Love you, miss you, wish that I could kiss you.
Happy Birthday, Noah.

The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making

Wow. Can't wait to get my hands on this book!
Also I am now obsessed with SJ Tucker's voice and songs.

earth day, every day

graphic design by Ainara Del Valle

I won't go off on a rampage (although I could.) But please, be environmentally conscious -- and not just for today. You live here. I live here. My friends live here. Hopefully my kids will live here.

Let's try to keep it nice.

if the sky falls

Print by Laura George

Dear No-No

Happy unbirthday, Noah-my-Noah. I suppose, where you are, this day is much like any other; but my heart feels especially broken wide open today. I miss you so much, baby.

I read your book the other night, before I went to sleep. I know you would have loved it; and I would willingly have read it to you over and over again, because I love it, too. (Do you remember when I read to you that time, right before you left? I will never forget.) I love you, I love you, I love you. Be well, my darling, and happy, until we meet again.

XOXO - Mommy

PS: Here is the picture I made for you.
Because you were my little tiger, and always will be.

In loving memory of Noah Griffin, August 31, 2009.

happy un-birthday, my love

In Memory of Ailis Evelyn Hadley, June 13th 2010

I drew this for you, Lissie, for your un-birthday. Because I love you. I'm going to share it with Remi and Rosi too, though. I don't think you would mind. You were sweet like that. And still are, I have no doubt. XOXO

Love, Mommy

at home, in the dark

I was only ever just another one of my parents' things. I had no voice. I had no armor. Even my accomplishments somehow belonged to them. One more thing. One more item collecting mildew, keeping company with spiders and dust.

They got to me -- how could they not? I was soft in so many places. But my mind stayed intact, somehow. Saved, perhaps, by the protective shield of my skull, the one thing strong enough to keep them out. I knew what they did to me was wrong. That their choices were hurtful and erratic, that none of it made any sense. I knew that I never wanted to be like them, never, never, never.

I remember the dank dinginess of our apartment, the crowded corners and the early darkness. I remember shutting down the moment I walked in the door. I remember trying to gauge the moods of the grownups around me. Would the descending hand deliver a carress or a smack? Would there be absentmided tenderness or focused violence? The harm went so deep. Even my skin was disregarded as a barrier. Where did they end, and where did I begin? I turned off my senses. I told my body not to care. And then, when I got hugs or other normal touches from people, I hardly felt those either, even if I wanted to.

They broke me, entered me, stole from me. Left a trail of dirt and ashes and shrapnel in their wake. Kept me stored in the dark with their other loot, waiting, always waiting. Waiting for them to notice how much they were hurting me. Waiting for the apology that never came, that has still not come.

in open fields of wild flowers, she breathes the air and flies away

This is my happy place. A place I always hoped really existed somewhere. Wide-open, safe, bright, warm. Soft grass underfoot, soft petals that slip quietly through brushing fingers. There is room for me. There is time. I can breathe. My mom isn't here. Nobody is here. Nobody needs me. I don't need anybody. I'm not hungry. I'm not thirsty. I'm not embarrassed. I'm not hollow. I don't know where I am; but I'm not lost. I don't know what will happen next; but I'm not scared. Maybe I'm pretty, or maybe I'm not; all I know is that it makes no difference to the flowers, to the sun.

Light pools in my belly. I feel like I'm breathing through every inch of my skin. I feel safe. I feel free. For a few minutes, for an hour, for eternity -- I feel like I'm alive.

contrarywise

I keep glancing at the clock and reading 10am instead of 2pm, as if unable to remember which side of the looking glass I'm on. I've had that feeling all day. Perhaps I simply woke up on the wrong side of the mirror this morning.

how we are strong

+ source

"I wasn't crying about mothers. I was crying because I can't get this shadow to stick. And I wasn't crying." --Peter Pan, JM Barrie

a grimm tale

I've been working on a rewrite of a story called "The Old Woman In The Wood" from the Brothers Grimm -- and I finally finished the first draft! It's really exciting. I have a long history of starting stories and never finishing them. I get scared. I want it to be perfect. I worry that it never will be. But I decided to write this story anyway. It was too delicious not to. It needs a little more polish, still... but then I will let you read it.


Illustration by Arthur Rackham.
See a synopsis of the original story here, or the full version here.

an early present

I just bought this super cute print for myself, for my birthday, which is coming up in just a few days. So exciting!!

love, no strings attached

I cannot for the life of me remember where I got this.
But it is very sweet.

hibernating

I'm recovering from a surgery, so I feel tired and yucky and the ugly weather isn't helping any. I wish I could sleep and sleep like the bears do, all through the cold dark winter, till things are warm and pretty again.


lovely artwork by Amy Borrell, via cake with giants

tear down the stars

via welovewords