I love you, my hope
November. 24. 2011
Purple sunset on a crisp evening walk with a friend today- unaltered I swear!
Friends often question my exuberance, asking me what makes me a happy person and I struggle to articulate that happiness is a spontaneous state of being. The list of reasons I rattle off when questioned begins with having breath and consciousness, but inevitably ends with the love I find everywhere.
I remember walking to my student job, tired and beat on an ordinary Louisiana afternoon beaming in the bliss of just being there, then. I remember tearing up in waking meditation simply feeling “So much joy! So much love!” That is the ecstasy of being- what is joy but synchronicity with existence and its magnificent flood? Even when it’s bad, it’s good- it’s all good. Happiness is a state of mind, I choose to exist in joy through and through the shit. And the love I have for and get from my family and friends, helps me shine on- they are my hope.
This Thanksgiving I am evermore grateful for you beautiful people who keep my life whole. Forget the miles between us, I feel the sweetness in you. I love you, my hope- Happy Thanksgiving!
reflection
May. 20. 2011
still can’t get over the show…what a gorgeous walk in the clouds
scattering
May. 20. 2011
the laws of physics at play….live from my “chair in the sky!”
dispersion
May. 20. 2011
i still can’t believe we can fly in the sky
fluid mechanics
May. 20. 2011
leaving storm clouds behind, flying west at dusk…like flying through a series of the wildest brushstrokes-
add the bonus of bonding with 26D and 26E, and you have one helluva trip-
thanks matt and seth for stellar in-flight shenanigans!
home
September. 7. 2010
all journeys begin at home….before you start chasing the light
swimming to the sun
May. 4. 2010
…it’s a good way to go
I took this solitary beach trip to Goa a few years ago, and it was so quiet and empty and all you heard was the waves because the tourists hadn’t come in yet. I just needed the stretch, and it helped to go be a beach bum no matter how shady travel is when alone and female in the motherland.
I never swam the whole trip, but I thought about it
the day wasn’t orange- rather blue, in fact
but its memory still is
“swimming to the sun…” a friend once penned off, referring to Corbusier’s death and summing up my dreaming
and I, unaware of that story was so mesmerized by the sensuous image this little phrase conjured up in my head that even now when I know what he really meant, (and that knowledge changes everything), the visuals remain untarnished and refuse to stop flowing
Resonance.
If you know what I mean
as for this picture, I always thought that was two friends growing old together on the shore. Don’t care if it wasn’t.
some days
March. 20. 2010
never set
anywhere
