when you read: listen to Juliet's Dream by Abel Korzeniowski. "Love is like dried flowers sometimes. Even though you watch the petals shrink and change colour, you cannot help treasuring them." ~ Munia Khan, author of 'Beyond The Vernal Mind,' 'To Evince The Blue,' and 'Versified.' Today is the first day of Lent, and I am already at a loss. I am thinking about all the things I have lost, and I am thinking about all the things I am ready to lose, and I am thinking about love.

I have always loved shoes. Little miss shoes. That's what my great grandfather used to call me. I would wear those little, red sparkles all the way to Oz and back---as if they were my wonderland-staple. But that was when I was five, and now, fifteen years later, I am sorting through my wardrobe with the interest to see which shoes have been---and remain---my choice for any occasions. I'm sure we all have preferences, but I know I've learned that football cleats don't necessar

I’m twenty days late for a New Years’ post, but rereading old resolutions has led me to believe reflection comes in two waves, crashing over and over again. When I was a little girl, I lived on the other side of the world by the beach. There, my father used to take me surfing on special occasions. You’ve got to ride the right wave otherwise you end up upside-down underneath the surface with salt water in mouth and mind. but if the wave is not strong enough, then the board wil

It is wonderful to sit before you. I wish you a beautiful good-morning, good-evening, good-afternoon. It's that in-between, dusky-rainy kind of day outside. I just woke up so i'm finishing my coffee as I write at my desk. someday, i'll show you, if you'd like to see? for now, i'll just say that this desk is the most inspiringdistracting place to study, especially in the morning. Look up. See all the postcards & old photographs, quotes & fairy lights, ticket stubs from orchest