Button Noses

the magic.
tiny fingers reaching out.

what is for lunch, mom?

MILK.

we sure miss you. hope montreal is fanfrickentastic.

(post script)

p.s. yesterday i saw some mobiles; they were in a store. the lady (the owner of the store) was putting a lot of effort into hanging them up in the window display. they looked cute and i told her this. i then proceeded to tell her the tale of your elaborate kootenay's woods mobile! with its autumn hues, vibrant yarns, sticks and leaves, and a fascinated baby of the world beneath it.

what I am tryin' to say is: you make neat mobiles. keep it up.

bird's eye view.

from an airplane, with love.

Suspended Objects

whatever would one do without suspended objects?

with a definitive lack of piles of baby stuff, such as that which infests our ann arbor home, i set to the woods to collect a few things for julius' amusement. pinecones. leaves. sticks. you know the drill.

some yarn. one nail. about a ten minute battle with the nail. it was a duel of function: you will hold these sticks together. "no i won't," said the nail. "yes you shall," said i. i won. and thus, the sticks are held together. with the help of monseiur hammer.sometimes all a girl really needs is a centerpoint. and a hammer. that sounds gross, but i don't mean it that way.

stole a few chili peppers from my mom's collection in the dish on the table.

now julius has a mobile.

i thought you might like this.

its rainy and i'm stuck inside.

i have a treat for you.

its my favorite poem ever written.

it belongs of the imaginarium.

its called wild geese.

by mary oliver.

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on,

Meanwhile the sun and clear pebbles of rain

are moving across landscapes,

over the prairies and deep trees,

over the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clear blue sky,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like wild geese, harsh and exciting -

over and over announcing your place,

in the family of things.

Der Gerberstag

i suck mildly at this whole blog layout thing. i kind of just paste the pictures and then scramble around trying to get the words in the right spot. starting to piss me off. truth.

i am really impressed by your fabulousness though. i do seem to have been able to find the bold button however. in fact, now that ive found bold, i would venture, yes, there it is. italicized. thus, .......you get the point.

small motherfucking victories, i tell you.

mmmm. birthdays. i am envious of julius' pony suit.

the kootenays are WILD, kendra. there is sooo much going on here. and its hard to really lay a finger on it. i will try in individual words.

gardens, beauty, mountains.

people, politics.

americans. loggers.

hippies. environmentalists.

history. cuture. no culture.

mono-culture.
flourishing culture.

community.

social restaint. social freedom.

water. childhood. adulthood.
walks, strolls, running.

friends. enemies. shit-talking.
memories.
intelligence.

ignorance.
hiding.

sunshine. new. old. mossy. peculiar. mysterious. convoluted. confused. infused.

switchbacks.
young. old.

declining enrollment.

social activism,

social placting.
isolating.

expansionist.
informed.
concentrated.
wild, rugged, palpable.

exotic, rush.
small.
enormous.

(pony suit)

put mildly, this place is crazy.

real crazy.

it's a place where the human collides, or rather crashes, into the natural. where the distinction between real and false is extremely blurry. it's a place where people hide from the world, and yet the world surrenders herself. it's a place where some grow and some flounder. it is a place of great strength and great weakness, of grandiose and hypocrisy, of dymanite and gold. of water and serenity and life. and of course, the antithesis of such.

my brain is exploding

but in a good way.

wish you were here.

hope montreal is beautiful, sunny, crisp, and delicious.

i am a quarter of a century old today.

what does that even mean?

bonne fete, a toi!

emma

happy birthday, happy birthday!

25th birthdays are of the type that

could make you a little bit nostalgic;

(unabashed facebook thiefdom, my apologies)

OR

or make you burst into a fit of mid-twenties anxt

early 20s style?

(with sex & the city consequences, obviously)

Perhaps some anxiety - this girl style?

(she harbors the kind of anxiety that you don't know

about until, well, it's a bit too late)

OR

you could resort to

watching too many 'nat. geo' episodes:

OR ...

BETTER YET!!!

start hoarding a few key items?

not likely Em, not likely.

Instead....

Today, on your quarter century mark

on this beautiful autumn day,

in the middle of the Kootenays

(perhaps one of the most beautiful places on this planet),

I hope that you are living absolutely nowhere other than the present,

soaking up every sun beam,

laughing at your enormous son's hilarious antics,

capturing the tiny, photogenic curiosities

that have revealed themselves

through these autumn days

and tying a few solid glasses of baby duck on with your ma and pops.

yes, that little guy.

so, emma, here it is :

my little birthday blog diction, for you.

(pour toi, mon amie)

(my attempt to widen that already huge and glowing smile of yours.)

proof of wideness, see directly below:

my chance to try to express

(in this limited little thing we call language)

just how much you mean to me.

just how incredible i think you are.

you infuse my life with all that is good.

you always have.

might I add....

Although I am a little late today, a little behind on the boat of blogging,

I would love to say to you that today, of all days,

- your first birthday of momdom, might I add -

is a magical start to a completely new orbit of life.

You should definitely grab

that planet

(any planet you damn well please, actually)

by the reigns

(yes, planets have reigns, don't fool yourself.)

and realize that you (and Julius too, ok)

have enough gravitational pull

(in all of your zest, smiles, shin kicks, back slaps,

hariboo disappearance acts, caffeinated spurts, wasabi inhaling tricks

outdoor adventuring abilities, photographic magic powers,

and re-zestinating gestures)

to spin and respin your universe

in the best possible direction it could go!

i mean this. it's all yours.

(i recognize that yes, that little ditty

was teetering a litttttle too close to a motivational speech.)

birthdays (as you know) are special. marks of time, and such.

this one is especially specially.

(Xtra Special? Jaxon style?)

i know you know that and i wish i was there to continue riding champagne train with you.

i love you: to bits and pieces. hariboo bits, of course.

p.s. even fairy nymph goddess-like creatures pick up haribo,

if they drop it on the forest floor.

love, k.

a film review, for you.

Eat Pray Love

Based on the book that made millions of women with emotional problems stuff their faces with pizza and meditate, this features Julia Roberts as Elizabeth Gilbert, the divorced writer who travelled for a year. Fuck seeing this. Instead, buy a one-way plane ticket, get fat on exotic foods, wear loose pants, find a guru, scrub some floors, drink some tequila, eat again, get your palm read by some old guy with no teeth and hope that Javier Bardem will also want to have sex with you. (RH)

AMC Forum 2:55pm, 6:15pm, 9:30pm

p.s. i am here! montreal in autumn. (far away from cowboy coffee hell) my love. time changes and late buses have left me sleepless and internet wandering. i went film searching and found this. a film review, for you - it's basically us who wrote it. dunno how it happened. it just did.

so much love! i miss you!

layover & love

layover in vancouver: 3 hours (approximately)

i'd rather be hanging out with you & the baby of the world.

absorbing the fall's rays: sun rays.

thank you for coming west. i'll be east, shortly i promise. xox

i found something special:

//Even now, all possible feelings do not exist, there are still those that lie beyond our capacity and our imagination. From time to time, when a piece of music no one has ever written or a painting no has ever painted, or something lese impossible to predict, fathom or yet describe takes place, a new feeling enters the world. And then, for the millionth time in the history of feeling, the heart surges and absorbs the impact//

(the history of love, of course)

boys, boys.

FOOTBALL SAFARI

you asked for a self portrait.

i call this: game-day.

(don't i look american?)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

football saturdays

in michigan

are religion.

religion.

115 000 screaming fans

watching boys zipple about on turf

its a wild ride.

i drank 2 bottles of champagne as my personal pre-game show.

it went really well for me.

GO OUTSIDE

Autumn Atoms.

we have had visitors.

todd's step family.

it has been a long few days.

they really like to watch television.

and by watching television, i mean,

they never turn it off.

i really wanted to

ummmmmmmmmm???

how to put accurately???

kill someone?

explode?

implode?

or simply scream from the rafters...

GO OUTSIDE.

instead.

i

went

outside

being outside is

my crack

my catnip

my cigarettes

GO OUTSIDE.