moving on. lately i've been looking out the window and feeling like i could fly. could run across the clouds. could jump up into space any old time and chat with the moon (which is really the only reason why i'd go to space.) good music gives me my wings, along with this place i've been the past little while. check out these pics . perhaps they will make you as happy as they make me.
brother shredding.
view from the porch. i can trick myself into thinking i deserve a lot of my happiness, but i never feel like i deserve this place. it always feels too good to be true. like one summer i'll drive down the lake road and the cabin will have faded into a shadow on the tall tall grasses and i'll have to wonder if it was ever real. of course, i'll know it was.
kingfish.
land of the BIG SKY. home of my heart.
this is the view i see most often when at the lake. peering over a book. or hiding behind a book. depends on my age.one of the hardest things for me is accepting that my eyes show a different scene than other people's eyes. not that i have a hard time accepting that we're all different etc, but that what's home to me is just like any old mountain lake to someone else.
i feel like i have less and less to say these days. i alternate between thinking that life is so rich that i need to document it all and thinking that life is so rich that living will be enough. i have to remind myself sometimes that things still exist without being put in words, that i can still feel things without writing about them. i often think of the verb "capture" in conjunction with writing, which proves that i am a hoarder. i like putting anything that will hold still long enough (and especially memories, though they're unusually frisky) into a box to collect dust in the back of my closet. i want to know i've caught it. i want to know it's mine in case i need it later. it's like the boy Marvin who puts his ice cream cone in his pocket for later and is so sad to find it melted the next day. when i go to pull out my boxes, it's all dust.
9 comments:
I feel the same way about capturing life except I tend towards photographs instead of writing. I have to remind myself that the joy is in the living and experiencing and that not having a photograph of it does not diminish a moment.
You are a beautiful, beautiful writer, and a talented photographer. I wish we could have spent more time together when you were here, but I'm glad we had the time we had. And please do come back to visit! Until then, I will eat cupcakes and read your blog. :)
those pics make me happy. love you miss curtis. hope the students are treating you well.
ah! lovely photos, lovely words, lovely place. what say we go back? like...now?
but I agree on this: life is for the living. but having the documentation in photos or words makes the re-living so much better (especially when what you're living is blech), because while you don't want to do so much re-living that you aren't doing enough living, there's still much sweetness in the remembering.
I feel like I've had a mini vacation, online! How marvelous. I keep reminding myself not to compare the East to the West and enjoy it for what it is.
I love the photo of you on the dock especially - I took almost the exact photo of myself this last month, in that same chair. My favorite spot up there! (Although, in that chair you typically need some padding so that the bar doesn't gouge your back). Great photos. Thanks for posting.
Wow, I just read some of your blog and I think I'm hooked!
love you. at em's wedding, the photographer wanted to take one of those dreadful kissing pictures, where the entire group of family/friends is kissing their spouse/significant other/neighbor on the steps outside the slc temple. your dad was on my left and he proceeded to lay one on my grandmother's cheek. she giggled and it was awesome. wish you were there.
Hebgen. Hebgen. Hebgen. Those pictures are BEAUTIFUL! Good luck with your semester.
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