landscapes {of the human heart}

home.  mississippi delta.

how to put into words the things, the people, the places that pump the heart-blood?
how to make those symbols go down easy,
hit hard,
lift up?
how to lay it bare without thoughts of rejection and judgment and ridicule?
how not to be afraid?

how to bring to light the complexities of an honest landscape full of
brokenness, bitterness, resilience, rebirth?
how to authentically connect in a world with evermore prevalent themes of
disingenuousness and false intimacy?

how to capture the beauty and decay,
the rawness and truth,
the hope and fallibility?

of the landscapes {of the human heart}.

the undisciplined tongue


sentiment without action is the ruin of the soul

mount evans. colorado. 14,265′.

a precious {nonrenewable} resource,
a baffling {social + global} construct,
perhaps the thing we waste the most of {and that’s saying a lot}.

and what exactly are we allowing to cannibalize it?

{something that’s always fascinated me + one of the things meditation brings to mind time and again.}

how can mere minutes seem sooo impossibly rich while meditating but sooo utterly brief whilst {fill in the blank}. and why do we have to honor 60 minutes in an hour + 24 hours in a day anyway? {but that’s a whole other can of worms.}

the average person will spend approximately 2 years of their brief + beautiful life on facebook.

the average american preschooler {!} lazes away approximately 4.5 hours in front of a screen. every. day. {40% of their waking hours btw.}

commuters in the u.s. will spend approximately 42-82 hours in traffic every year + lose roughly $1,400 idling away gas.

{idle hands are the devil’s workshop is another thing my mamaw used to say. but i digress?}

what’s cannibalizing MY time?

the watching of mindless television {read: hbo + netflix on my laptop}. the fruitless surveillancing of friends, family, and strangers on social media platforms. maintaining + carefully curating my own digital doppelgänger’s digital image. waiting in lines + sitting at stop lights + running errands + sleeping in + overanalyzing + venting {read: complaining}. the list goes on.

how to rectify the situation?

get up earlier + meditate + read + write + bike + walk + hike + listen to records {and podcasts} + rendezvous with friends + practice kindness + go to live music + eat + drink + be merry + repeat. the list goes on.

but most importantly: be aware {of what is in direct competition with the present moment} + eradicate it.

what’s cannibalizing YOUR time?

sentiment without action is the ruin of the soul. -edward abbey

the undisciplined tongue


p.s. roughly 300 words down, approximately 1,300 to go.


enter the 30 day challenge

home.  mississippi delta.

something i could probably use more of in my life.
{a freewheeling spirit is not without consequences.}

sure, i’ve made countless new year’s resolutions {most of which i kept for no considerable amount of time}, i’ve faithfully honored the season of lent since my old episcopal high school days roughly 20 years ago {yikes!}, and like most fun-loving humans, i’ve given up alcohol here and there for a month or two in order to cleanse my mind and liver.  but tomorrow i embark on a threefold 30 day challenge (inspired by this ted talk) which i hope will become a new often-daunting-yet-always-rewarding habit for the foreseeable future.

1. sunrise meditation each morning.  {because obviously.}
2. write 1,500-1,700 words a day.  {because i want to write a book and according to NaNoWriMo, if you write 1,667 words a day, every day, for thirty days straight, you’ll end up with a 50,000 word book.}  egads!
3. turn every judgment + assumption + negative thought into a positive—all day, every day.  {because this will undoubtedly be the most challenging and potentially the most beneficial.}

results to follow.  probably would’ve been ideal to start with just one challenge, but since i’ve already got about 40 more in the queue, why not be overambitious?  the road to hell is paved with good intentions.  my mamaw always said so.

here goes…

the undisciplined tongue


today could be the beginning…

denver. colorado.

…of anything you want.

did you know dr. seuss was rejected 27 times before his first book was published?  that sharon jones had a whole host of dead-end jobs before releasing her first album at the ripe, round age of 40?  i do.  in fact, i keep inspirations like these handy to remind myself that every day, every moment is an opportunity to grow your life, change its course, become who you want to be, and never be pigeonholed.

i’ve always known myself to be a dabbler—an apprentice of many, an expert of none.  i’ve been a ski tech, librarian, student, teacher, nanny.  a daughter, sister, aunt, friend.  i’ve been a photographer, gardener, artist, and (lately) freelance writer.  and for those of us who thrive on awakening, it’s oh-so comforting to know that there is truly no end to the fluid and infinite nature of this exquisite life.

sylvia plath’s fig tree story used to haunt me.  at many points i could identify with it so deeply that it was terrifying, but today it seems to carry a whole new, promising weight.

we don’t have to choose just one wonderful future.  we’re creatively and expertly designed to be capable of a multitude of true and great things.

bukowski scratches the sentiment out quite precisely:

“invent yourself and then reinvent yourself,
don’t swim in the same slough.
invent yourself and then reinvent yourself
stay out of the clutches of mediocrity.

invent yourself and then reinvent yourself,
change tone and shape so often that they can
categorize you.”

-charles bukowki, no leaders, please

amen, brother.

the undisciplined tongue


in other words // sweet solitude

home. mississippi delta.

“when i stood alone on the gentle swell of the prairies in my youth and felt the sting or caress of the wind and held my head to the skies and breathed the hope of the blue and white and gold of the freedom above the horizon i was less alone than i have ever been.”
-clyfford still, 1956

the undisciplined tongue


everything flows // age of aquarius


home.  mississippi delta.

“sometimes i go about pitying myself, and all the while i am being carried on great winds across the sky.” -the lakota sioux

amidst the afterglow of the holidays and the promise of my january birthday, i spend a lot of time ruminating.  and gallivanting.  ruminating and gallivanting – both inside and out.  taking stock of the preceding year and dreaming of what’s to come.  letting myself (and my mind) wander but always relishing the ever-present moment.

as an aquarius (and a proper human),  i’ve always been obsessed with movement.  everything flowing.  everything morphing, changing.  it’s what keeps up alive. it’s in our nature.  primal.

maybe it’s the eagle medicine card, maybe it’s the wolf moon, or maybe it’s pure self-delusion.  but i have a certain unexplained excitement about what’s in store for me in 2017, and i’m fully prepared to embrace it all.

may the next rotation be filled with beauty and growth and kindness.  with handwritten letters and handshaken cocktails.  and may i continue to deepen my connection to the Divine, the earth, and all the beautiful souls who roam its surface.

the undisciplined tongue




walking among giants

IMG_3012 - Version 2
mt. elbert, 14,440′. colorado.

we walk amongst the giants,
that we may never lose sight of our relative importance.

the undisciplined tongue

untainted by man

there is no adequate way to describe what it feels like to summit.  to push yourself harder than you think possible.  to see the world from a place most never will.  to drink in air untainted by man.  to hear total and utter silence.  ah, yes, words are inadequate.


that’s one fortunate little marmot.

puts things in perspective.






tiny speck of hot pink humanity resummiting mt. belford.



the mystery of the summit ladybugs.








mt. belford, 14, 203′ and mt. oxford, 14,160′.  11 miles and 5,800′ of elevation gain.

because not to would be a crime.

the undisciplined tongue


the edge

home.  mississippi delta.

the line,
the tightrope,
the razor’s edge.

whatever you call it,
we’re all walking it.

hopefulness and the absurd,
confidence and arrogance,
compassion and self-righteousness,

freedom and the ego,
awareness and judgment.

most of the time
i can’t even tell
which side
i’m on.

or if there are
even sides?
or lines?

and if it is

to know?

do we lose
in striving?


the undisciplined tongue