So much goodness

                                                                                                                                                                Image by Dallas Clayton
The world is about sharing and I am sharing Dallas Clayton's The Awesome Book, here. The full book is online for free, since Clayton knows that most parents can't afford new books!
With such fantastical imagery and words that inspire, it is no wonder he quit his day job and is just dreaming, drawing, writing and touring the world to teach kids that dreams can and do come true and that ANYTHING is possible!

Special people like this remind me just how pure this world is and how much I, too, want to give something this bright to the world, like this.

It starts with our children. Teach them they can change the world and perhaps it will really happen!

x

They ask me plenty

In this time of transition, I get asked plenty these terrible questions,
"So, what do you want to be?"
"Where are you going?"
"Have you thought of what job you want?"
"Will you move to New York?"...

I hate these words. They sting deep within. Is this really all they care about?
Why can't you ask me,
"Where are you now?"
"Is your heart open?"
"How do you love?"
"Are you content?"

And they ask these questions because they think that I have an answer. They suppose I will reply with  a quick little statement, describing the job I have lined up and my salary that will be, the exact apartment I will reside in and the activities that I will subscribe to.
No, this is not how it works, dear friends.

I am journeying.

There is a road that I have followed much until now, it was straight and I never veered off of it.
The dirt road now is far more exciting in front of me, there are twists, roundabouts, breathtaking vistas and pit stops aplenty.

So what that I don't know what I want to do?

SO WHAT!?

Does that mean that I cannot be happy? Does that mean that I have no promise for success.

I tell them always, "I just want to be happy." Whatever it is that lights my heart on fire, that is what I will be doing. I tell them, "I need to see the world, I need to help, I need to share."

This life of just getting up, going to work, coming home and then pressing repeat, well that is not the life I need right now.

And so I answer them always with a few kind words, a thank you for your interest but really, I am not concerned. Hashem has a path for me, this I am sure of, I will not taint that road with visions of anything other than a smiling, bubbling over, sweetness drenched life ahead!

x.

The hands that bind

I told her straight out that I thought she was in hiding.
Her smoothness and the gloss were too neat a cover-up.
I said,
"I feel like I don't know you so well, I want to, but you seem afraid to let anyone in."
Her eyes turned glassy and she bowed her head.

"I'm a private person," she whispered.

I told her, "We all have hidden parts, but I want to know yours and I want to know why you keep it all so buried beneath."

And so the door creaked open a tad.
She told tales, half truths perhaps, still bandaging over those grotesque wounds within.
I heard things that I needed to be verified from her lips. She spoke these things as if she had never let them out for air before.

She stops during a mid-sentence, turns to me and says,
"I don't want you to judge me for this."

Sadness hits me, does she not trust this bond between us?
"I wouldn't have asked, if that was my intention."

And so she continues.

Glass eyes turned to wells and she let out drops that she surely wished I hadn't witnessed.

"This is me, it's me, I don't know how to help myself, and these feelings inside, I cannot control."

"I know how it is to feel such inferior thoughts within, knowing it isn't you."

"I'm just so anxious always, I'm afraid."

"We all are."

This was a back and forth, I listened more than I spoke and when I did offer words they seemed distant and not appropriate for the moment. I think such eloquent thoughts, I know these words so well, the feelings inside all too similar and yet I could not vocalize the only words I have ever known within.

She continues,
"I want to be fun, I am fun, but it's just so scary, you know, after all I've been through."

Since words failed me, and nothing ever seems right when one is pouring out such deepness, I just placed my hand on her knee.
A touch, a connection.

That was all I was looking for, a part of her that she distanced from myself and I wish always to be in constant closeness with the inner workings of the humans that surround me. 
Loneliness and depression creep in when we believe we are the only ones who hold such tension within, but we must realize we are all the same and the hands we have been given are meant to be held, meant to touch, meant to feel. They bind us all together, they hold us when we grieve and love us when that passion strikes.
Our hands do our bidding when no words are needed
or what has been said is just enough,
for the moment.

our purple sky

She sits numb. It came to her in a wave, crashing happiness all throughout the body.
A dream-like state, one she always envisioned but never quite had. 
It was a purple sky kind of day.

She only ever begged for purple skies and now with streaks of mauve and lavender water colored across the horizon, she knew that this was the day she had been waiting for.

She jumps in head first into the water, he stood there already enveloped in the golden light on the water's reflection. They embraced. It was just so.

It was just so.

adventure, of a sort

It is always an adventure that lights my soul with neon fire.
Can't say I've had one in a while.

Oh, what a sorrow thing to say.

I must be frank. There is opportunity, always.

Rather, I find the opportunity more eventful than the moment and then I sink in that idea that adventures only come to those who pray, deeply.

Rah, rah.

This is no way to treat a loving summer.

Perhaps it is the humidity that is churning my head with ideas so vile. Likening these thoughts with actuality.

Neon fire resides within always.

This is not a collected poem; This is a mild rant.

Pardon such absent phrases and words that stick too hard on the page.
I never want to abuse the art form, rather to describe the truth, that to write is to feel and if this is what is pouring forth on the whiteness now, then it must be so.

Oh, I did not know I thought as such. This is news, even to me.

If I pause, I could gather that adventure has been held but moments pass so quickly by these days it seems they get lost rather easily in the midst of all the mind chaos.

So many adventures popping up now, ah, this is more like it!
Happy, happy thoughts that would have been lost, had I not paused and appreciated.

Always a lesson. Always a prayer.

We venture on this quiet road, with nothing but a scribbled plan and we pretend we know the path but we never really are sure.

I get chipper in the dusk when the fireflies come out to play.
Even this, to me, is adventure.

how strange!

How strange it is that we can be so extravagant!
How strange it is that we love to hide it so.

Such a bland existence it would seem. You all follow each other and decide what is cool just because you saw it in a magazine.

Ha.

I laugh at this silliness.
There is something so pure in knowing exactly who you are.
I will pull out my orange heels and walk tall in them, despite what you say.

Dip your hair in a dye, say you love your G!d.
Do what it is that delights your soul exactly.

Dance in the street, dance in your room.
Dance when everyone is sleeping, dance when everyone tells you not to.

Some call me, a free spirit.
I laugh at this too.

I am not so much free, and not more free than you.
I just decided a long time ago that I would not care if people judged.

It is my life to be strange in.
Why hide underneath the pablum?

Ha.

I laugh always.
This keeps me happy and so incredibly strange and extravagant!

At least that is what they tell me.

"was I even there?"

They travel globe now. An easy get up and go.
Peru, Nepal, Ghana, Bolivia, Prague, Madrid, Australia, Paris, Florence, Crete, China...The list could go on for days.
It is just so easy now.
The world is ours.

But I want to see it too, you see.
I saw a glimpse, a sliver of a sort. A tiny amuse bouche that lingers still on the tongue.
Tell me, how does it feel to live with a tribe in the Tanzanian desert?
A home stay in Peru? I bet it is nothing like you imagine.

We go, because we can. It is just so easy. You see, everyone goes away now.
The excitement is choosing a place nobody else has chosen.
A game perhaps.

Let me spin this exotic tale into my own.
A blind pin on a map, yes, that sounds about right.

A fun game. We go, take pictures, pretend we know what we are doing, pretend we actually care.
A constant stream of posts to Facebook, or a "check out my travel blog, I've done cool shit" sort of thing, or a, "Let's party, get drunk and make out with foreign boys"!

When will we realize that this globe is not just ours for a public showing to display how cool we are?

Did you even chat with that local baker? The one you bought your croissant from every morning?
How about that little child who rode his bike in the street? He sure watched you.
Did you learn about yourself? Did you write down how blessed you are and vow to heal the world?

I didn't.

I intended to. It just never panned out as such. I saw, took pictures, posted to a blog and spent most of the time cooresponding with the American world instead of focusing on where I was and how to live there in that foreign home.

I believe that is what most of us do, but I swear, when I get back out there and place my pins on the map, they will be deliberate. I will focus my attention on the people and the culture and how to better myself. I will learn and care. I will desire to be better.

If this is what I learned abroad then it is something so dear, but how come it always comes back to haunt us? How come when I see others post their pictures in the sun, I get a dreaded feeling within that prompts me to ask, "was I even there?"

caught dreams

It is hard to believe that just a year ago I was finishing up finals, preparing for interviews for my internship, packing for London and starting a whole new phase of my life.
It's hard to recall those emotions that dwelt within but I hate to forget where I came from,
But memories are sad to me.
There is sadness in knowing the way I felt and how much I have grown. This is happy sadness.
Then there is the sadness that comes from knowing how much more you could have done in those memories and this is regretful sadness. I find myself in a loving relationship with this emotion.
Then there is the sadness that has no explanation. The kind that just puts your body into a limp stance and shakes the insides until they bleed those tears.
Whenever I look at old photographs or steep my brain in memories so forgotten I get so sad. Such nostalgia for something that is not there anymore but intense delight of knowing that indeed, I was there in those memories as well.

And so as I reminisce on this past year I find such a growth within. No words could explain the change that has occurred and no amount of gratitude can be given for these dreams that have blossomed in front of my eyes. No matter what my current dreams are, I have seen dreams come to life and that is something that not everyone can say. Some dreams I had dissolved in front of my eyes and some I still clench on to since I just desire them so.

We are always changing. It is a crucial aspect in order to live a fulfilled life and this girl, 1 year ago, was never as healthy as she is now. There is delight, there is sunshine and a calm confidence that she never felt before.

She does what she wants now and that is the best change I could ever have asked for.

x

shades of perfect

If you bite down on these seeded clouds, do you not feel that intense life source flowing through you?
A shade of pale yellow, a novel color.
Are you, like me, dreaming of that sugared berry torte?
That dribbling slice in the mid-summer heat served in that overgrown garden we cherish so much.
Is this not everything you asked for and more?
You told me you wished to always be acutely aware of all the beauty that circles throughout!

Feel it now as that juice makes it way down your freckled chin.
That stain is impermanent but the lingering heart skip, that stays with you forever.

to the beach

In these heat filled days we reminisce of childhood youth and that ever present desire to roam free.
But the ripped up brick sidewalks are far more brash than that soft sand I remember and the bars on these windows prove more than a barrier protecting me and the wild waves. 
This city hosts no wet retreat and in the memories I rejoice in a calmness that is so hard to find in this tense local.


Is the shore so hard to grasp?


'To the beach',  I say.

In another memory of something far greater, a Cretian side street stole my heart and those rocks piled high gave way to more than those crashing waves but a prayer that this time I would truly be happy.

better than most

This may not be total freedom but it's better than most can say.
to those who fight, I say I wish you never had to pick up that gun.
to those who protect, I say we do care and we really are thankful.
to those who believe that peace is still a possibility, I say we must keep that hope alive, this earth is still dancing with us, so why forget why we really live?

so wipe your feet and sing a loud freedom song!
We live in a democracy and it might not be justice but it's better than most can say.

we are.

 Energy in colored form, what light we are!

fire within

"Beneath the rhapsodies of fire and fire, where the voice that is in us makes a true response, where the voice that is great within us rises up, As we stand gazing at the rounded moon". [wallace stevens]

bleeding rainbows

She bleeds out rainbows since inside is such a cosmic radiance.

Nothing else loves like her and those neon gems she shares, well they are prayer to me.

She lives deep in her own turmoil but it comes out splatter painted and glitter-fueled and the only time you'd know she was pained is when the crayola paints run dry.

Tell her you also delight in the bubbles and the candy -

these ease all pains, always.

Child, come to me and dance the day away in colors dyed so bright.

Hold my hand and feel the wind move us, together let's bleed out freedom.

iridescent

...you become whole again and the soul, she jumps for joy.

the glass house

Gaze not into the future, bulging up the cravings inside that scream that someday it will all be brighter. Indeed, we live in this glass box. You and I love to think we are stuck in all we know.
This is not so. We build these boxes, solder them till they stick strong and then we forget we helped this creation. I've been victim to those days where these hands stuck strong to the cold glass, fingers curling in, wishing to feel the greenness outside. 
It was always so green outside.
But I did not open my glass door and step out. I stayed inside and said, 'not today, this is not my time'.


Today I felt that box around me and it started to make me feel cold all over. Even the sun that bounced off the glass could not warm me within. It was a shaking of sorts and this time my finger nails etched the glass in. I am not a spectator to this life. I am a mover and a shaker and a dancer and a maker. This world is mine to grab and this box is far too small, and I can see the potential of green earth all around me.


Let me change the world! Let us not forget how powerful we are. There is nothing we cannot do and I fear we forget that too often. We label ourselves into who others perceive us to be but this is not our core. Rise up and do the very thing G!D made you for. Dig those hands into the earth and plant those seeds of awe and love. There is only goodness that can come of giving back and I will not stay inside anymore pretending I am not here when called to perform. 


Shatter sharp shards around my feet and let me know I've made a difference!

wanderlust.

Take me to that foreign place, where nobody knows my name.
There I will sit in the gardens of newness and sew myself a new story.
A vibrant tale, filled with giving, sharing and acceptance of all and of myself.
A colorful book it will be with pictures galore that speak to all the beauty there is.
In this garden, I will hand write these stories that unfold and in languages so obscure I will find a way to a homeland that cradles my soul in plush and lets it sing it's sweet prayers in the moonlit air.

Across the globe we will go, book in hand and in heart in search for those moments where those flowers bloom abundantly. Indeed this heart is searching for a safety and a net. A web of sorts to crawl into and in the criss-cross of tangles there I will learn to do what I love.

A word and an image. These are my truths. A small pen mark can do so much and in this book we will share all the knowledge and love within.

Take me to this garden, there I will be free.

Morocco in May.

Curl up with your computers dear friends, this one is a delight! The May Lonny issue is alive now and it is so delicious I could just lick each page! Please, enjoy it here. x

G!d is good.

Be quiet. Hear blessings all around you. 
They live in the roots of the twisted juniper trees and
The creases in the rock formation.
They reside so heavily in the cavernous pit of emptiness that separates you and I.
Those blessings sing gently in the wind that helps the Condors to fly high.
Hear them in the heaviness of the dark, in the softness of the deer's foot prints.
Breathe in those blessings when you are at the bottom of the mountain, as you gaze up in awe.
Sing those blessings out, once you reach the top of the mountain, as you look out in awe.
Take a deep breath in and be silent.
Do you hear those blessings flowing through you?


They live in it all! Open yourself up to that place where they can flow in and out as if they are welcomed guests in an open courtyard.

Tell me your story

So together in solitude we cry the same tears- but you think you are alone.
Together we breathe- but you think your panting is solely your own invention.
Together we fear these thoughts within, the 'what if's', the pain and the sadness- but you suppose you are the only one who got left out in the cold.
How do I tell you that I've also been hurt?
How does my story, that is so ingrained within and shapes my very being, get shared?
We think we hold the world on our shoulders and that no body will understand, so we cover up in smiles and fake niceties and speak words that mean nothing to us.
That is what is easy, that is expected and that we've become so good at. But these illusions are mere cover-ups of lives so hurt and souls so pained and I want you to tell me why you cry at night, and why you think you are the only one.
How do I open up that pit within that I've locked up so long ago? Would I even know how to begin?
These questions, these yearnings, I know you have them too, we are together in most things, yet out of fear we separate and that distance makes us harder and that distance only solidifies our loneliness.
So tell me something you have been hiding within!
Tell me your real name of the soul that dances with you in your loneliest hours.
Sit with me in pain, in sadness, in truth and in love.
Together we can learn how to be full.
Together, these pure truths will pour forth, refreshing us with healing and trust.
If only we could share a glass of warmth and caring.
If only we knew we are never alone and that these lights of other souls that float in our midsts are also desperate to be free.
If only this we knew, then together we could cry and our tears could puddle in unison.
The light of the world would refract in our tears, turning sadness into softness and fear into love.
Together we would learn to sing again and together we would be.


[ah, wouldn't this be nice].

I find that there are no real words shared any more. We gossip and talk about food and the weather, but where has that depth gone? Does anyone even know us?
I wonder why this is so and how can we change those surface connections into deeply rooted and intertwined love?

A poem for today

 

A poem for today:

The light in the air is full of body, 

pungent and reflective with shimmers of joy. 

Perhaps all is good today, in this moment of stillness and breath.

The leaves, they fly around, circling in the gentle wind.

They dance together in commotion while I gaze on in deep stillness.

It's these moments, these feelings that prompt the passionate love within to rise up and stream out of me-

radiating the delicious light that today has brought forth.

And so I smile, as sometimes I am too afraid to do.

Don't we all just crave connection?

A friendly face, a word of kindness, a glance of pure love?

I believe in these acts, they burn within as a duty to perform.

A responsibility of loving my fellow beings as myself and as the lights of G!d in which they are.

And so I open up, even though sometimes it is so hard to do,

even though sometimes everything within me holds me back.

But today, in this warm inviting light there is no hard place within. 

The softening is such blessing-

reminders always of your love to me and this journey.

And so I must go on, spreading your love and wisdom and that pureness within that spills forth so smoothly on days such as this.

[written in the shade of a tree in a moment of reflection, a few days ago]

sweethearts in the pomegranate flowers

Come to the orchard in Spring. 
There is light and wine and sweethearts in the pomegranate flowers.
If you do not come, these do not matter. If you do come, these do not matter. [rumi]

Spring time pleasures are abound! Yet, these are just devices to get us to the root of the essence and our soul obeys...we love to prance in the sunshine and drink fresh squeezed juice yet there is more for us here, more to do than delight in these natural fancies. I think we must do more work within then the sunshine will play with us always, and not just on days like today...

Bargain Issue

Country Living's May Bargain Issue hit news stands yesterday! No where in Philly was it displayed (damn city) so I have yet to see it in person. It was so much fun to work on and there are some really good and stylish bargains!!

We sure loved Target in this issue, our cover alone has Target tables, pillows and lamps. The prices are too good to beat and they are just so chic!

YOLO

"Tonight we are young, so I set the world on fire, we can burn brighter than the sun" [Fun].

Spontaneous weekend adventuring in NY. You see, you only live once, so why not get a room at the Roosevelt Hotel with friends and gallivant all around Manhattan since we can. When you let the road take you where it may it leads to much openness and love.

My did I miss that city. It calls my name and I think I want it back...

unexpected.

"Admit it. You aren’t like them. You’re not even close. You may occasionally dress yourself up as one of them, watch the same mindless television shows as they do, maybe even eat the same fast food sometimes. But it seems that the more you try to fit in, the more you feel like an outsider, watching the “normal people” as they go about their automatic existences. For every time you say club passwords like “Have a nice day” and “Weather’s awful today, eh?”, you yearn inside to say forbidden things like “Tell me something that makes you cry” or “What do you think deja vu is for?”. Face it, you even want to talk to that girl in the elevator. But what if that girl in the elevator (and the balding man who walks past your cubicle at work) are thinking the same thing? Who knows what you might learn from taking a chance on conversation with a stranger? Everyone carries a piece of the puzzle. Nobody comes into your life by mere coincidence. Trust your instincts. Do the unexpected. Find the others."
— Timothy Leary 


DO THE UNEXPECTED and miracles will pour forth, this I am sure of. 
When we open ourselves up the world becomes a little bit more perfect.

Inspired words.

Sometimes, all we need are reminders.
In this transition time, this is when we can remember these truths and live them, or just go on like every other day, pretending there is nothing in us that can change this world and our selves.
We have so much power, let these words fill our veins and rush with full force to the heart! Yes, change we will bring and it will taste so sweet!!

The light within

"My soul recognizes your soul, i honour the light, love, beauty, truth and kindness within you because it is also within me, in sharing these things there is no distance and and no difference between us, we are the same, we are one."

a happy list

The High Line-Image from their website

As the moments become fewer and fewer in the city I recount some of my favorite things from my time in New York:


The High Line but not a weekend when it is flooded with tourists
Chelsea Market & the obscure foods within
Pho 32 & Shabu in Korea town
Any bar in Williamsburg, Brooklyn
Walks along the Hudson in the sunshine
The fact that work starts at 10am and that is normal
Almost everything is open 24/7
The hidden restaurant gems in the West Village like Palma
Artists & Fleas 
The West Side 
The A train and the 1 train
Romemu
Concerts at the Williamsburg Music Hall
The insane amount of delicious food
How in such a big city I have managed to run into heaps of people that I know unexpectedly
Attending Press Previews with top editors
Building community
Being the youngest of all my friends here and not letting that deter me from opening up
My proximity to Penn Station
Getting 3 internships and a part-time job in this economy!
Learning that I am able to live on my own
Stretching my self to my fullest 
&
Getting to taste one of my dreams!


xx

CL April Issue!

 

Our April Issue is now out and on Newsstands. If you want a copy let me know, I can get them for free (hehe). Yes, my name is in it! This is our Garden issue, so there are some fun articles. Enjoy!

A Rainbow of Emotions

The Met, Modern Section.

I'm trying to define the feelings that are bubbling up inside of me as I pack up my belongings, finish my internships and say my final goodbyes. It's really indescribable and I'm not sure even what to make of that vagueness. I guess I could describe it as a rainbow of emotions, since in truth, I'm feeling it all. Yes of course I am sad it is over, excited to move forward, nervous to go back, happy to see my friends again, anxious about classes, tentative about leaving contacts that I have made in the city, overjoyed at my own personal growth, regretful of certain things I didn't take advantage of, nostalgic of the moments that were truly remarkable, content at my fortune, blessed to have found new friends, worried we will lose touch, unsure of the career path that I want to take in the future and joyously knowing that if I decide to stay in this track that I have made some amazing contacts who believe in me and want to help me get far.


All this and so much more. The mind right now a jumble of these thoughts and feelings, each one passing in and out a different vibrant hue and now it seems they all have stuck in me, one big muddled mess but a colorful one at that.

but I do think it is time to return, it has been a wonderful preview, but that is just it, the preview needs to end so I can live the real deal right now and always!

Nomad.

I am like a nomad, always moving towards a better place. I settle in one place then force myself out of it before it all becomes too comfortable. And here I am again, packing up, leaving my life here in New York that I worked for 6 months to create. It's been established and I move on. Goodbyes never felt right to me but sometimes it is just best not to look back. On I go again, a new adventure, back to an old place I once thought I knew well. Life is never stationary, it is constantly orbiting to form new experiences and relationships. A wish to carve out a new home in my old place, a wish to continue on this journey towards growth and true happiness and to always know that no matter where I am, I am always home.
One week left New York. It's almost too surreal to say it happened.

The Mag is Back!

Lonny back and better than ever!

 Check out the March/April issue here.

comfort zone.

 There is no life until you run hard off the cliff into the deep end and think your about to sink when all of a sudden a new wave of energy gets breathed into you and you float to the surface once more. It's that scary moment when you don't know if anything will be ok, when really everything is perfect and there is no life until you go into the pits of yourself and release all bonds you hold over yourself.
'Life begins at the end of your comfort zone' and I am still trying to take that fall and plunge on down away from my self. I have one foot over the edge, my toes have been dangling for years it seems, always I've been holding on too tight, skin white, crusty and numb. 

I dreamed in double.

A Dream Within a Dream

          Take this kiss upon the brow!
          And, in parting from you now,
          Thus much let me avow-
          You are not wrong, who deem
          That my days have been a dream;
          Yet if hope has flown away
          In a night, or in a day,
          In a vision, or in none,
          Is it therefore the less gone?
          All that we see or seem
          Is but a dream within a dream.

          I stand amid the roar
          Of a surf-tormented shore,
          And I hold within my hand
          Grains of the golden sand-
          How few! yet how they creep
          Through my fingers to the deep,
          While I weep- while I weep!
          O God! can I not grasp
          Them with a tighter clasp?
          O God! can I not save
          One from the pitiless wave?
          Is all that we see or seem
          But a dream within a dream?

-Edgar Allan Poe 

I had a dream within a dream last night.

It confused me quite a bit and 

I don't know what to make of dreaming of something 

and then dreaming of that same thing coming true, 

while in that current dream

you recall your past dream of dreaming about that current dream as if 

it is actually happening

and then waking up and not knowing what is real.

What a mind bending experience! 

fly with me

"There is a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out
  but I am too tough for him, 
  I say, stay there, 
  I'm not going to let anybody see you." -Bukowski

I am afraid there is a dear sweet bluebird inside of me too. 
And you?
She sings delight and joy but I suffocate her songs too many times. This tough shell is built for protection but it ruins more than helps and we never mean to do such harm, but in building up our walls, we destroy more than we know.

We perhaps kill that joyous bluebird inside us all with each time we utilize fear as a coping mechanism. A hardened shell is an easy escape, it keeps everything locked in, so nothing can get out and tainted. It tells us we really have nothing worth sharing, since if we did, it just wouldn't be good enough. It keeps my soul quite unjustly shallow in the pit of my body. 


All I need is to open my heart and let her soar, but my, that would just be too fearful, for who knows what could happen to her then?


I believe we all must let our inner birds fly, for how long can we keep them hidden? It is torture to us all and we have much more to pressing matters to attend to once we are set free.


Let us fly. 
You and I.

home is wherever i may roam

It's been 6 months since I've left London. I think I fell in love with it a little too late. As my time winds down in New York City, I realize just how far I've come in the 9 months since I've boarded the plane for London last June. I've grown, learned, been stretched, and yet I still find myself exactly where I started. It's a very surreal experience to be on your own and working when you know in reality you are still a college student with 2 fully packed years until graduation. It's a weird dream of sorts, and I'm not sure if I want to stay in it, or get out completely, or just find that fragile balance. I think my desire to travel and see more of the world is knocking on my heart, from deep inside, and it's making the idea of being settled in one place a distant notion. I have seen how much 3 months abroad changed me and I think I need much more time away from the USA to fully be content to say that this is home. Britain, it was grande. New York, our time to separate is coming near and the sad thing is, I just don't know when or if ever I will return to live here again. Have I lived it to my fullest? Perhaps not, but I've done the best I could for who I am currently, just as I did with my time in London, and I am content to say that I am a better person for these experiences but still quite open to all the change and growth that desperately needs to occur!


xx

Palm Beach Opulence: a Fair and a Show House

                                            photo taken by me.

View my article on the Editor at Large's Daily News Feed here. 

We now can taste with our eyes

Le'Espalier. Visit the best food in Boston or the world, here.

I THANK GOD FOR MOUTHWATERING FOOD and EVEN MORE, THE VISUAL BEFORE THE TASTE.

xx

La Di Da

 Degas' Blue Dancers.

Bright blue tutus hover above bruise covered knees that lock and release.

Silky satin ribbons sweep across the saw dust covered stage: Yellow, pink, even purple.

A rhythm of count seven-eight is whispered among the cluster of floating dolls.

Leaps of faith that soar effortlessly and land swiftly on that splintery platform.

Maybe it was the hair pulled back tight, the twisted bun above the body leading the feet in a parallel sensation-

Maybe it was the torn and scratched slippers that cover the strangely blistered and strained toes-

Or maybe it was the sway of the hips and that un-chartered extension of the thigh-leg-foot.

Will it ever make sense the magic of the dance recital?

The vanilla scented sweat that stays glistening lightly on the baby smooth foreheads.

One day I’ll capture that special moment,

that split second in time when you are mid-air and legs high above the mid-plane and arms somewhere around heaven and soul singing to you that this is where it is meant to be.

And then the cruelness of gravity brings us back to reality and back to the sores and heartache but our soul lingers for one moment more…

And this is the magical and insanely incredible experience that keeps bringing me back to the pain of the inner thighs and the over working of the knees and the weakness of the shoulders and the rocks in the feet because there is magic in dance and the feeling is so addicting and I will never give it up.

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Ah, but sadly, I did give it up, and I have strayed far from those days... My body now in aches out of the lack of dance in my life and oh how I need to return to those beats and movements...my body needs it so.