Friday, January 11, 2013

I want you to tell me what, so I can ask you why--because the what is curious but the why is breathtaking.

is passion really just rainwater?

I never feel more love than when soaked in rain
I never feel more loved than when soaked by rain

"I loved you
like a man loves a woman he never touches, only
writes to, keeps little photographs of."
-Charles Bukowski
"In the room the women come and go/Talking of Michelangelo."

Sunday, December 30, 2012

This happened

Maybe my pale jeans and pictures with their snow filters and the snowflake necklace were heard. 

Sunday, December 23, 2012

The Nutcracker

The small girl on stage, back arching in exquisite paths through the air. It is impossible to tell the sweat beads on her skin from beads glistening like perspiration on her gown. Blurring the line between breathless and animate, hands build a place where fabric dances in time with the dancer wearing it; where the stage is a dreamworld set before conscious eyes. This is magic.