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the hunger

fierce is the longing for my home place, an intangible ache marrow-deep. shaped by her fields and her bayous, her mysteries and misfits and beasts. borne of her soil, married to her seasons, my rhythms shift and change in her absence. her likeness haunts me, ablaze in the kaleidoscope of colors at sundown or the song…

freedom

i’ve always marveled at birds on a wire. envious how they float just above this rational world. do they mourn our cluttered lives? are they saddened by our cages? outraged at our tail-chasing? the undisciplined tongue birdsblogcoloradodenverfreedommile high citynaturephotographypoetrytruthwomenwriting

light in the heart

do i alone dream of being luminous? vibrant and tender and open to the richest depths. with no purpose save for radiating beauty and a quiet, effortless grace that offers a brief respite from the crowded mess. unearthing things and unfolding them softly into the world. the undiscovered regions and the hopes and fears that petrify. no…

revolt. do something. anything. real.

we’ve been bamboozled. we’re being controlled by a bunch of greedy suits and the electronic idols they dangle in front of us. it’s preposterous. we spend twelve hours a day with media.  twelve.  that’s half of our daily allotment of life.  not to mention that we’re subjected to over 5,000 ads and brand names during…

in other words // roots

“are we misled by the fact that we move freely on the earth and are not rooted to it in the same way as trees to the ground or fingers to the hand?” -alan watts, cloud-hidden, whereabouts unknown the undisciplined tongue alan wattsblogfreedommississippiphotographyquotestravelwomen

back on top

because there’s something so satisfying about knowing you’ve reached the highest point. of anything. the undisciplined tongue adventureblogcoloradoloveLowamountainsnatureoutdoorstravelwomen

colorado love affair

  i have a requited love for colorado.  i belong here.  i feel like i’ve lived thousands of years and thousands of lives here. and that’s not true of every place i’ve called home.  i knew some were temporal. but not this one. on any given day, i can open any one of my maps,…

in other words // art

“a work of art must be done with the heart.  a sort of love affair between artist and reader—it is more than an expression of consciousness.  it is dawn expressed—and expressed with such sweetness and understanding, that it finds the other’s heart—and makes a dawn in it too.” -kahlil gibran, beloved prophet artblogcoloradodenverkahlil gibrantruthwomen

because of bukowski

i got mad at a man in a wheelchair today. and i was everything i despise, and everything i never want anyone else to see. dark side out. it’s there, and i walk with it some times. do you? it’s all any of us wants isn’t it?  to know we’re not alone? to have a…

the beginning

as i roam the streets in my walking meditations, it is abundantly clear that people are generally unhappy.  most do not smile or even nod their heads.  most, in fact, avert their eyes.  or look indifferent.  or numb.  or frightened. “please, someone save us from this place,” they mutter.  forgetting that they are this place.…