Tuesday, May 18, 2010


I was wearing gloves with cut-out fingers when Scott proposed. And a bunch of sunscreen. And a turquoise sweatsuit.
And it was my golden birthday.
And my parents were there.
And Dad, Scott and I longboarded for my mom right in front of our beach camp.
And of course, I said yes and cried.

{from my journal 4/28/10}

One day I went walking and I was alone.
It seemed like I didn’t know which way to go.
My feet and mind wondering constantly.
Like a ship at sea sailing aimlessly. 
Sometimes I felt like I couldn’t see.
Sometimes it seemed like I didn’t know who to be.
One day I went walking and there you were.
When I saw your face I knew you were the one to fill that empty space in my heart. 
My companion and friend until the very end. 
I’ve never felt so happy and content in all of my life.

Monday, May 3, 2010

The Snowglobe Session

    As I sat on my sister’s 7’2” fun board on Tuesday evening I didn’t feel as though I was floating, I felt like I was being held. I was cradled by something greater than myself. In the icy spring waters my heart felt warm. As I slid across the featureless surfaces on the surfboard I felt as if this moment only existed for me. In some ways, it did, as there was no one else around.     
    The water reflected the brilliant colors of the evening sky. It parted gently as my board and I slipped over its deeply colored surface. My pale, previously winter protected feet grasped the soft wax on the board’s deck. It had been months since my surfing feet were neoprene free. When the water touched them it tickled.
    I remember many things from my childhood, but it’s rare that I re-experience the feelings from that time. This moment took me back to those golden times of blissful, unaffected joy. The long day I had melted into the happy waters and was quickly forgotten. 
    This session made me feel as though I was in a snow globe. It was one flawless and picturesque moment that seemed to freeze even as time passed. 
    I can only hope that it will be possible to shake this moment to life again one day. If not, I’ll just have to make another one.