silent sunday

photographs silent sunday

Silent Sunday

Sunday, May 3, 2015

‘We live in a world where twists and turns are applauded. I’ve had my share of bacon-, avocado-, and cheese-flavored ice creams – most of which I could do without. And a whole year once passed when I didn’t eat a scoop of vanilla ice cream. When I finally did, my taste buds, wiped clean of their memory of vanilla, experienced something new. I felt like I was…

photographs silent sunday

to be tamed

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

“Who are you?” asked the little prince, and added, “You are very pretty to look at.” “I am a fox,” the fox said. “Come and play with me,” proposed the little prince. “I am so unhappy.” “I cannot play with you,” the fox said. “I am not tamed.” “Ah! Please excuse me,” said the little prince. But, after some thought, he added: “What does that mean–‘tame’?”  “It is…

photographs silent sunday

last night jack kerouac came to me in a dream + some links on writing {silent sunday}

Sunday, February 3, 2013

I stayed up too late; my eyes were burning as I rolled over to not enough sleep again. Suddenly, there in the dark, paragraphs came to me: brilliant, shiny words that had been rolling around inside me for months finally made their way out; they weaved into sentences so articulate and beautiful. I thanked them profusely, but pen and paper were too far away. I’ll remember you in…

silent sunday

selah {silent sunday}

Saturday, December 15, 2012

the young, young children, O my brothers, They are weeping bitterly! They are weeping in the playtime of the others, In the country of the free. -Elizabeth Barrett Browning My daughter is banging on the piano, my son lamenting because he didn’t get his way, fingerprints are streaked on the windows and toys litter the floors; these things have suddenly became precious to us; today we walk through…

silent sunday

until the surface {silent sunday}

Sunday, December 9, 2012

My daughter grabbed my hand, twirling me into a dance. I hesitated for a second, glancing at the mixing bowl on the counter, the dirty spatula in my hand. But her smile convinced me to drop everything, and we whirled gladly around the kitchen together. I soaked in her giggles, her blond hair lit on fire by the sun, her blue eyes that always seemed so much older…

photographs silent sunday

{silent sunday}

Sunday, October 14, 2012

It’s been awhile since I’ve posted some link love, so I thought I’d take this silent Sunday to do so. Ready?   I am terribly excited about seeing Mr. Sufjan Stevens at this show. Also, another epic Christmas collection? I can’t wait. The new Sprouted Kitchen cookbook lives up to all the hype, as I finally found out this week. I am also eager to get my hands…