyes
Any day could be the last day of sundress season, so I am milking it. Today; the red-flowered white graduation dress, espadrille-ey shoes, and a ribbon in my hair. I hardly thought about putting it all on but people reacted! in a way that was amazing to me. Can't forget the power of the aesthetic. Also, while I was at work a cute construction boy next door asked me out. So that makes three brand new boys this month. I forgot that it even could be like this.

Sophomore year everything glowed myself included, myself especially, and I thought that maybe it was all happenstance, all the co-op love and the co-op boys showing me how. And then last year was awful and I was awfuller and I thought that I must have been right, that sophomore year was a glorious exception to the rule.

But here are the rules:
wine grapes warm in the afternoon sun
library heart to hearts, and feeling like we fixed what we broke, finally, thank God
fresh tomatoes in everything savory
"threatening" Aden with a dungeon full of fire ants
slice and bake cookies and Vogue at girls night
Cupping Willy's big velvet nose in my hands and kissing her forehead
Drinking on the weekdays and turning in early on the weekends
Carving and waves--surfing and kayaking and driving home, I missed those roads

Things are ever-so-much charming.
Link4 |Imbrue.

the unexpected icing on the berry creme fraiche cake of my life [Sep. 8th, 2006|02:13 pm]
Julia Seashell-eyes
I stick out my tongue and he grabs it with his lips
wraps me up in arms and says

you are

so good

and I toss my fox-wild hair
grin and

believe it.
Link3 |Imbrue.

(no subject) [Sep. 5th, 2006|03:01 pm]
Julia Seashell-eyes
[I am |happy]
[I hear |How we do - Mount Sims]

another intense conversation and letting it fade with the sunlight
strip club hijinks with the girls+Brenin

climbing up and over a mountain pass
pasta primavera at 4,100 feet
a mountain bed, with stars

jumping out of bed and into East Twin Lake
lying naked on the rocks for ages

a hundred gallons of apples into twenty-five gallons of cider
lunch from the garden with friends
Horsegoat kitten puppy love
candlelight bubble bath

poetry, poetry

life is good.
Link 1|Imbrue.

cosmic [Aug. 31st, 2006|01:11 am]
Julia Seashell-eyes
Last night going home late we saw a man be dragged down the road and dropped in front of us. He was trashed and freaked out and wanted a ride, but we didn't want to be around him. He said, "people can be so cruel." I gave him two dollars and told him the bus would be by soon. I believed it...but today I realized the bus doesn't run much at 1:30 am.

Tonight after dinner at the Tao of Tea and good conversation about the diseased adolescent brain and confrontation, we were getting in the car when a cute boy tapped on the window. He asked us if we wanted a lamp, and when Mo said yes, asked if we had anything to trade for it. I gave him some peanuts, and he hugged me and walked off. We watched him and then realized that we had to chase him and make him our friend. He was flighty and fun. He is coming for dinner next week. His name is Ellgy.

While we were talking to Ellgy, this middle aged black man dance-sauntered over to us, chanting Rasta, man! He wanted money to go to Bumbershoot, and his eyes glowed with alcohol and joy and sorrow. He told us where to find good reggae and said something profound to Ellgy and we gave him two dollars. He saunter danced along, hugging us and wishing us peace and love in the rich djembe staccato of his voice.

the pure products of America are pouring out onto the sidewalks on Wednesday nights

they are sizzling electric colliding in the dark

bolts of lightning bringing new dimensions into common parlance

who will emerge next?
Link3 |Imbrue.

Lemon Cucumber Vodka Tonics and love [Aug. 28th, 2006|02:23 am]
Julia Seashell-eyes
[I am |luminous]
[I hear |Jack Johnson - Better Together]

it will be a good year.

maybe just maybe I am strong and I glisten.

I went to the mountains and was free. and I looked a bobcat in the eyes at short range. I picked almost a gallon of huckleberries. I floated naked for an hour in a newt-filled lake.

cooked all day today and fed the glowing-by-firelight world. we all cozied up in the backyard and everyone glows at the end of summer, bronze and sinewy and relaxed and rested. I just want to stay in today for the rest of the year. so I just will.

finding bits and pieces of courage I didn't know I had and mortgaging them for happiness lately. who knew the moral high ground was a place of such pleasure?

Last year I forgot how to believe that maybe just maybe I am strong and I glisten.

it will be a good year.
Link4 |Imbrue.

[ viewing | most recent entries ]
[ go | earlier ]