{ I stopped calling you daddy } - daughter. yogi. mama. austin, tx

Dad I'm so thankful that you and mom gave me life. I try to say it often and I hope you hear it, I love you.
I remember playing with june bugs when you left for a City Council meeting, I admired your beard.
I sat on your lap in the tractor and watched you churn the earth to prepare for a plant.
You let me slide down with the rice into dryer and I can clearly recall the worry across your face.
Thank you for pushing me on the tire swing and taking me out to see alligator nests.
The creek house was mutually enchanting and terrifying and would be that way to me even as a teen.
I'm sorry for the year I stopped talking to you.
I'm sorry I was a fifteen year old brat who blamed you for secrets I was ashamed of.
Dad I know I broke your heart and I'm so glad you've never given up on me.
Thank you for teaching me how I should be loved.
You let me drive a tractor, fly a plane, and shoot a pistol.
Thank you for trusting me.
You pour love into my life, my girl's lives, and you dote on everyone you can.
I'm a better person because of you.
I can remember many times you saying "I'm proud of you."
Daddy, I'm proud to be yours.

{ i wrote } - yogi. lover. mama. writer. austin, tx

I sent a text that summed up my heart state. I was proud of the progress and the words came out poetic.
Along with so much, the text has been deleted.
I'm not fearless, but I'm not giving up.
I read this book over the weekend that reminded me to smile again and appreciate my strong will.
I remembered how I'm stubborn, savvy, indulgent, and nurturing and I can appreciate that those are good qualities.
I love real big and I take care of what I love. I care about details. I'm currently obsessed with rugs and I will always be obsessed with pretty shoes.
I had lunch with a friend and closed my eyes to taste each dish. I like short red fingernails and freshly shaven legs.
There is too much inside me and it can't all get out, it's not all requited and some is unwelcome.
None of it is wrong and I have to remind myself that part.
I've got the most and I've lost much.
I'm strong for this life, strong for my loves, and strong for me.
One grateful day at a time my friends.

{ you called me } - writer. lover. yogi. austin, tx

Oh my sweet girl.
I want to kiss you where it hurts and dab the tears from your cheeks.
I'd give anything to take this pain from you, press my healing hand to your wound.
Tender baby, don't fear.
Close your eyes and you'll see my arms wrap you up, stroke your hair, and lay a kiss to your temple.
Because I've seen your strength I know you'll be more than okay, you will thrive.
Let me be your safety.
Until you've cried all your salty tears and your body ceases to tremble, I'll hold you.
When you've crossed through the fear of dreaming and found sleep, I'll still be next to you.
Tiny lover so frail.
I'm here with you at the center of the earth, remember my chamber and the plush cushions.
Come sneak inside and crawl into my lap, lay your head at my breast and unleash your sobs.
Darling baby girl.
Blue silk, velvet, fur, and all of the softest things will touch your skin and secure you.
Breathe with me angel, squeeze me as tightly as you need until all the hurt is out.
Sweetness.
I know you're tired of being strong, fall apart in my den and let me cleanse each injured piece.
You don't have to be bright and held together, shatter and I'll hold space for your sparkling fragments.

{ embraces } - yogi. writer. photographer. austin, tx

There is a smell that fills my nose when I tuck my face into the perfect fit of your neck.
That familiar scent, familiar place, they encompass me and I buckle.
My skin prickles with chills and my knees weaken, but you never let me fall beyond your hold.
My fingertips explore the curves of your chest and they smooth away the tensions of your muscles.
I'll rub away your pain, kiss away your hurt, and soak in your tears.
Through injury, adventure, chaos, and all the unknown, I'm not afraid to share the struggles.
The center of your forehead marks the place my kiss belongs and my lips know the texture well.
They know the softness of your cheeks, the delicacy of your eyelids, and the return of your own.
My arms feel a ghost embrace slide around them and my heart pounds against the air.

{ scratch } - yogi. writer. austin, tx

On a cloudy day not long ago the sun broke through and pierced my shoulders with her graceful heat.
The line of my clothing visible long after I took them off.
Light left her mark and infused me with life.
When the sun hits my skin I respond, my shoulders curl back and I look up.
Through leaves it cuts a line of steely strength and vibrance, I see spots.
Cool shadows melt and make space for a warmth so tangible you can wrap your hands around it.
Pound, pound, pound.
The faster I go the more the dance builds.
Partnership of sweat and breath.
Each increase of my temperature encourages a sweet inhale of cool and waft of air.
A stubborn spirit and anxious mind propel the flame.
On a cool day I cupped my hands over my mouth and exhaled hot breath just to feel alive.
My ears prickled with pain and my head moaned to rest.
The memory of Summer a distant film on a dirty, fading cinema screen.
It's time to feel hot sand under my back again, time to be lit on fire from the outside in.
The brightness is so close that I can see it on the horizon even with my eyes shut.
Go, go, go.
Go get your dream sweetheart, tuck the purple into your heart, and live this blessed life.

{ un read } - yogi. writer. photographer. austin, tx

Where is the curious spark that flickered across your face?
There was wonder and desire.
Go ahead, crack my spine, break me in.
Lick your finger and turn every page.
Find the stories that you don't yet know, learn the secret.
In these pages, stories, humor, fantasy, and magic.
Read and uncover, ask and unlock.
A creative body of work in the palm of your hands.
Feel free, draw in my margins, leave your notes.
Dust and patina carry no glamour, blow off my cover and don't stop at the foreword.




I laid on the floor with my tears hot, stinging my eyes before they rolled to exit.
My chest heaving as I held in sobs, not now, not here.
I remembered the sky.
Last night I looked up, she was so blue I could hear the stars weep.
I've given up on myself somehow, I can't remember the light but I know it's there.
The light is blue like the sky and amber like my soul.
It feels like exile and I crave home.
I push and I push, at least now it's only myself, I have new sympathy for those I crushed.
My shoulders shake, I wish someone would hold them down.
Heart in my throat, a headache I can't escape, screams I can't unleash.
I let the rain fall straight on my head, soak my clothes, and wet my skin.
There was a time I ran through the storm and braved lightening to sprint.

{ words and numbers } long lost writer - austin, tx

Sometimes it takes a friend to speak up before I move to action. In this case there were a couple of you for which I am deeply grateful. My will to write, to shoot, and to share have waned and a part of who I am was lost momentarily. Although my camera still waits, my words I release.

You were 42, 37, 24, and a thousand yellow flowers.
I was wrapped up in a cocoon of purple with the blue sky above me.
A hundred days go by or maybe two.
Enigma and bliss blur together, I muddle emotion like a mint julep.
I have the words in my head and let them fall silent.
My heart is exposed and the words tumble forth.
Shake, books, everyone is Bob, angels in my pocket, and your eyelashes brush my cheek.
A curl of dark hair, skeptical and sincere.
Tiny fingers that wrap around my hair, the sweetest gift.
Nothing will surpass you three.
Water, mud, white linen, and bean bags.
All that has been, every experience, only excites me for the future.
Can I have this forever, can I bottle this life?

{ songs and sonnets past } yogi. photographer. who knows. austin, tx

You may not speak of me as if you know who I am.
Brief inquests only began to reveal the depths.
Who is this 'other' who reaches out to strike me down?
I am not for share, for sale, or any for that you chance to dream.
All can live bold and be full of intrigue.
Interest sparked does not equate knowledge, only potential.
We choose to dive and chase, to expedition deep into curious souls.
It can frighten, deter, and ultimately separate us.
Transmute fear into excitement, the same drug of the brain.
There was a shake, a sadness, a reliving, and a void.

We spoke of books, buses, and Bob...
and yet learned so little.

{ chill } - yogi. mama. photographer. austin, tx

When it's cold I have to tell myself everything is alright, my body believes life is over. The pep talk goes something like this...



Hush doll, it's time to relax.
Let wind blow and skin prickle,
you're alright, you're warm inside.
Feet friction the sheets and dry off real fast,
tricks of the trade.
It's only for a couple of months,
you can do anything that long.



Remember when it hurt to walk?
You can still move your fingers,
come on, rub them together, wake 'em up.
Socks are savior and your scarf smells good.
Bundle up baby, you'll get warm.
No thinking about Summer,
set your mind on cheese and red wine.

Rake leaves and bury time capsules,
it's almost Thanksgiving.
Sweaters and damp gloves,
hoodies and sweet potatoes, it has to be cold.
Snuggle close, nuzzle your nose.
The thawing will come,
and you'll lay in the rays of sunshine.

{ sky burn } - yogi. photographer. mama. austin, tx

The hills burned a special shade of pink alight by the fire of a setting Texas sun.
Warm pockets of air juxtaposed by strange coolness like the breath of angels saying to keep moving.

When moving from the place where light is clear, life becomes rich.
Windows of the soul thrown open to let the fresh breeze enter and the warmth touch the world outside.

There are smiles in this life that etch deeply and firmly reside as memories.
One look laced with encouragement can blaze brilliantly through sadness and lift a spirit.

Gratitude is ripe on the branch and I will stand underneath and cherish nectar spilling onto my whole body.