:: she lifts her skirt up to her knees. walks through the garden rows with her bare feet. laughing

{polaroid 600 image of my garden. taken june 4, 2011}




i'm considering the echoing bird song.
the wave-like rush of tree leaves.
tree branches.
the low buzz of fly.
and bee.
the silky embrace of the breeze.
the comfort of the wind's whisper.
the lush blanket of grass blades between my toes.
the hot blush of sun on skin.

i'm savoring my little eden.
the beauty.
glory.
majesty.

of being outdoors.

:: i am. i am, i am.

{via weheartit}

perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything,
it is because we are dangerously close to wanting nothing.

- sylvia plath

on a sylvia kick.
oh! what we have to gain from her tortured insights.

she was a gift to the written word.
the mind.
and the soul.

: working it all out. in poem.

take a sip
take a good long sip
before the river runs to drip

before the balance
of the rib cage and the rigamortis
sets in

walk this wire
walk this thin fine wire
until you've captivated each desire
in a mason jar

until you've mastered
the art of breath and death

the living
and the dead

tip-toe tall
and proud
love your children
brand the sound

run the line

but don't look down

____________________________________________________________________

sometimes my job reminds me of the beauty of life. and of living.
and sometimes it reminds of the fragility.
that we're all accidents waiting to happen.
but that we can never live like we are.

this poem was the result of a night spent remembering the latter.

soggy animal crackers:::

i've been reading a collection of essays titled: "Alone in the Kitchen with an Eggplant". the whole premise of the book is to uncover people's thoughts, feelings and habits regarding eating alone. as a single gal, i find myself faced with this situation often, but it never disturbs me-- as it does some. and i was inspired by the reading to collect my own thoughts on the subject. and so... here you have it.

______________________________________________________________________

Soggy Animal Crackers

the first year after high school, I participated in a traveling theater program, and lived on the training campus in a purple cinder-block dorm room. it was there that i developed the behavior known as "eating alone". it began out of sheer necessity-- (when week old bbq chicken sandwiches and blackened tomato soup were the only daily menu options, i quickly learned the art of tactful declination.) often starving well into the night, my roommate and i would regularly hole up in our purple sanctuary and snack on the fresh berries + iced tea our mothers purchased for our cubicle refrigerator. it was refreshing, but i wasn't always satisfied. on those nights, i'd wait until everyone had fallen asleep, then i'd sneak down the long, abandoned hallway to the kitchen-- and i'd relish in the witching hour, and in the silence.

out of desperation one evening, i emptied the remaining contents of an industrial-sized bag of animal crackers into a cereal bowl, and covered each little character with milk. I crawled up onto the counter, and sat crossed-legged next to the sink, crunching each animal between my teeth. every so often, i'd bite into a cracker that had absorbed the milk, and it would be buttery + soft. i found i enjoyed these mouthfuls the best-- so i began making it my ritual to break each cracker down the center before placing it into my bowl-- therefore insuring it reached its highest potential of sogginess. this practice became religious.

my near-nightly bowl of virtual mush became a healing ritual. a time to feed my deprived body, as well as my broken spirit. during a period of unknown, transition, and discontentment-- i was able to brush shoulders with peace in that empty kitchen, and in the vacant lounge where i would sometimes wander with my unconventional sustenance.

when i returned home, i couldn't shake the habit-- my addiction to a solo meal, eaten under moonbeams, while absorbing a symphony of night sounds. i found i couldn't sleep if i didn't tiptoe into my childhood kitchen, and pilfer a box of cereal, bowl + spoon, and cup of milk to steal away to my room. these things were comfort. they were medicine.

i was eventually able to "kick the junk", if you will, and return to normal, healthy eating habits-- but my love and appreciation for eating alone had become an integral aspect of my person. i have such respect for the art of it. for the adventure of it. there is no obligation. no expectation. you spend your time thinking, instead of listening. masticating, instead of conversating. you can choose to focus on the world- or be completely and utterly enthralled with nothing but yourself. the stillness is daunting for some. the stigma is unthinkable for others. but i have found solace dining with myself. i've even taken my little venture out into the public. it's not at all foreign to find me contentedly eating a meal alone at a local restaurant. perhaps reading the paper. perhaps not. but always sipping a cup of coffee. and always taking it all in.

i am a self-proclaimed "people person". i love characters. and laughter. and gatherings. and long talks. but i also have equal amounts of passion for silence. and my meals alone bring me to this quiet place. i enjoy finding the proper balance of alone and loneliness. i love the freedom to escape. i love the simplicity of one. and the obligation of none.

but mostly, i just really really love eating soggy animal crackers.

by myself.

::: finds & treasures

i am currently addicted to my 5-year diary::: i absolutely adore the format. with only enough space to write a few sentences for each day, it's not overwhelming---and i actually look forward to thinking about ways to cram my entire day into a few meaningful lines. i also love that, over the years, you will begin writing beneath the old passages. providing a constant reminder of what you've done & where you've been. things that are oh-so-easy to forget.


i am STILL obsessing over the amazing food we discovered at the little french cafe in cleveland. we were so close to giving up the hunt for a local treasure and settling for IHOP when we came across this little hole-in-the-wall delight. smack-dab in the middle of a neighborhood, this unassuming little place had some of the best food. period. i mean--homemade chocolate in my cafe mocha? chicken cheddar mango chutney crepes? local granola atop fresh fruit and organic yogurt? can i go back? please? pretty please?


i also HAD to share my newest youtube find:: thank God for creative people to keep my brain stimulated and my mind inspired:

(via {A})

:: and so it begins...

{via d*s}

well. i 've gone and done it.

i have started work on a book.

writing a book has been something i have wanted to do for a long, long time. If the big world of journalism wasn't so touch-and-go, and competitive, i would've jumped at the chance to pursue it as my main source of income. however, logic broke in at some point and i decided to get a job that would keep me busy, supported and still allow me time to chase after my dream of one day writing a book. or perhaps a magazine column.

i got inspired the other morning when i couldn't sleep. i picked up my current read (see sidebar!), successfully finished a few chapters, and thought to myself:

"i can do this! i can be funny and write about the ridiculous things that have happened to me. i am nothing if not one L-O-N-G story. i can really do this!"

that was all it took. one tiny AHA! moment. one second of inspiration. and i've been writing for about two solid days now. i'm organizing my book into short stories. the craziness is best broken down-- bit by bit. but it's also accessible to me that way. i've always been afraid of the "chapter book":: one cohesive story that keeps people interested, yet isn't too confusing. i am much better at one rip-roaring hilarious short vignette at a time.

it feels amazing to get things down on paper. to sit back and actually laugh at my own work. to feel accomplished in a small way.

i can't wait to print off the starter pages and share them with a few friends. get some honest feedback. gauge a few reactions.

i'm in this now. hold on for the ride!


p.s:: cutest. thing. ever.

: safe

when there is nothing else to do- you keep on trying harder.
in little ways. that probably don't make a difference. you fight.
you listen and you assess again and again.
hoping for a change. hoping to see the situation through a new lens.
when the only thing you can do is let go- you hold on.

you hold on.

till your fingers get slick from the heat of the battle.
and you slowly loose your grip.
and then you claw. and you grapple. you never give up.

and when you finally walk away. you leave yourself behind.
and you hide it. pretend its all okay.
because it has to be. there is no other way.
and it's not until you come back that you realize:::

you haven't let go.
after all this time. you're still holding on.
because this is safe.

this is safe.



** 5th midnight shift in a row tonight. i am so wore out. but it's onto seven beautiful, glorious days off. and so many updates. so many details to document. it will be wonderful to be back in my daily grind.

::: a plane ticket to anywhere

i've mentioned in several posts that i have recently been inspired by marta's: write club. i've actually been shocked by how much flows from the pen when you have a little nudging and prodding. within no time you're writing something entirely off the topic and original. which i'm pretty sure is the point :)
below i've shared what came to me when i read the prompt:

"you have a plane ticket to anywhere"

i had so many initial thoughts. but i didn't focus on anything particular. i just wrote. here it goes::

a plane ticket to anywhere:

in one hand i hold a plane ticket. in the other- a list of places to go. my eyes want to see the world. my feet want to feel the roads of every nation. my skin wants to absorb the sun from every side of the globe. i often dream of paris. and ireland. and italy. and madrid. i fantasize about hawaiian beaches. and the taj mahal. and big ben. but today, i will board a plane to new york city, because i don't want an adventure. i just want comfort.

in the grand spectrum, i have been very few places in my life. so to say i already know my favorite would be a gross disservice to myself. however, i can say with confidence that i adore new york city. my trip there on august 11, 2001 (exactly one month prior to the 9/11 tragedy) was the first real adventure of my life. you never know what to expect when you're going to a brand new place. and while i was unsure of what i would find there, i was thrilled to have the opportunity to see this famous city. my friends and i stayed with a contact on staten island-- so we had to take the train to the ferry dock, and then, the ferry to the mainland. once the ferry was anchored, we exited the boat and went immediately underground to the subway station. i road with anticipation::: our destination was times square. as i climbed the stairs out of the underground mayhem and into the city, i could feel the energy building. when the sunlight hit my face, i squinted, and then::: the whole city came into view. huge billboards a block long. flashing lights. 1,000's of people. bright yellow taxis. a man with a garbage bag full of knock-off sunglasses. the smell of hotdogs and hot almonds. a thin cloud of sewer steam drifting at my feet. i was snapping pictures as fast as my little disposable camera could wind. it was an instant connection. i fit here.

i returned to new york many times after that. in summer. in winter at christmas time. in the fall. each time discovering a different side of the city that i loved. seeing something i hadn't seen in previous visits. re-acquainting myself with old haunts.
and it is here that i return with my plane ticket. i'll stay three nights, maybe. contact annie at that awesome bed & coffee in the east village. see if she has a room to spare. buy a metro pass. i'll wake up in the morning and escape to the buzzing streets. stopping for a croissant and cup of joe. walking slow. watching. observing. taking pictures. taking it all in. there won't be any agenda. just me and my city and whatever it wants to bring me. a trip to central park, perhaps. there's always an empty bench there, and i always have a book to read. maybe i'll go to the metropolitan museum of art. or the guggenheim. or the immaculate public library. i can sneak into a small theater. catch an indie film. buy lunch from the street vendors. ogle in the window at tiffany's. i could walk the blocks until i find the cathedral i love. the one where i always enter and light a candle. dropping all my loose change into the gold canister that sits by the tiny flames. when dinner rolls around, i can head back to alphabet city. eat at a hole-in-the-wall ethnic restaurant. something middle eastern. or indian. sitting at a small, unsteady table outside. letting the breeze blow the edge of the napkin that's tucked under my plate. i can end the evening wandering till i find a live band. and i can sit and listen till the wee hours- when i return again to my little room at annie's to rest up for the next day.

nyc is no longer about adventure for me. it's about being in a place that both calms and energizes you. it's about taking in new people. new places. new things. and continuing to love the old ones. it's learning to slow down, even when everything around you is so fast paced. it's about feeling alive. and more importantly::: living.

: ink on my fingers

I don't usually need to actively seek out inspiration. When I see something that strikes me, it hits hard, and all my ideas and passions just come pouring out.

I have many interests. many things that i enjoy. even a couple i think i'm kind of okay at.
But my two biggest, most unwavering interests are ::: writing and photography.
Since I was very young, each of these things have been both intriguing and important to me.

So you can imagine my excitement when I happened upon the wonderful work of photographer: Susannah Conway yesterday. To start, I began reading her blog: INK ON MY FINGERS. and I kept reading. and reading. going through old posts. staring at her photographs. taking it all in.
Her work is so real. so tangible. she shines brilliantly through her writings and pictures. which is something I know we all strive for.

I then made my way over to her Etsy shop. An Etsy visit in general is usually a bad idea for me, because the session usually ends with me logging into PayPal in order to purchase all the items in my cart. But I couldn't help myself, I HAD to see what this gal was offering. Of course, none of her prints disappointed, and I am anxiously awaiting payday so I can collect a few.
Here are some of my favorites::

As I was about to close up the laptop for the evening, I saw a link on her blog that said:

"Unravelling: e-course".

"E-course?" I wondered. I had to investigate.

I was pleasantly surprised to learn that Conway is offering an online class beginning in July. Tuition for the course includes access to an exclusive blog and flicker page, on which weekly photo/writing assignments will be given and shared. Some communication and teaching will be done through video blogs, and the rest via posts. The class runs for 8 weeks, and I can't think of a better way to stay motivated and inspired this summer. I love that Conway encourages anyone to sign-up, and really promotes the course as an intense self-portrait::: a discovery of yourself. It's not about learning techniques and lingo:: it's discovering your own style and abilities. feeding our own unique creativity.
I only hope I log in fast enough once registration opens, because I am sure the course fills up fast.

I encourage you to find something that gets you motivated. reflect on the things that interest you. make you happy. think about your go-to pick-me-ups. evaluate your goals and passions.

find something that speaks to you. and then, listen.

you won't be sorry you did.