“What people never understand is that depression isn’t about the outside; it’s about the inside. Something inside me is wrong. Sure, there are things in my life that make me feel alone, but nothing makes me feel more isolated and terrified than my own voice in my head.” ~ Jasmine Warga, from My Heart and Other Black Holes

Wordless Wednesdays . . . sort of . . .

Wednesday afternoon, sunny, 41 degrees.

Trying to get back into my blogging groove. Three posts in the last four days. Better than recent attempts, much worse than patterns of the past. Nothing I do is ever good enough in my own mind. Oh well . . .

Found this little beauty in my drafts folder. No idea as to why I hadn’t already posted it. Enjoy.


Wordless Wednesdays . . . almost . . .

My family trips were more than a weekend jaunt to the shore. We traveled all over Europe when I was a child, including a journey through Spain on our way back from a visit to Morocco. After watching some dancers in the street outside our hotel (which was named The White Horse–I have no idea why I remember that), I begged for a Flamenco costume—it was white with black polka dots; they bought it along with a set of castanets. When I came across this short film on Vimeo, I wanted to share it as it stirred so many memories.

Today is the birthday of Irish poet and playwright Oscar Wilde
(October 16, 1854November 30, 1900).

Wordless Wednesdays . . .

Wednesday afternoon, sunny and sultry, 89 degrees.

Continuing my love affair with Haiku, the Japanese flute, and dragonflies—incredible camera work . . .


Music by Kitaro, “Silk Road”

Not quite wordless Wednesday . . .

Wednesday morning, cloudy, not as hot today, 79 degrees.

In my dream last night, Brett was on my mom’s front porch, and Dom was at the edge of the yard. They were there to tell me that they were going to have a baby. My mother was upset. I was happy. Brett came inside, and we talked. That’s all that I remember.

Really missing the ocean today . . .


Music by Fleet Foxes, “Grown Ocean”