I’m not good at bios.
I’m good at rambling words,
I’m 98% dark matter.
I live with my two slightly feral daughters,
and bunch of beloved furry creatures,
in an old house full of music, art, and memories…
I over-think absolutely everything. I am happiest when I can make things and work with my hands – scarred from scrapes & burns, with ink and paint and garden soil lingering somewhere around the nails. I carry home feathers and pebbles that call to me from the ground.
I forget to feed myself when I am doing important things. I don’t like to watch people work. I take deep joy in scrubbing things clean and making things new. I’m fiercely independent, yet I could easily spend my life barefoot, pregnant, and in the kitchen… With a book of poetry or theology or history propped open on the counter, a quiet friend drinking coffee nearby, and music playing so I can dance. I want to bake cookies for neighbor children and wipe their noses and read them stories about things no one believes in anymore.
Every time I get to be in the ocean I go out as far as I can and look away from land and let myself go under the waves and then I feel well again… And if I could die a “horrible” death, I would want to be swept away in the sea… Because I think it would feel like going home. Like Reepicheep in his coracle. Yes. I think about such things. I also know where I’d hide the bodies.
I’m either very quiet or loud. I think I talk more with my eyes than my mouth, but most people don’t understand that language. It isn’t something that can be taught or learned. I write things down in little notebooks and on scraps of paper I carry about. I write on my hand or arm to remember…
I write all the words.
Too many, and not enough.
Sometimes they are poetic. Sometimes they are garbage.
Sometimes I’m just crying in my coffee
and you won’t care about my ramblings.
Or maybe you will because you are crying in your coffee, too.
This blog is about life, and love, and finding our way.
Because we are all in this together.
I over use the ellipsis… and I don’t care.
I told you I was good at rambling…