the pictures, they’re the only thing that seem to fit just right. that’s why i keep taking them.
i spend an embarrassing amount of the rest of my time working, thinking about aging, folding laundry, pining, and trying NOT to eat as many cookies as i think i need. i am reading a book and watching a series, but they’re not the kinds of things that feed me. and they sure as hell don’t feel like this photo feels. the brilliant green. the sun shining through the blackbirds’ wings. the fuzzy landscape. the poetry. it’s the poetry i can’t get enough of.
where do you find the poetry? or whatever it is that fills you up? and what do you do when you can’t even identify what it is you need?
ate quinoa for the first two meals of the day. yes, by choice. trying to eat more fiber and well, it’s kinda good. i take that back. the breakfast version (with vanilla soymilk, candied walnuts, and white peaches) was frickin’ awful. tasted like dirt — and not in a good dirt way — so i mostly just ate the peaches and nuts out of it. however, the lunch version (with black beans, a bit of chicken, cheddar, salsa and scooped up with tortilla chips) was awesome. how do you eat your quinoa?
K and I had big plans to clean the windshield before heading out there last night, but the milkshake comas got in the way of the remembering. my large vanilla and her large pistachio, and no one’s synapses were connecting anymore. but the golden hour was lovely nonetheless, despite the dirty window. and maybe even because of it …