June things.

A list of June things 
I'd like to see more of:

potted plants.
daytime moons.
momentum. 
outdoor folk music.
strawberries.
collaboration.
salt water.
courage.
hammocks.
simplicity.
spotify.
summer rain.
red-coral sunsets.
tiny cabins.
old books.
possibilities of spontaneity.
wild, western landscapes.
sleep.
remembered dreams.
campgrounds.
days without time.
walks at dusk.
drives to nowhere/everywhere.
less waiting.

And more gorgeous music like this.... 
to melt into:

Two heated hearts.

Only take those ready to receive the full force of your love and life so that they may grow alongside you separately, yet dangerously close enough to create an entirely new world together while never shying away from the wild fire and splendor of two heated hearts. 

It is the only way. 

"I could light the night up with my soul on fire
I could make the sun shine from pure desire
Let me feel the love come over me
Let me feel how strong it can be"

Quiet synchronicity.

Don't simply brush away the inexplicable connectedness we'll occasionally taste as we experience certain people, places and works of art. These mere seconds of quiet synchronicity and understanding count. They always, always count. You just have to know and believe it.

"So keep your head up

Keep your love"

All was wild.

I'd like to stand with you at the base of the mountains and just look. I'd like to care about the way they collide with trees and rivers, the way your breath collides with air, the way I can get lost in the sounds of both, and in that moment, all was wild. 

photo source

A thousand reveries.

I wish to inhabit daydreams. 

To catch them as they flee,

to tie them 'round my wrists,

to be bound by a thousand reveries. 

To ride out longings until they're gone

rather than left behind, and aching.

In love with this tune:

"Hey now, letters burning by my bed for you
Hey now, I can feel my instincts here for you, hey now
By my bed for you, hey now, hey now"

Everyday poetry.

Everyday poetry: the collision of breath and winter, the pause between daylight and dusk, the breakthrough in the body, the sweet spot in the song, the photos in the attic, the rediscovery of a note, the strokes of paint on canvas, the silence in the nights, and the space after letting go.

illustration by Frida Stenmark

Rust and stardust.

"The night will give you a horizon 

further than you can see.

You must learn one thing:

the world was made to be free in.

Give up all other worlds

except the one to which you belong.

Sometimes, it takes darkness and the 

sweet confinement of your aloneness

to learn

anything or anyone

that does not bring you alive

is too small for you."

-David Whyte

I adore this song...

Sweet dreams :)

Takes me away.

This morning, this song completely stole my heart as I was driving through hill country and I proceeded to spend the rest of the day wondering how I would find it and who it was. After 30 min of attempting to google the few lyrics I'd remembered, I am now SO GRATEFUL for radio station online archives, and that the mystery song now has a name and band behind it.

I love songs that are "tristful" yet still impossibly fun and upbeat.

I'd like to drive for hours in the southwest with the windows rolled down and miles and miles of land stretched out before me, romantically, deeply melancholy. 

 

"Would it be much better if I knew....

 nothing about you?"

Let it go.

Clear it out.
 Let the last cycle, the last season, 
the last drain- inducing, weight-bearing, neck tensing clutter go.
 Rid yourself of toxic people, toxic energy, toxic environments, 
and places and spaces where you cannot be yourself, cannot rise up, or shine.

 Listen to your body. 
Your body always knows how to do it. 
All you need to do is halt the mind and follow its lead.

Night conversations.

I love the silence between two people.
 The quiet acknowledgement, 
the falling into knowing, and comfort between words 
as we lapse into our own minds, 
simply breathing and being while sharing space and time. 
This is the most powerful type of companionship: the kind when sentences flow, and then drift into silence when the need to be wrapped in that becomes greater.

Night conversations are also the ones I love best. 

Bonds grow deeper in the dark, 
our stories climbing to the surface to be seen.

These moments will live the longest in our minds; 

conversations by candle and moonlight 

with our sleep deprived eyes.

The shift.

I adore shifts. Shifts between seasons like summer and autumn, shifts like dusk between daylight and dark, the shifts of tides and moonlight and cycles and the sort of shifts before stiff muscles soften or stories gather speed. The shift is the movement, the momentum, and the very reason why maps and memoirs were born, and best moments remembered. The shift is the journey which is always where the magic lives.

photo by me

Drawn to rocks.

I've always been drawn to rocks. All forms of them: mountains, caves, canyons, cliffs. They are perfectly wild, ancient art, familiar and serene, and the closest we get to the heart and belly of the world.

Adore this song....

"Sometimes I lay down
What more can I do
But then I go on again
Because you ask me to."

photo by me and pinterest

June symphony.

The soft symphony of crickets and humid air begin the slow slide into summer. Hoping June lingers a bit longer this year as it is such an elusive month, always swept away much too soon. Hope mingles with green that this summer will be known as that summer, the summer that remains locked in memory later on as each new June arrives.

"To the gypsy that remains faces freedom with a little fear

I have no fear, I have only love

And if I was a child

And the child was enough

Enough for me to love

Enough to love"

He's not a poet.

"He’s not a poet, but
I can tell from the way that he
traced the curve of my spine with his fingertips
that he thinks like one.

Because I could never fall in love with a man
who didn’t know
that the most tender thing
he could possibly do
was send me a poem by Baudelaire
and tell me, “I think you might possibly like this.”

Because fuck if that’s not one of my favorites.

And all I ever wanted was to fold myself into someone
who heralded unspoken thoughts and was a messenger
of words without words
of a kiss broken by silence,
of silence, broken by a kiss.

Because all of the men I’ve ever fallen for
weren’t really poets.
They just held secrets 
like gold teeth in the back of their mouths,

And they kissed me
like I was the last poem in the world."

- Shinji Moon

That one gave me chills.

 And of course, this chilling song (an old favorite) to me, captures the words. 

"Your eyes they look the same as mine

Guess you knew this for the longest time"

photo source

You will find grace.

"You can have the other words; chance, luck, coincidence, serendipity. I'll take grace. I don't know what it is exactly, but I'll take it. Raise the multicolored trap door of the mystery- the stars, the sea, men and ideas; give form and meaning to the formless, the mindless infinitude. Underneath, you will find grace."

Mary Oliver

Yes Mary Oliver, yes to solitude near still waters, yes to grace, and yes to this extraordinarily beautiful piece of music. 

(Heart sigh beginning at 0.49)

"Well I don't have many, and I don't have much
In fact I don't have any, but I've got enough,
'Cause I know those eyes, and I know that touch
I don't have many and I don't have much.

But oh, darling my heart's on fire."

photo source

Grey skies.

One winter seems to last for years in places like this. 

Grey skies touching grey ground 
Days into nights and nights into days
until the landscape itself
becomes neutrally indifferent.

How restless it is to remain awake

 as the earth sleeps below us.

How easy it is to turn into ourselves

and think too hard for too long

until we too, become indifferent. 

I refuse to become indifferent.

photo source: here & here

Primal heart.

Love is a risk and we are often shattered to pieces by the intensity of the lust, the passion, the breaking, the unraveling, and the falling. The vulnerable"please let me come to you,"no I don't think you should,"what do we do now," and "are we ok?" moments. 

The push and pull, the aches and urgency, the bitterness and the pain, the bliss and the need, the warmth and the crush, the scent of a neck and length of a spine. The goosebumps and lips and frowns and tears and "yes,we are okay"'s.

The holding on and letting go.
The finding and the losing.
The hope and the sorrow.
The beginning and end.

Regardless of what kind of love, you, my messy, confused, beautiful, crushed, imperfectly perfect and yes oh so REAL human friend may be having in your life, this is my promise to you:

So celebrate your every emotion: bright and bold, sorrowful and somber, lovely and light. Then wrap your fingers around each one, hold them with pride, and say,"yes." Yes, because you are incredibly ALIVE and yes because my darling....

And even when you find yourself cracked open past midnight, 
wounded and howling at the moon with your primal, precious heart,

 remember that you can and will love again.

And again, and again, and again.

Because hearts are made to break and mend thousands of times in one lifetime. 
And not only will you will live through this, you can and will love,

once again.

photo source: here and here, here

Breathing in snowflakes.

Oh Birdy you continue to amaze and inspire me. You know the feeling before tears? That place behind your eyes that fills with emotion when something pulls your heart to the extent of losing control of time and space and control in itself? 

You must.

She sometimes gives me that feeling.

"White lips, pale face
Breathing in snowflakes.."

Photo source

That home.

"If only you could sense how important you are 
to the lives of those you meet;

how important you can be to people 
you may never even dream of.

 There is something of yourself that you leave
 at every meeting 

with another person."

-Fred Rogers

photo by anavicky

I just wanted to wish everyone a lovely Thanksgiving. 
Now, if you aren't nostalgic already (given it's the holiday season) are you now ready to feel an ache rise from your bones to the soon-to-be goosebumps on your skin's surface?

I'm sure I've shared this breathtakingly gorgeous song before 
and tonight,I just couldn't help but share again. 

It's the kind of song that haunts you beautifully 
where you can feel it.

I admittedly regret not learning how to play the piano as a child as I've always been deeply moved by piano notes, particularly in magical, heart swelling songs such as this piece of heaven. 

"Where the doors are moaning all day long

Where the stairs are leaning dusk 'til dawn

Where the windows are breathing in the light

Where the rooms are a collection of our lives

This is a place I don't feel alone

This is a place that I call my home."

Autumn girl.

I am an Autumn girl. 

"Delicious Autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I was a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns."

-George Eliot

You see, I've always loved the typical Autumnal things, but somehow when autumn sheds her skin in a spectacularly beautiful whirl of color, mood and scent, it goes far deeper for me. It is my belief that no season holds such a state of grace, dignity and profound understanding, so every autumn, I stand in continual awe with the world around me, as nature quietly purges herself to prepare for sleep and renewal. We are all so intricately connected to every part of the land and light, and this interconnectedness seems to show up most in Autumn.

I've loved this particularly gorgeous track by Paul Van Dyk since the age of seventeen. It truly seems to sweep you right into all that is Autumn, as though you were flying through Aspens and mist, madly high off mountain air and wind. It will forever exist as my number one track to drive, walk or even breathe to every October.
Enjoy the ride. :)

photo source: here and  here