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I really want a garden.

Here are a few things that have been inspiring me.

Perhaps this winter, I'll grow a little indoor garden. Lovely idea yes?

1. Beautiful seeds  mailed right to your door.

seedsavers.org

2. Thank you notes and gift-tags  that sprout into seeds when planted.

claudiascreations.etsy.com

3. Garden inspiration.

Please, anyone.

Let me know your there.

If people are truly, madly, deeply in love with each other, they will find a way.

"If death meant just leaving the stage long enough to change costume and come back as a new character...Would you slow down? Or speed up?"

-Chuck Palahniuk

"Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for."

-Epicurus

"They may forget what you said, but they will never forget how you made them feel."

-Carl W. Buechner

"God places the heaviest burden on those who can carry its weight."

-Reggie White

Rat tat tat.

Rat tat tat.

It's been too long.

Again.

Really. What are my excuses?

The air is cold out. So cold to my delicate lungs. Holding a delicate air and a delicate place.

Shattered china. Shattered muses.

Fevered dreams and fevered mutterings. A peak out the cold window. The sun has been setting for hours now.

Gentle, weak sun glimpses through the trees as I fall into dreams again and again. Oceans and curved buildings.

Stone observatories in the ocean. Winding stairs so frigid and uninviting.

I need hot tea and books. Wool socks and a someone to read to me.

This is all that I need, in this moment of time.

Is recognizing your needs bad?

My throat stings, burning and writhing.

Chills and fevers.

Enveloping and folding. Over and over.

Cold and hot.

So lonely. So lonely.

I dream of cracked dishes and pale walls. Such beauty.

Little houseplants and a furry cat roaming the cupboards. A little home. Of my own. So quiet. So alive. So dear.

In green lush beauty. All my own. Rain pounding on warped windows. Hush hush of the roaring fire.

Life is so simple.

Paints upon paints.

Like a canvas heavy with paint.

I am bending.

I need understanding.

Too much. To ask.

I am fevered dreaming.

I am cold chills.

Lonesome nights.

Waiting for your call.

I miss you.

Your eloquent words. My eloquent words.

Of wooden floors and white beds.

I'll be waiting. I'll be waiting.

A moon and a quarter.

That's how long.

Amazing isn't it? Never possible love.

But here I am.

A moon and a quarter.

It was a full moon when I realized.

Now he watches, over us. We are his. He is getting big again. He is at a quarter.

How many moons will it be?

Many many.

I adore you.

Wolf.

Love,

Hibou(owl)

This is something that I read from my book for my Anthropology class and I thought it was absolutely incredible. Culture and ways of life just fascinate me. This is from the book "Culture Counts"

"Nacirema culture is characterized by a highly developed market economy, but Naciremans spend a considerable portion of the day in ritual activity. The focus of this activity is the human body, the appearance and health of which loom as dominant concern in the ethos of the people.

The fundamental belief underlying the whole system appears to be that the human body is ugly and has a natural tendency to debility and disease. People's only hope is to avert these through the use of ritual and ceremony, and every household has one or more shrines devoted to this purpose. The rituals associated with the shrine are secret and are discussed with children only when they are being initiated into these mysteries.

The Nacirema have an almost pathological horror of and fascination with the mouth, the condition of which is believed to have a supernatural influence on all social relationships. Each day, Naciremans perform a complex set of rituals devoted to the mouth. Were it not for these rituals, they believe that their teeth would fall out, their gums bleed, their jaws shrink, their friends desert them, and their lovers reject them.

In addition to daily mouth-rites, the people seek out a holy-mouth-man once or twice a year. These practitioners have an impressive set of paraphernalia, consisting of a variety of augers, awls, probes, and prods. The use of these objects in the exorcism of the evils of the mouth involves almost unbelievable ritual torture of the client. The holy-mouth-man uses these tools to scrape, prod, and cut particularly sensitive areas of the mouth.

Magical materials believed to arrest decay and draw friends are inserted in teh mouth. The extremely sacred and traditional character of the rite is evident in the fact that the natives return to the holy-mouth-men year after year, despite the fact that their teeth continue to decay. One has but to watch the gleam in the eye of a holy-mouth-man, as he jabs an awl into an exposed nerve, to suspect that a certain amount of sadism is involved in these practices. And indeed much of the population shows definite masochistic tendencies. For example, a portion of the daily body ritual performed only by men involves scraping and lacerating the surface of the face with a sharp insturment. "

Who reads this?

I'd love to know.

If you read this, leave a comment yes?

I am so curious.

Where is this all going?

Open your eyes. You are now awake into the fan-whirring, blissful morning. Sun is up.

Look in the mirror at an old reflection. Aged over the years. I've known you for almost 19 years.

What a stranger. What a stranger.

A stranger who owns my body.

Hello world. Typical. Hello world.

Awaiting and creating. My new life is awaiting. While I am creating.

All I want is my cello.

I run out the back door to the back step which is soaked with sun. I sit. Just sit.

Hello world.

Here I am.

Do you see me like I see you?

Good morning.

Today, I drove from the rain into the sun.

I need to drive alone. To feel it all. To sing so loud it hurts.

I drove, nearly an hour to my first home, my home.

On the way, Somewhere over the Rainbow played over and over. On repeat in my sweaty Jeep.

At first the tears burned the corners of my eyes, but then they came, warm and soft down my cheeks, my sore throat belting out the words, cracking them, brutalizing them, but loving them.

I cried.

I cried.

I cried.

Sobbing. This song brought back other memories. 

(Kk's old house, we walked up the stairs. Hearing her wail and moan was so painful. So afraid what we'd find. A cry that turned into screams. Although we kept walking up the steps. We held hand-picked flowers in our hands. The song was playing, "Somewhere over the Rainbow" on repeat, repeat, repeat. We found them. Kk. Her Dad holding her closely in his arms. Holding her like an infant. "Bluebirds fly" She screamed, she cried. We cringed. We felt pain. "And the dream that you dreamed of..." We set the flowers on the bed and walked out."

That song, all the pain of everyone I have ever known, gone. That's what that song is about.

No more pain to grace my fathers heart, no more sadness to hang over him.

No more silence from my mother, no more fear from her heart.

No more worry for my dearest sister from the womb, no more anxious, fearful thoughts.

No more worry from my handsome brother, no more fear to share.

No more sickness for my beautiful sister, no more worries.

No more pain, no more fear, no more sadness.

That is heaven. That song. No more pain. No more pain. No more pain.

Heaven is white. Heaven is no more pain.

My music of the night.

-The Last Time: Gnarls Barkley

-Everything In Its Right Place: Radiohead

-Million Miles: Bob Dylan

-When It Started: The Strokes

-This Fire: Franz Ferdinand

-Rock the Casbah: The Clash

-Staple it Together: Jack Johnson

-Red Light Indicates Doors Are Secured: The Arctic Monkeys

-1000 Miles Per Hour: Ok Go

-Don't Ask Me Why: Billy Joel

-Stay Together For The Kids: Blink 182

-21st Century: Red Hot Chili Peppers

-Misty Mountain Hop: Led Zeppelin

Age 20

Jeanne Calment. The oldest recorded person to ever live. 122 years 164 days old.

. 

44,727 days.

.

Outlived both her daughter and grandson.

.

The last living person to meet Vincent van Gogh.

.

Appeared in Vincent Van Gogh's film, Lust for Life.

.

Lived on her own till the age of 110.

.

At the age of 114, she appeared briefly in the 1990 film Vincent and Me, making her the oldest actress ever.

.

At 85, she took up fencing. And at 100, she was still on a bicycle.

.

She gave up smoking at the age of 117, only five years before her death.Though she relapsed for a year she finally gave up smoking at the age of 119 years.

.

When asked on one occasion for her prescription for a long life, she mentioned garlic, vegetables, cigarettes, red wine, and avoiding brawls. On another occasion, she ascribed her longevity and relatively youthful appearance for her age to olive oil, which she said she poured on all her food and rubbed onto her skin, as well as a diet of port wine, and nearly 1 kilo of chocolate eaten every week.

I need these things.

1) A home.

2) A musical experience.

3) A final decision.

4) An animal friend.

5) A brilliant book.

6) A small object.

7) A peace of mind.

8) A prayer.

9) A cello in my arms.

10) A big big big white blanket.

11) A pair of soft, comfy socks.

12) A bicycle ride.

13) Pictures of all my loved ones.

14) And most of all to do this:

For some reason right when I come here. To this very spot, I can't remember what I was going to write about. But I remember this time.

It's about my girls.

It is decided and written, Macy and I are making a film. Of a group of lives that a few girls lived. The Ladies. More will be discussed and decided as time goes on but it is in motion.

I hear the  chirp of the "battery's low" on the smoke detector. It's in my room and I know I won't be able to sleep there tonight. 

My bear snores through the crack in his little room, the pantry. I can't remember why we placed him in this trustworthy cell. Oh yes...now I remember. He has a hard time with his bladder, maybe it is just his excitement. 

"You want-a popsicle Mace?" 

"Yes!!" (Said like little Gracie)

"What color?"

"Not purple."

I have a vision, of flowered white dresses and bicycles.

I've adopted another bicycle, by begging for 20 bucks out in the heat of the antique yard. He's a beaut. Brown and leggy. Little did I know, he is much to tall for me. He was ment for a large man. I took him home, and hopped on only to fall right over. I am so tempted...to chop him so I can ride him. Taking it to the lengths of cutting the frame to reshape him. It would be a shame, but I need a 10-speed. Perhaps I won't. Perhaps I'll give him to a needy man, or an extremely tall woman. I'll fix him up though. Nothing would give me more joy, well, except for riding him. Oh well, I'll find another.

My plans are changing and rapidly approaching. I might go to the U instead of Westminster. Money has caught up with me and I would perhaps be able to go to the U for practically and literally free. Perhaps money does really catch up with us all. Of course it's not what life is made up of, but it does make the world go round. I am compromising and barganing like nobody's business.

Bear had a bath today. Macy and I sprayed him with the hose on the lawn, washed his dirty fur. He has slowed down, but still has it in him. He's the best bad dog I know.

I like this. I am happy tonight. My bad days are becoming shorter. I am blessed. Thanks.

It definately has been a while. The little gray lobes in my head seem to be growing over with rust, perhaps not even  rust but just a quiet simple slowing down. 

I am happy lately.

It feels good. I feel like me and I feel purely joyful.

However, at this moment I feel entirely sleepy, and very heavy. My tooth was pulled a few days ago and my head is reaching to the pillow. These meds are making me dreamlike. 

I am feeling also extremely ambitious. Goals and aspirations are simply coming closer and closer every day. I can reach out and touch them, but however they are so far still. I have so many, it seems hard to keep track of them. Like small children, all under 4 years of age. But I love them and hold them so dearly. 

Westminster is coming closer and closer. I am working out financial issues and am worried to death. I need this to work. I must have this work. It feels right and this is what I must go for at this time in my life. Have you ever felt that something is so right that you would be stupid to let it slip past? These are my feelings right now. My prayers are constant, my ideas are neverending, the dream is still living. I will make it. Somehow. It will happen.

There are so many things that I want to do, become, achieve. 

It only fits to make a list. Perhaps it will organize my thoughts a little.

Here we go.

1)Become a student at Westminster.

2) Reinvent my cello talent. Become a cellist again.

 

3) To someday be in the Utah Symphony.

4) To be able to make and grow lovely food.

 

5) To have a family and be a mother.

6) To be married here.

7) To have an old house with a library.

8) To travel.

9) To love.

Beautiful...the only way to describe her voice.

MUTO a wall-painted animation by BLU from blu on Vimeo.

Last thoughts.

Last Day Dream [HD] from Chris Milk on Vimeo.

This song was requested by a friend, and really struck a chord with me. Here are the lyrics. It is about overcoming obstcles and trials. 

It is by Ryan Adams and The Cardinals and is called Stop.

Stop.

I know a sickness so ancient and cross

No crucifix could ever fix enough

In the basement of a church 

These people, they talk

There is a line that must be walked

If you wanna make it stop, then stop.

I know a place where the future is denied 

I know a hand that twitches inside

For some of us the glass is filled with lights

But if the honey makes you sick

Honey, there is a line that must be walked

If you wanna make it stop, then stop, stop

Slow down, you don't have to talk

Lie down, breathe, stop

Slow down, it's not your fault

Look around, there's so many of us

So many of us, you are  not alone

Ever, ever, ever, stop.

Call in the backup and the backup comes

But nobody can help you if you won't

Inside your chest, your heart is just heart

Behind your eyes, a need replaced, a want

I know a sickness so ancient and cross

No crucifix can ever fix enough

I know a past when the future is lost

I know a line that must be walked

There is a darkness and there is a light 

And there is a choice 

For a balance to be made every night

Weakness must be found

If you want it to stop, stop, stop.

I need to be free now.

Once upon a time... from Capucha on Vimeo.