Monday, July 23, 2012

Something old, something new

 Well, I went ahead and did it- I made a new blog. I don't think I'll fully leave this one behind but I am transitioning into a newer era. If you like to follow me over there I can now be found over at -


I'm excited to see where this goes.

Much love,

Thursday, July 5, 2012

Friday Fondue

 It would seem our monsoon season is kicking in early around here which means yesterday I was stuck inside for a bit, cruising the web while the rain let itself be known. I brewed some Earl Grey, put on Bob Dylan and searched Craigslist for houses to rent in Seattle. Because I FUCKING LOVE RAIN.  I have no plans on moving to Seattle (yet) but the rain made me so happy I thought "screw it, I'm gonna fantasize about living in this all the time". Anyway, here's some links-

Need an instant pick me up giggle? Try this site.

Pretty tasty looking summer dish. And the fist time I legitimately contemplated making a pie.

This bag made me go apeshit.

One day I WILL attend the Governors Island Jazz Age Lawn Fest.

Some amazing collections of photos going on over here.

I am swooning over this credenza that's tucked away at an antique store near me. I mean...ugh. It should be mine. I'd give it the love it needs.

I want to move to Seattle so I can dress like this all the time.

As far as music-

I've pretty much been listening to Beach House non-stop. Specifically-

And, so lovely it tears apart my insides-

They are coming to the Ol' Pueblo in September and if by some cruel design I am unable to see them I will revolt.

 Hope your weekend is of the happy sort!

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

Summer skin

  We finally find the nerve to venture outside and take him to the park, as promised. The heat pulls out all of your energy and leaves you limp, skin salty and depleted. The desert has no use for grand plans. It is mere survival and you bend to it or adapt. But now the sun has lost it's bite and the sky is replaced with the inklings of our annual desert monsoon and so we go.
   The grass is cooling down enough to where taking off your shoes is desirable. I shed them as cicadas buzz loudly enough to penetrate your skull. It is a buzz that sounds primitive. They let their song ring and remain invisible to passing eyes. We march onward to a large sprawl of grass to live in for the next hour.
  I have fought the summers arrival every year, this year more than ever. I am depleted and the harshness that desert living can bring is more than just symbolic. It is a reality. bend to it or adapt.

I am watching my son grow. I am watching myself grow. I am watching a love grow. And so things are shedding all around and a new picture is forming.

The Japanese see the cicada as a symbol of reincarnation. The Chinese have a tale wherein the multiple shedding of the cicada shell is represented as a persons breaking through stages of transformation until all their illusions have been broken and enlightenment has been achieved.

Their summer song seems louder this year.

 The monsoon will come soon and wash away the skeletons left on tree branches; and once the debris is washed away the desert will find an abundance that will make up for the silence that the cicadas will leave behind.