scenes from the weekend: trees

I've always had an odd fascination with trees. I used to draw them all the time and when I was nine I realized that if I kept splitting each branch in my drawings over and over, they would start to look a bit like the live oaks which had so long been the sturdy playhouse for my imagination. Even now when my hands reach for the pencil they start to draw whirling and splitting branches in the same patterns they've been making for over a decade.

This weekend my family came to visit me and we got out of the city, traveling via train up the Hudson to where the leaves have started to change. We picked apples, wandered cemeteries, ate the last ice cream before winter, and all the time my camera was constantly at hand, ready to snap pictures of new trees.

the inspiration board.

A new school year is starting. Tomorrow will be my last first day of school. It's one of those crazy things that jumbles your head around for no particular reason. So, instead of dwelling on it I've decided to put together a list of things that are making me joyful recently. For example:

The last gifts of the fading season. A bit battered and over ripe, but delicious nonetheless.

Reminders of all the little pleasures autumn has in store. And soft leather notebooks with clean, empty pages ready for an eager hand.

Old costume jewelry given new life.

And old favorites, waiting for the first chill of winter to be read by a fire with hot chocolate and slippers.

norway.

About a year ago now, my brother and I set off on our Norwegian journey. Now, some people might think it's crazy to travel with only a sibling for company. I have to say there were a few times I wanted to take his head off, and I'm sure he felt similarly inclined, but it was an amazing trip.

It's true what they say about blood running thicker than water. I don't mean that in the distinction between loyalty for family as opposed to friends. It's just that the almost eerie similarities in our personalities makes us good co-travelers.

Then again, who wouldn't be a good co-traveler when every day you wake up to this:

Seems like yesterday, feels like a decade. Isn't that the way of things.

the essence of dreams: past, present, and future.

It's been ages since I've posted my little letters to nowhere, and much has changed. But we won't talk about that today. It seems the best way to get back into things is to dive right in, so here it goes.

I like to reread things, in fact I can revisit any story I love about a thousand times without getting tired of it. I'm pretty sure my mom regret to the this day showing me the Colin Firth version of Pride and Prejudice: five hours of sweet bliss that I watched about once a month when I was ten.

I like to revisit the stories that are special to me, particularly those from my childhood. And since I wanted to be Laura Ingalls when I was little, it's not surprising that I'm rather attached to her Little House series.

 

 I revisit these books every year, and the glue of their paperback bindings have slowly come apart until each must be replaced. In turn the older ones are moved to a different shelf, to be handled delicately and cherished as constant reminders of well-loved books. And I buy a new copy, crack a brand new spine, and look forward to the day when this one too bears the mark that comes with love.

Usually sometime as the weather turns cold and the wind starts to slip through my sweaters I find myself seeking warmth in a lonely log house in the forests of Wisconsin. Because it's true what Laura says: "Their shadowy outlines drew her with the lure of far places. They were the essence of a dream."

Time Capsule//Shells, Familiar Shores

It is an unimpressive place, significant only to those 

who have collected memories on its shores.

Perhaps if I lined up the shells of my childhood 

you could read in them the things my unkempt 

words can never say. 

ties to places

1.Think of a place that is significant to you.

2. Find a piece of string, ribbon, shoelace, rope, etc. Something long enough to be tied around an object.

3. Cut a rectangle out of a piece of paper. On it write your first name (or the name you go by), a date, and a noun that relates

to the significance of your location.

4. Take a picture of your label.

5. Put a hole in the paper and put it on your string.

6. Go to your location, and tie the ribbon to something there.

7. Take a picture of your completed project.