Sorting through my writings and drawings again felt like getting to know the little me; ever sunny, ever positive, and ever obsessed with animals. It was good for the soul.
At some point, you begin to hold all your life together, in one basket, and appreciate it. Honor it. Protect it. I like this part of being an adult. I’m willing to take on that kind of maturity, because it means that I don’t have to isolate one part of me.
“Grandma, where are you?” A bit flustered and slightly more concerned, I entered Fairmount Cemetery all the more clueless. I […]
* It might be sometime around 26 years and 50-some-odd days that adulthood strikes and blood is drawn. It’s somewhere […]
Pink magnolia accents the humbly grey sky; rivers thicken with green shrubbery; farmland fallows as a new harvest awaits. With […]