i watch this every year and encourage you to do the same. watch it with your children. feel the pain we all felt that day. remember those who were lost. remember the feeling of coming together. remember how proud we felt to be americans. to be resilient. to be free. god bless the souls of the men and women who perished on that fateful day. god bless the brave troops who fought and still fight to defend this great nation. god bless the united states of america.
she was smart… she was funny… and she was a fellow believer in copious amount of mascara. the level of my sadness at the passing of joan rivers has taken me by surprise.
“imagination is the only weapon in the war against reality.” .lewis carroll (alice in wonderland)
Elton John: 1970
Gifted to me by Kevin Wortman
Acquired in 2014 on the corner of Haight and Ashbury
my mister bought me this pretty book while we were antiquing in st. johnsbury, vermont. we stumbled into a mom and pop bookstore (my favorite kind) and spent some time browsing the tiny literary haven. i instantly fell head over heels for the velvety cover.
she cried. tears pooling in the wrinkles at the corner of her eyes; begging me to help her. sneak her out when the nurses turned their backs. feeling like she was falling, she clutched and clawed at the bed.
i feel that old, familiar, sinking feeling rise up through my veins, slowly taking over my nervous system and drowning any trace of my true self.
i feel an intense yearning to be outside lately. i need to feel sand in my toes, wind in my hair, and dirt between my fingers. at the end of the day i want to be exhausted, sweaty, and dirty.
“beyond just writing about falling in love and out of love and wanting to do certain things and going out and partying and all the things that i grew up writing about, i want to write about deeper things.” .joan jett
like the paper thin skin of her hands, my grandmother’s eyes are almost transparent. i watch as they frantically dart around the room, desperate to focus and meet my gaze. they are pleading; begging me to understand a lifetime of tiny memories, of regrets, of little vignettes frozen in time.