i love her stuff

sometimes I forget how much I love my favorite artists and then I see them and almost faint with pleasure. Becca Mann in the house.

Happy Birthday Dear!

Say something about telling and being and love. A dance for afterwards or right before, like when in anticipation your little heart beats too fast.

I'd like to keep things nice

Coppery metallic taste

not your average lady

a little bit uncooked maybe

and swept back, without bobby pins

walking briskly ahead of the pack

with a slight trotty trot trot

whistling and digging through

a purse that is full of everything

but not full of anything she needs

least of all a warm apricot

the love in your eyes turns the knife in my stomach so nice

At that very moment she saw the horizon stretching out, at last a thin silver line marked the space between. Kneeling on a half prayer she balanced for hours. She was holding her breath like that. The day shifted and floated, carrying the weight of all of those other times with other people. They seemed to be stretched so far apart that the ties that had once held them became empty and brittle. Coming all the way back to where she had started, it gave her something solid to think about, like keeping your hand on the horse, sliding it up the back and across the neck. You don’t tell it anything, a secret even your horse can’t figure. Bleeding all of this felt fantastic. She withered away in this space of thought with the stark white light against its darkening counterpart. The walk home uneasy and jilting.

dinosaur lungs

dr peter ward talked about dinosaurs in a guest lecture today at work. We all have dinosaur lungs. check it out.

The next book on my summer reading list: A Great Night

I am working on a few classic illustrations this week, inspired by some of my favorite stories Peter and the Wolf, Rumpelstiltskin and Thumbelina. Lots of drawing, this is a good project.

I'm pretty happy right now.

heartbeats like this

The Knife - Heartbeats from Johannes Nyholm on Vimeo.

you do too

don't need money, don't need fame

just a fool in love

headdresses

I'll take the gold one and her magic stick

happy we were ever

I had you all to play with. I had a piece of each of your hearts, and now you've slipped away into your own lives and I am left with the happiest heaviest memories. I would give so much to peek back into those late nights and stand with you under the stars on the open grass rim we called home. Your honest little hearts, belting things into the night. I miss you ever so, so much.