Words and pages.

Oh the corner of  my heart that holds all my muses, tight and safe, is surely ready to burst. In fact, if I were to show the lists I have on my phone to any professor I've ever had, they'd cringe at all the unfinished bits -- sentences leading nowhere, a surplus of topics from tiny poems and musings I write, to addresses of dear friends, recipes, HBO program reminders, and the always frequent flyer read this book! memo.

But perhaps the guiltiest and utmost accusable is my love affair with journals. I have much too many but never enough. They hold what comes out of my head at those unpredictable times of the evening -- and day for that matter. Art, poems, quotes new and old, pressed flowers and calligraphy practice are all tucked away between those covers. And I mustn't forget blackout poetry -- being terrifically challenging in all the best ways. It is my newest hobby. I do intend to come up with a sorting method, for space and sanity, but for now I shall photograph them. Consider this post an ode to my collection. Aren't they magic?

Tiny pieces of lately.

The absolute best cookies and cream ice cream treat I have ever tasted, my niece turned nine -- nine? howwhy? Enjoyed a moment at the zoo where I embodied the bird lady from Marry Poppins in her abundantly mysterious, feathered glory. Handmade flower girl invitation treasures for my nieces and they gushed and laughed and said yes! But as long as I don't have to see you guys kiss! Suddenly needed many things from the Bath and Body Works Semi-Annual sale, which, correct me if I've gone awry, just happened a couple months ago. Oh yes I just need these 3-wick candles and foaming soaps! For smells and clean mitts! And finally treated thine eyes to the lovely flora and greens that usually come 'round in early summer.

Have a safe and sound 4th of July weekend darlings!

Thoughts this evening.

Flora during my afternoon walks. Always always.

Oh let's talk about expectations. Let me take a moment and nod to my pesky, oftentimes overly sensitive feelings. There comes a time in one's grown up life where a path appears -- a fork in the road of circumstance if you will. One way basks in the bitterness of others' negativity. It's a disheartening boulevard I have roamed down too many times. The other direction, a lane where the air is crisp and the soul is free. The sun forever shines -- where things feel good because they are good and nothing else matters. Where no one can bring you down.

You can probably take a guess at which path I've meddled with as of late. And quite honestly, I'm burnt out.

So here's to letting all of that go. Shame on them for not being reliable, considerate, decent human beings. But shame on me for expecting anything different. Here's to protecting myself from other's negativity, and making a conscious, thoughtful decision not to be the emotional sponge. I will hold dear the beauty I already have around me. The love and the kindness that's already here.

And be done with all the rest.