the sun above your shoulders.

Summer is just slipping by. . .

the prettiest country from georgia to tennessee.

This morning was. . .
+ a cool, post-rain breeze that felt like fall in the South.
+ bright pink nails in my new favorite color.
+ country music on the walk to work.
+ iced green tea & lemon pound cake from Starbucks.

This afternoon will be. . .
+ grocery shopping at Whole Foods.
+ stopping by the stationery store.
+ my first try at homemade sangria.
+ vacuuming the apartment and making the bed in the living room.

This evening will be. . .
+ picking up Stephanie "Merriam" F. at the airport!
+ metro cards, rush hour, and luggage.
+ dinner under the colorful umbrellas at Rio Grande.
+ lots & lots & lots of catching up.

in delay there lies no plenty.

O mistress mine, where are you roaming?
O stay and hear! your true-love's coming
That can sing both high and low;
Trip no further, pretty sweeting,
Journey's end in lovers' meeting--
Every wise man's son doth know.

What is love? 'tis not hereafter;
Present mirth hath present laughter;
What's to come is still unsure:
In delay there lies no plenty,--
Then come kiss me, Sweet and twenty,
Youth's a stuff will not endure.

--- Carpe Diem, W.S.

you know, this is really a beat generation.

"But then they danced down the street like dingledodies, and I shambled after as I’ve been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes 'Awww!'"

--- Jack Kerouac, On the Road

monday mornings, always hard.

"We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ."
--- 2 Corinthians 10:5

This is becoming harder than I thought. But I am beginning to understand why, and why it's worth it. And that's something, right?

"And this is love: that we walk in obedience to his commands. As you have heard from the beginning, his command is that you walk in love."
--- 2 John 1:6

it's far, beyond the stars. it's near, beyond the moon.

Somewhere beyond the sea,

somewhere waiting for me,
my lover stands on golden sands
& watches the ships that go sailing.

heart of my own heart, whatever befall.

Riches I heed not, nor man's empty praise.
Thou mine inheritance, now & always.

+++

When I consider your heavens,
the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars,
which you have set in place,

what is man that you are mindful of him,
the son of man that you care for him?

--- Psalm 8:3-4

an introduction, however late.

Most days, I read this blog. And sometimes this one. And occasionally things like this. And they are so beautiful & light that I finally had to mimic.

But I don't have a kitchen to redecorate, I don't have children to dress in smocks from Etsy, and I just can't jet set off to Paris for the inspirational view. So my only option was to mimic in blog form.

Et voila! Here I am.

please don't forget about me.

Chris Slaten // Mediterranean Sea


"She says she's miserable, but I don't believe her.
I hear mandolins coming through the receiver."

planned economies & pink cities.

Yesterday I watched a documentary on the tension in the West between Keynes and Hayek. It was fairly predictable it hit 1949 and the setting moved from England's rainy streets to India's bustling ones, where newly won independence demanded new economic theories. In a run down classroom, a man was reenacting the attempt to create a perfect economic formula, but instead of contemplating the impact of capital (K) in the equation, I only thought that I would love to teach English in India for a short time.

I would love, with Larry Darrell in my heart, to lose myself among the jarring streets and dirty chalkboards. To roll over word after word with little voices mimicking mine. To greet strangers while carrying a camera and buckets of empathy. And to write back home that my life is changed & challenged & better for it.

In between my humanitarian do-gooderey, I would make a pilgrimage to Jaipur, which continues to grow in my imagination as the birth place of color. The barren desert landscape was obviously once a lush and beautiful garden. And now all the colors of the flowers & ferns live on the buildings that stand in their place.

I am dying to wander its bright & dusty palaces and walk the lengths of its city walls.

But if children, color, and change aren't reason enough to pack up your life and move halfway around the world. . . March is the Elephant Festival. And if that isn't one of the Five Things to Do Before You Die, I don't know what is.

& when you're flush. . .

Humanity i love you because
when you’re hard up you pawn your
intelligence to buy a drink

--- e.e. cummings