I sing the songs of the glory of you

{I am always a little awestruck at beautiful pictures of "old love." love that has never let the butterflies die. love that has tired hands and feet, no longer tired from the searching, but from continuously walking and reaching toward that same love they spent so long searching for. from carrying a load that was too much for one pair of hands. from working together to cultivate that kind of love. the kind that lasts forever.}

"Whoever you are, I fear you are walking the walks of

I fear these supposed realities are to melt from under your
feet and hands, Even now your features, joys, speech, house, trade, manners,
troubles, follies, costume, crimes, dissipate away from you,

Your true soul and body appear before me,
They stand forth out of affairs, out of commerce, shops,
work, farms, clothes, the house, buying, selling, eating,
drinking, suffering, dying.

Whoever you are, now I place my hand upon you, that you
be my poem, I whisper with my lips close to your ear,
I have loved many women and men, but I love none better
than you.

O I have been dilatory and dumb, I should have made my way straight to you long ago,
I should have blabb'd nothing but you, I should have chanted
nothing but you.

I will leave all and come and make the hymns of you,
None has understood you, but I understand you,
None has done justice to you, you have not done justice to

O I could sing such grandeurs and glories about you!
You have not known what you are, you have slumber'd upon
yourself all your life
, Your eyelids have been the same as closed most of the time,

What you have done returns already in mockeries, (Your thrift, knowledge, prayers,
if they do not return in
mockeries, what is their return?)
There is no virtue, no beauty in man or woman, but as good
is in you, No pluck, no endurance in others, but as good is in you,
No pleasure waiting for others, but an equal pleasure waits
for you.
I sing the songs of the glory of you.

Through angers, losses, ambition, ignorance, ennui, what
you are picks its way."

-Walt Whitman, To You

(full version here)
image via vi.sualize.us


the beautiful world

"If there is a sin against life, it consists perhaps not so much in despairing of life as in hoping for another life and in eluding the implacable grandeur of this life."
-Albert Camus
This day I pledge to stop taking the beauty of this life for granted.
To enjoy the hot and the cold
To ride rough tides and relax in smooth waters
To climb hills and fall into valleys
To appreciate haves and learn from the have nots

This day I pledge to fall in love every day with a new aspect of this existence
And to give thanks
Because love is only alive when it's recreated every day

This day I pledge to bask in the grace and the goodness of God
And to renew that childlike wonder
And to give love to all
Even those who don't seem to deserve it
Especially those who don't seem to deserve it

Because this life is what I make of it, so I'll make it wonderful.

image via vi.sualize.us


pitter pat

{Colby posted this image on
Pray Hard. Live Easy today. She always has the most perfect quotes and such beautiful pictures.}

All I have to say is, frankly, I don't mind being barefoot in the kitchen.

image seen at prayhard.liveeasy


He was never one to sit and watch television.
He would sit cross-legged on top of the tube, look out the window and watch the world outside.

He saw people mulling around, in their various costumes, walking to work, to play, to eat.

Dressed to impress, dressed for success, dressed with distress.

He would imagine their lives and write their stories on the invisible pages of the future. Not the story that everyone knew; the obvious, surface-level travelogue of day-to-day happenings.

But the story that was waiting, wanting to be told. The story they wanted desperately to tell, but did not know where to begin.

Or who would listen.

Because maybe the story didn't have a happy ending.

Or maybe it didn't have an ending at all...

image via deviantart


The massive, annual, hopeful, probably too long, list of summer goals:

Books I want to read/finish (at least a few of them this summer...):
-Finish Zorro
-Finish Deep Economy
-Michael Pollan's Food Rules
-Let the Great World Spin
-Finish the Alchemist
-Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

Concerts I want to go to:
-Ryan Star...it's this Saturday, so...not likely, but it would be awesome
-Carbon Leaf..next Monday!
-Stephen Kellogg and the Sixers (in September)
-Twilight Series (concerts, not vampires)? Beirut?

Movies I want to watch:
-Karate Kid
-He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not (for like the 4th time...but oh well)
-Letters to Juliet
-The September Issue
-Coco avant Chanel

-make enough money to pay tuition in the fall (car wash? bake sale? garage sale?
-continue to work in the adlab
-go to the farmers market
-eat all the bing cherries I want
-make a batch of freezer jam
-make a loaf or two of semolina bread with basil butter
-really improve my rumba, so when gold latin auditions come around...
-eat less cheese
-learn a few more phrases in French or Italian (besides "Je ne comprends pas" or "Parlo un po' d'italiano")

I'm making a goal to read something every day. The newspaper, a book, Ad Age. Anything.

And you can hold me to it. In fact, please do.

image via vi.sualize.us

"what you are in love with, what seizes your imagination, will affect everything. it will decide what gets you out of bed in the mornings, what you do with your evenings, how you spend your weekends, what you read, who you know, what breaks your heart, and what amazes you. fall in love, stay in love, and it will decide everything."

- pedro arrupe


Born in the 80s

So what if I'm too young to really remember this song?

But I'm loving it.
Not sure why.

And maybe I wouldn't have followed John Waite's tour bus all over the country.
Or had posters of him all over my walls.
Or listened to his music nonstop on my walkman.

But I do like this song.
And the oh-so-80s sense of the music video.


Some Kind of Story, Part Three

And though playing it safe was comfortable.
And easy.
Most of the time,

She still craved that sense of recklessness.
The unexpected, the spontaneous.
The untested waters.

And though new things made her a bit uneasy,
the uneasiness was not always a bad thing.


Some Kind of Story, Part Two

She'd always played it pretty safe.
She could be spontaneous about the little things.
The midnight food runs, the impulse buys, the making of friends and the trusting of those friends.

But love?

Love was not something she ever did without thinking.
In fact, she thought about it a lot.
And she wondered if maybe she did a little too much wondering and dreaming and writing.

And not enough leaping.

Some Kind of Story, Part One

She was never one to go for the lead singer.

She liked drummers.
Almost hidden behind shaggy hair and a stack of hi-hats.
Keeping the beat.

They seemed steady, but reckless at the same time.
And always so much about the music.
And not so much the spotlight.

No band is complete without one.
And neither was she.