Thursday, April 19, 2012

final thoughts.

this is my final post. i just feel as if these thoughts need to return to paper. i have recently started writing in my journal again, one i made by hand this time. truth be told it feels a bit like going home safe and private. we started this blog a little over a year ago Bee and i, and during this time i have learned so much about myself, but so very much has happened and so much has changed that it just doesn't feel the same anymore. we didn't really have high expectations for this blog, nor did we ever expect to have followers, but i think we gave it a fair go. i can't speak for Bee, but i am deeply thankful for the few of you who spent time with this blog. it truly means a lot to me.

Bee has another blog you should all be following. ask her about it.

as for me i am going to disconnect for awhile. i need to spend some time on myself. my new life plan is to let things go. 

 hope all is forever well, good night, and always with love.


Sunday, April 15, 2012

tree stories

 sometimes i feel like the tree that gets cut down to make a book that never gets read. it just sits alone in the back of some dusty forlorn bookshop, tables etched deep with coffee rings and carved initials. grown from the forest floor without notice. notched, cut deep, and dropped, chipped, cut, drenched with water, screened, dried, printed, sold, and forgotten. home forever in a quiet room, yellowing against a back drop of fake stories and fading ink. this is not a book you would want to read, but might have been a tree you would have climbed.


Thursday, April 12, 2012

winter ghosts.

last night i dreamed about a foggy morning in some deep forgotten forest. it started in a bed. my toes were cold, but the blankets felt so amazing tucked over my shoulders. i stayed there for a bit shaking the sleep from my mind, then i stood to get out of the bed. I slid my feet gingerly across the creaky floorboards, slipped a small latch on a wooden screen door and watched it bounce against the peeling white skin of the door. i can already smell the rich soil drenched by the previous nights rain, it isn't cold but a slight fog clings to the deep green trees and the porch pops a bit as i step onto it, behind me the screen door swings shut with a thatching thud, one of my favorite sounds. i feel the moisture on my skin, my chest rises and falls under a thin shirt, the buttons leaving a cool tingling trail. somewhere music begins to play it is distant and swaying. my barefeet sink into wet soil as i walk out across a wobbling meadow the tips of wet grass sliding over my bare legs, all around me tambourines and quiet guitar, a soft humming voice, and wet grass. as i reach the edge of the clearing the sun breaks just above the treeline. the world itself turns to gold, and just like that i am awake. my toes are cold, but the blankets feel amazing tucked over my shoulders, and this song was playing.

JBM "Winter Ghosts"


Tuesday, April 3, 2012


I have been listening to the moondoggies almost nonstop since last night. i am almost nostalgic to the point that i feel like i am home. i am at that point in my life when i have just had enough. i want to simplify things. breathe mountain air, watch a dripping line lay out across a glacial silted creek, paint in my garage with the smell of fresh soil and stale coffee, drink beer barefoot in the dirt, throw sticks for dogs, take off for whatever might be out there, but mostly i just want to be me. chalk this all up to just another bad day, and forget about it. i have incredible people in my life who have carried me this far, but it is my turn now, and i figure the best way to say thank you is to find my way. 

i just want all of you to know how much i love you.