swell. the homograph stirs in my smile and splashes the morning boards. swell. hair in my glasses somewhere between santa monica and venice. the carefree. the calm. rippled in a silver threads windbreaker. the bounce in my stride. stepping happiness with clouded sunshine. fidgeting with my 12x camera while twirling a “you look lovely” marigold. Continue reading
the sluggishness of the past week was colored by coffee shops, Bob Dylan, and writing one-sided love on the moon. comfort in lies she knew. her snug spilled milk sheets at noon. a song remaining in her mind. she was not a singer. but when she decided to sing, she bled Pocahontas colors of the wind. she escaped the sorrow that others rested upon her, a lacking of mutual awareness. she held the truth between her ticketed lips; love is not the jealously or entitlement that comes from a desperation for love in return. for her, one-sided love is fair. Continue reading
I admit I appreciate a good window. Counting the planted pots, viewing the crisp palm tree reflections, swaying my head with the white or blue or floral drapes. Analyzing the stained glass color combinations and the radio tunes coming from within.
As I relax into another vegan restaurant and dig for my journal as the question nests into myself: how safe are the streets of Los Angeles? Continue reading
bygone threads sleeping together with other people’s worn attire. mystified garments whispering of a hopeful new home. still frays or smirking stains like a heart shaped birthmark begging for attention. loveliness of tired clothes. Continue reading
Happiness is right there. You simply have to have the courage dear heart. Sitting along the Santa Monica coastline with my ukulele and camera is honestly one of the best ways to start the weekend. Life has been crashing in waves lately; my thoughts nodding like a distant buoy. I’ve stopped counting my steps and instead started measuring in shades of California blue skies. Continue reading
