Desiderata

This morning as I was missing Shane really hard, I stumbled upon these images. They are by a Korean artist whose aim is to depict real love. I have to say--it's some of the most real and familiar imagery about love I've ever seen. The series is called "Love is" by Puuuung. Original source and artist page .

The day before yesterday. Not yesterday but the one before that. Let's just call it: the other, other day. So, the other, other day I went to Venice Beach by myself-- a solitary ritual I enjoy on the rare weekend when I have no plans. Shawnee picked me up from my house and drove me to Venice before she went to work. We grabbed some delicious smoothies and parted ways--she to her job and me to the beach. I walked lazily through the bustling crowds of miscreants and tourists that populate the boardwalk. I noticed a fry cart selling what appeared to be traditional Belgian style fries in paper cones (served with mayonnaise just the way I love them), but I simply shrugged and smiled and resisted the temptation. I sipped on my smoothie and continued on toward the water. I sat down, realizing I'd forgotten a towel, but it didn't seem to matter. Life felt right. I felt content; I was where I was meant to be. I reached into my leather bag and, with some difficulty, pul

Just stumbled upon Liz Gilbert's recent post about travel. I'm re-posting it here as a reminder to myself that even though I'm EXHAUSTED, poor and unsettled: it's WORTH IT. ______________________________________________ QUESTION OF THE DAY: Why do we travel? Dear Ones - This is what jet-lag looks like on me, at 3am. This is what my poor innocent bathroom mirror had to look at this morning, in the cruel, cruel pre-dawn hours. Niiiiiiiiiccccceeeee. I just got home from a three-week trip to Greece and Turkey, and at 3:00 this morning, jet-lagged and ragged as all hell, I pondered once more (under the harsh bathroom lights) this old question: WHY DO WE TRAVEL? Because let's be honest, you guys. Traveling is expensive, inconvenient, tiring, time-consuming and sometimes — like all interesting things (sex and creativity, for instance) — it's even boring. You don't speak the language, you don't recognize the food, the toilets are co

Read this today and it really resonated: I feel it’s something that is always there, something you’re born with that gets lost along the way, or stolen by others. Sometimes you have to dig deep to find it again. ~Amy Lee Tempest "You didn’t come out of the womb unsure of your cry or insecure about your large umbilical cord. You came out blissfully unaware of external judgment, concerned only with your own experience and needs. I’m not suggesting that you should be oblivious to other people. It’s just that it may help to remember confidence was your original nature before time started chiseling away at it. Once you developed a sense of self-awareness, you started forming doubts and insecurities about how other people saw you. You learned to crave praise and avoid criticism, and maybe you started getting down on yourself if you got more of the latter than the former. When you start feeling unsure of yourself remember: we were all born with confidence, and we can al

I haven't written stream of consicous-style in so long. I wonder what will come of it. I remember when I was in college I was told to just keep writing. I was even told to just keep typing no matter the typos I was making. I am not necessarily doing that but I am continuously writing. She even told us to keep writing even if all we were writing about was the fact that we are writing. It seems like a silly practice but I actually think it helps. It helps dust the cobwebs that stick on our mind and clogs up our fingers; or more like, helps us shake away the self-consciousness that plagues our creativity. That was like almost a half-way decent sentence. I am sitting here today at work and it is a lovely grey day. I am listening to Van Morisson's Moondance and he just said "neath the cover of October skies" which reminds me of exactly this moment. Even though it's July. I wish it were October. I am going to get started on my Halloween costume pretty soon. Working w

If I wrote a poem; A poem about anything Would it say something? About me or my thoughts? Would it be a thing, Where people would read it And think, I know. I know what she thinks. I think she knows What she means. I know what you mean, I think. -Diana McNeill, 2015 Image via wit and delight

Once we believe in ourselves, we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight, or any experience that reveals the human spirit. – E.E. Cummings

I just stumbled across this old horoscope (from a couple of weeks ago). The general themes still apply (of course). Pour yourself another cold brew, Capricorn. Done and done. Probably over-caffeinating myself at this point.  This week could find you in a sleepy groove, but not without reason. Tuesday’s full moon in your 12th house of completions is sounding the call for a cleanup mission. Is your space a disgrace? Probably not since you tend to be organized. Well actually, it is a disgrace. And yes I am organized, but my room has clothes all over the place. I've been so busy and doing way too many things, as usual. Also: I have too much stuff!  But, you probably feel overloaded: too much stuff, OMG I literally just said that!   too many commitments and responsibilities you’re only halfway passionate about.  Talk about reading my mind... Hew the excess from your calendar and you’ll feel instantly refreshed. Instead of refilling the white space that creates, leave some open ti