this is what I do
so. *breathe*

lots of happenings in my life.
merelight work and all that jazz.
also since last post;
my car was broken into,
ripped my favourite jeans,
read Milkweed,
loved Milkweed,
worshiped with the saints,
got my first real massage,
slept 12hours in a row,
and laughed at my siblings.

it's 5:45am and I'm off to nanny in a few.

I had a dream last night that I lived on my own.
was looking for a little apartment.
maybe someday.

I'm determined to see a movie sometime this week.
it's been ages.
it's been ages since I did anything spontaneous and as wasteful as a movie.
bout time.


part of the drill

When I do a shoot
I usually come home and
immediately download the images off my SD cards
onto my external hard-drive.

Then I edit a few. Just a few.

These were today's chosen few...

Not most conventional.
But they are the candy images.
Short and sweet.



I spent much time in this space of choas...

and created order.

Listened to...




multiple times.

the end


random and uninteresting story

This morning I filled my tires with air.

Encrusted in the grime on the circumference it says (44psi). Which after a short and very humiliating lesson with Jaime, I learned to mean "pounds per square inch". I wonder which 'p' was dropped; pounds or per?

So there I am at the little air pump... with obviously low tires. I've been driving on them for weeks hoping that strong gales would seep in... or perhaps Brownies were real and would come and blow in them... wait... aren't Brownies usually mischievous?

I stick the pump in and after about 4 minutes figure out how to use it.

It has an automatic reader that tells you with a satisfying 'click' just how much air you DO have.



Now I have plump tires and black fingernails.
Hurrah for overcoming challenges.


Sister ~ Sufjan Stevens

this one song has been on repeat in my mind and on my ipod.

it's one of those i think you either choose to immerse within or decidedly reject...

but for however 'likeablitiy' is rated; this song was february to me.

from the plodding beginning, to the frenzied pith, onto the lyrics...

What the waters wants is hurricanes
And sailboats to ride on its back
What the water wants is sun kiss
And land to run into and back

I have a fish stone burning my elbow
Reminding me to know that I'm glad
That I have a bottle filled with my own teeth
They fell out like a tear in the bag

And I have a sister somewhere in Detroit
She has black hair and small hands
And I have a kettle drum
I'll hit the earth with you

And I will crochet you a hat
And I have a red kite
I'll put you right in it
I'll show you the sky

the inevitability of God's tangible joys wearing through our grating fears.

forward March


this is my blog.