Maybe growth is quieter than we thought.
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Pinecones & stones & feathers & greens. Peppered among my home & my journals. A memory inventory. An archive of sorts. Place-markers of my own narrative & those which intersect & entangle with my own.
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Bridget is a new friend of mine. Although she's been in Colorado for about three years with her husband Robbie—parts of her heart stayed back in Seattle, her previous home.
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Winter came like a thief. A quiet taker—stealing the lovely from her heart & leaving only the empty.
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Our words, our actions, our lives — they have power — power to wound and power to enliven.
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“He who works with his hands is a laborer.
He who works with his hands and his head is a craftsman.
He who works with his hands and his head and his heart is an artist.” - St. Frances of Assisi
Joel is a childhood friend of my husband, and has quickly grown to feel like a childhood friend of my own as well. Photographer. Chef. Drummer. Father. Skateboarder. He does it all — with humility and excellence.
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"If I find in myself desires which nothing in this world can satisfy, the only logical explanation is that I was made for another world." - C.S. Lewis
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Hand 'n hand.
Both of our last names have changed since this picture was taken. Our new names bearing new volumes of loyalty, courage & trials.
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