The Tumbleweed Chronicles
April 2013
4 posts
n. frustration with how long it takes to get to know someone—spending the first few weeks chatting in their psychological entryway, with each subsequent conversation like entering a different anteroom, each a little closer to the center of the house—wishing instead that you could start there and…
March 2013
3 posts
Louie! Your photos are killing me in the best way…
February 2013
1 post
September 2012
1 post
July 2012
2 posts
1. I fell asleep last night pretending I was laying in warm thick clouds and pulling them up around my chin. I dreamt about war and running.
June 2012
2 posts
Denmark performed by the Portland Cello Project
Driving through forest & civil war battlefields with this song playing, windows down, dress whipping in the hot June wind.
April 2012
1 post
lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
memory and desire, stirring
dull roots with spring rain.” —T.S. Eliot
March 2012
10 posts
It’s always sad to say goodbye to a good thing. I’m always saying goodbyes and they’re always echoing after me down the halls.
Garrison Keillor on Springtime
-A late night in Arlington with faraway friends
-Just enough snow to comfort troubled hearts
-Falling asleep to Garrison Keillor’s storytelling
-The appearance of flowers, butterflies, birdsongs, & baby leaves
-Kissing all my money goodbye to save poor, sweet Henry Puggins
-Laying down on the picnic blanket in the grass and feeling, for the first time all year, truly warm in the sunshine
It’s early in the morning. I’m sitting by the window with my toast and coffee, and snow has begun to fall. We’d given up on more snow this year—taken it personally, even. But gently, gently now it fills up all the cracks. Flowerbeds are the first to go, with those early crocuses & daffodils, then branches and window ledges and all the rest of it. I woke up feeling a little lighter: heart a little less heavy, hands a bit more able. They’re such strange things, lightness & sadness, coming and going seemingly of their own volition. And yet, I can’t help trying to hold onto lightness as though convincing snow not to melt. “Stay. Please, stay.”
