//a thousand honest words

It’s no secret that  I like selfies. They’re quick moments of self-expression, like an outfit. I enjoy seeing other people’s selfies, and I like being able to show other people how I look and feel at any given moment. But a selfie can only convey so much. They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but in real life, the words aren’t always terribly poetic.

IMG_6246I’m all groggy eyes and messy hair in the morning, dragging myself from the darkness of sleep to face a day I’m not awake enough to be optimistic about (yet). I have an acne rash on both cheeks, like a permanent angry blush. My eyelashes are long, but so pale that you can hardly see them until I apply mascara. I have constellations of moles over my arms and two dimples on my face; one on my cheek, one on my chin. If you make me laugh really hard, you can see the second one. My nails are usually painted, but I’m also That Person who chews her nails if she’s witnessing anything emotionally stressful. I have fairly short fingers and can only wear large ring sizes, but I can still spread my fingers an octave on the piano (plus an extra key). I have chronic RBF if I’m thinking, observing, or (occasionally, and usually in crowds) bored. I feel like most days are bad hair days, but I’m used to it because long, curly hair will do its own thing. I wish I had prominent cheekbones, but I really don’t. There’s a bump down the center of my nose (which I’m actually fond of).

IMG_6252It’s easy when we have the ability to take ten pictures in a row at different angles (and then pick the best one) to look like we have everything put together, but usually I don’t. And that’s okay, because sometimes, the thousand words aren’t iambic pentameter so much as a freestyle, or a stream of consciousness. You can’t filter yourself when you’re speaking face to face. You can’t capture any given moment in ten pictures and tell the whole truth. Not even in fifty pictures. No matter what your thousand words are, let them be honest.


//loveliness to sell (south carolina)

Life has loveliness to sell,
All beautiful and splendid things,

Blue waves whitened on a cliff,

Soaring fire that sways and sings,

And children’s faces looking up

Holding wonder like a cup.
Life has loveliness to sell,
Music like a curve of gold,

Scent of pine trees in the rain,

Eyes that love you, arms that hold,

And for your spirit’s still delight,

Holy thoughts that star the night.
Spend all you have for loveliness,
Buy it and never count the cost;

For one white singing hour of peace

Count many a year of strife well lost,

And for a breath of ecstasy

Give all you have been, or could be.
‘barter’ – sarah teasdale

un changement en mieux


It’s inevitable. The very second a circumstance dictates you cannot do a thing, that thing becomes the most important thing in your life and you have to do it.  It itches under your skin and you contrive every possible way to get that thing done, circumstances be hanged! A little annoyance like a pinched nerve ain’t gonna boss you around, no ma’am. It’s a classic case of the proverbial grass always being greener on the dubious other side, except you already know you like this grass and it is, in fact, greener. I want to be drawing. I want to be writing. I know I like doing these things. I know they’re important to me. I know my soul needs to do them. I also know that my ulna nerve has different ideas, and I have to cater to these ideas until the problem goes away.

I moped for a week. For an entire week, I was depressed and moody. This is not my usual modus operandi. I’m nobody’s Pollyanna, but I’m generally positive and content. A week of Eeyore was tiring, and the day before yesterday, I decided I had to snap out of it. The black cloud over my head was only getting bigger, and it was starting to rain on everyone else.

I decided there was more to life than art and writing. I mean, I’d always known this secretly, but…what was there? Well, it’s been about three days and let me tell you what I’ve accomplished.

I’m reading. I’ve finally gotten around to reading Three Cups of Tea and Miracles by C. S. Lewis, as well as finishing Dune. I’m reading through the New Testament epistles and enjoying it because I don’t feel like I have something ‘better’ to be doing.

I’m devoting more attention to people around me. I’m very good at creating a perfect bubble and sitting inside it, surrounded by books and faced with my computer, and I don’t really need anything else. But if you take away my art and my writing, you pull a rug right out from under me and pop the bubble with a needle.

I like taking pictures, so I’ve been taking more of them. Why not? After all, it’s a good time to practice, right?

I went on a walk. Of my own accord. Not even joking.

Tonight, I’m going to see Strange Magic with a new friend. Wow, look at me, making plans and going places and paying for stuff and adulting all over the place.

I created a new dessert. It’s simple, but it was fun and delicious.

I got a new hair cut/style (a lob, for scaredy-cats) and I love it.

I’ve discovered I’m addicted to lattes, and I’ve been experimenting with those, too. Vanilla? Honey? Cinnamon?

I’ve been studying more art. Not just my stack of art books, but on DeviantArt and around the internet. While it makes my fingers itch because I can’t attempt to use any of the knowledge I’ve learned, I’m storing it up and once I’m healed, there’s going to be a creative storm. Just wait for it.

I’ve fallen in love with Tumblr again. It’s all in who you follow, people. I get so much inspiration and encouragement from my feed that sometimes it’s hard to take it all in. It’s the best kind of drowning.

I’m praying more.

I’m also listening to a lot of Maroon 5, and I’m not even sorry.

Is any of this life-changing, electric stuff? Certainly not. It’s simple, and I like that. For me, they’re changes. And change is something that – while I don’t usually mind it – I don’t seek out. I never schedule and I hate running on anyone’s timetable, but if I clean the house a different day than Friday, I’ll forget to take out the trash on Monday. Go figure.

I guess sometimes all it takes is a few subtracted options, and you discover there have been more waiting for you to notice them. I guess a setback is only a setback if you let it – you know, set you back.

Now all I can hope is that when I’m healed, I remember the learning package that’s hit me in the past few days. Speaking of that, I’m going to visit the chiropractor/miracle worker tomorrow, so keep your fingers crossed and pray she’s able to help a girl out.

Stay beautiful.



My family has quite a few holiday traditions. Thanksgiving is the first day we listen to Christmas music (officially), and after the Thanksgiving meal we watch White Christmas. The day after Thanksgiving is Doughnut Day where – shockingly – we make doughnuts. Chocolate-covered, powdered-sugar-covered, maple-glazed; and this year it was no small feat, considering we’re all grain-free. We slept in and when we woke up there was a fire going in the fireplace, with time for coffee and relaxation before the food-making began. Once it started, it was a glorious mess, as always – chocolate-covered fingers, powdered sugar flying everywhere, doughnuts and doughnut holes disappearing as quickly as they were laid out to cool (and frequently before).









My nephew wearing his uncle’s apron from when he was the same age ♥












IMG_2188IMG_2189And directly after this picture was taken, this video happened…

Do you have any traditional family holidays, or holiday traditions?

And did you see the new Star Wars trailer yet!??

//I know places we won’t be found

I took a break from hunching over the keyboard today and took an evening jaunt into the woods. I went farther than I usually do, on high alert, as it’s deer hunting season and I’m not ready for death, tragic or otherwise. The air was crisp and I even saw a deer or two, although they were too quick to capture on camera. There’s nothing like the golden light of an autumn evening for picture-taking, and looking back at the photos, you’d never know we lived in the suburbs.