she told me that she
always wanted to stay up in her head
because
that's where all
the
good
memories
were.



growing up,
i was always told
to wipe my feet
when coming
into the house....
but i always
felt
that if i didn't
leave a muddy
footprint or two,
my mother would
never even know
i
had
ever
been
there.




my rearview mirror
has a sticker on it
that says
objects appear closer
than they really are.....

i find that to be true
except when it comes
to people...

for
they are usually much
farther away
than they appear
and i can't seem to find a rearview mirror
that will make them
come
any
closer.



i met a man and his mustache.....

his take on the world
through the viewfinder.

embracing life
and people
passionately and compassionately.

patrick



this is
how to
do
being.

because,

there
is beauty
in this magical house.
and

there
is magic
in the beautiful woman
who owns this house.....

this
house
on ocracoke island.

be



ten things that will happen while i am away:

1. i will not say the following words: routine, mandatory, scheduled, or necessary
2. i will not hear a xylophone alarm at 6:30 am or any other time of the day or night
3. i will say that i am well when asked how i am and i will really mean it
4. i will forget what day of the week it is as well as the current month and year
5. i will not experience the following emotions: frustration, impatience, shame or intolerance
6. i will allow myself to take a nap if i am tired
7. i will look up.....often
8. i will feel the power of the earth beneath my feet and the ocean before me
9. when the sun rises, i will be there to watch it
10. i will remember this time always

be well.
see you in a couple of weeks.
ox



dear raspberries,

thank you for being made so perfectly for
each of my fingertips.
you taste even better
when
i can pop you right into my mouth
off of each of my fingers......
one
by
one.

love,
dawn



if i could be any place at all,
i would want to be a windowsill.

but,
i'd only want to be a windowsill if the sun shone on me.

and,
i'd only want the sun to shine on me if i was adorned with flowers in small glass jars.

but,
i'd only want flowers in small glass jars to adorn me if they were wildflowers picked by little children's hands.

and,
i'd only want those wildflowers picked by little children's hands if they gave me a big hug to go along with them.

i'm not picky though....
because
any big hug from little children's hands will be fine by me.



flowers never require a leap of faith
to bloom,

no arm twisting.....
to charm

they just bloom...
they shine,
they are.



there are parts to every person
that are more tended to
than
others....
parts that are caged,
parts that roam free,
parts that are in the light
and parts that are in the shadows.
sometimes they fight with one another,
sometimes they are harmonious.

i'm not sure these parts make up a
whole or that they are even meant
to....
because the imperfection of parts...
tended to and not....
these fragmented parts,
are our essential nature.
i think we are always incomplete.

to be whole,
means being unbroken,
being perfect...
something i know
i will never achieve.



from memory
from metaphor
from faith
from sorrow
from time
from seasons
from song
from prayer
from ashes
from hope
from grandmothers
from love
from butterflies
from dreams
from struggle
from growth
from laughter

i am.



it happens every year.
usually during the crappiest of all crappy winter days.....

they arrive.

the spring colors.

suddenly, the stores are full of
the perkiest of pinks,
the grassiest of greens,
the mints,
the salmons,
a perfect plethora of pantone prospects adorning every rack.

what do i do?

i fall in love.
and i buy....
i buy in a big way.

and then i put them in my closet
where they wait for warmer weather to arrive....
full of the prospects of sunshiney days and spring in my steps.
until i look at them and wonder......

why, pray tell, do i do this to myself?
because these colors were not meant for me
oh no......
on me?
the greens are ghastly.
the pinks look perfectly putrid....
the salmons......sickly.

i must learn to curtail my color conventions.

i vow not to pine for purple pants.