settle in your stomach.

life is new again.

it is like when you drink cold water and you can feel it travel down your esophagus and settle in your stomach.

unbelievably satisfying.

where the horizon should go.

today the sea and sky can't decide where the horizon should go.

they are both sincerely bad with boundaries, a flaw that they both admit is born out of their desire to be closer to the other.

the clouds daring to run its fingers across the icy blue. we call this a thick marine layer. we say that the fog is rolling in. but the sky is just caressing the sea.

and the sea doesn't mind.

the sea billows towards the lofty sun, and crashes loudly. we call these waves. but the sea is in a fit, willing to collapse within itself, willing to forgo the embarrassment to get a little closer then before. and they sky does not laugh or ridicule the seas attempts.

it welcomes them.

mexican part deux

my brother was in town this weekend and filled our fridge and pantry with ingredients that would not normally be there.

arabic bread. (think pita)

feta cheese.

cucumber-corn-tomato-onion-other-tasty-veggie salad.

to name a few...

and in my attempt to stuff said arabic bread, which was falling apart quickly,

i inadvertently turned it into a burrito.

of course, a burrito.

one would expect nothing less of such a refined latina.

i am certain that one day i will find myself doing this very thing in a

restaurant somewhere

suprising someone.

crummy decision

dear vocal folds,

i know you hate me. maybe hate is too strong of a word. but i know you are at least slightly upset and terribly shocked as i put you through five or six hours of singing on sunday. i haven't done that in a long while. it was a crummy decision as far as health goes. but i need you to come back. i'll treat you better. i've let you be mostly silent today. not even expecting a sound. but how i need you!

desperately waiting,

me

when i wake up

sometimes when i wake up,

i throw back my covers to jump into the lap of the Father.

it is oh so safe and wonderful.

and we watch the generous warmth of the sun pour over the city and all who inhabit it.

He tells me these are His children, dearly loved, created in His image.

He wishes they'd jump into His lap some morning.

me too.

chalkdays [pass due]

this is my friend alexis (to the right, to the right).

this summer we went to a park nearby and played with chalk.

there were lots more pictures.

documenting our silliness and our impressive chalk skillz.

(yes, i spelled that with a z. and yes, i am an original gangsta.)

but these will do....

until we strike again.

what what?

vibrant with possibility

today i am

in want of courage.

lots of it.

because desiring an integrated life

[no gaps. no compartmentalization.]

will take that

and much more.

and thankful for

air involuntarily filling and exiting my lungs.

oxygenating my blood.

my muscles.

gas to get to school on a jam packed freeway.

a job with children.

they are vibrant with possibility -

little mozarts

adolescent einsteins

all of them sparkling with destiny.

because we forget that we don't deserve these things.

we aren't entiltled to the luxuries that we've deemed ordinary.

that we expect to be there.

to always be there.

thankyouthankyouthankyou, giver and sustainer of life.