My mind’s flies are released. The wind whispers to silence, and the sand gnats flock. I nearly instantly itch everywhere the buzzing, the bites, the burden I’m aware it consumes me, and that’s almost worse. The horse flies join the party, they buzz at a lower frequency, they bite with more vengeance, they dance with the gnats, not overpowering, allowing me to feel both songs. My mind keeps going, “Call in the cavalry!” it screams: the mosquito thoughts, the hornet dreams, the spiraling fleas. Where is the wind? It’s void is not stillness, no; it’s a raging storm, the eye yet to be seen the face lost in the anxious patterns the rain filled with cries of fear. It’s curled up on the floor, exhausted, witness to the flood. I begin to breath. my breath blows cool currents across the land, it harmonizes with the earth’s rotation catching the trade winds the jet stream going for a ride around the world. It all shall pass.
Month: March 2016
An Ode to My Daddy
To be of use
to pull like an ox
to make waves
and sing out loud
in a restaurant
in the living room.
To dance in the kitchen
and love without pause.
“Jump to daddy” he calls,
arms reaching toward me.
He’ll catch me,
he'll hold me,
he always will.
Feet on my belly
he flies me like superman,
like an airplane.
I gaze down,
that’s my Poppa.
“Let me be your daddy”
he’ll tell me years later.
He holds me, he’ll always hold me.
What grace he spreads
for me to walk upon,
what wisdom, what love,
what joy he’s given me.
Images burned into my
mind’s eye:
dolphins spouting not four feet
from our kayaks;
naked river crossings,
floating gear;
snowy mountain tops,
heavenly vistas.
A spirit for adventure.
He sees god in beauty:
the freshly squeezed oranges,
the deer prancing through
the forest,
the frozen chicken demolished
by the elegant vulture,
the heron shadowing her supper,
his puppies cuddling by the fire.
He taught me to commune with Nature,
with mama, with the giver.
To sit with her,
stand in her waters,
feel her pull,
her dance through the cosmos,
and be in Awe.
What passion he’s ignited,
what light he’s illuminated,
light that guides me,
that allows me to flourish
into my own
True self
My dad gave me his Brunton compass years ago.
It’s good for triangulating;
it’s mirror allows for accuracy;
it’s guided me through thick fog;
from ridge to mountain top;
it allows me to travel with a sense of direction;
a direction to strive toward.
And he’s set the bearing
Toward my heart.
“On every path you walk, carry your stethoscope” he says,
Because what ever you do with love
is well done.
"Thank you Poppa," I say.
“Fo shizzle my shnitzle” he replies.
Forever my poppa,
My daddy.
The River
Surrounded by water:
falling from the sky,
flowing in the river,
coursing through my veins.
Moving without a care,
with the flow, it is the flow.
Soft yet determined and strong,
consuming and eroding,
giving and nurturing.
My clothes become a hinderance,
I shed my layers,
toss them aside.
My toes get wet,
they sink in the mud,
they send piercing
cold through my body,
which tells me to continue.
I step in,
plunge in,
holding my nose,
feeling the fluid, yielding
mass surround me.
What a glorious thing it is to be alive,
to feel, to dare, to chance, to flow.
I am ever grateful to the river.
To Feel
To feel yourself on the earth,
grounded and connected.
So even when your feet leave the ground,
when you climb a tree
and stay there for awhile,
their roots become your own
their depth becomes your depth,
their strength fuels your fire.
To roll in the grass,
down a hill,
dried translucent leaves
weave themselves in your hair,
dirt paints your thighs,
sticks poke your ribs.
I feel it in my stomach,
in my heart.
My mind, my ego quiets,
my body feels it
my body wakes up
my body is alive.
It doesn't last forever, but
it lingers.
Brunch, you know like breakfast and lunch combined
Blessed to share this beautiful meal with Sarah, Simone, Kyle, Jack, and Andrew.
I asked my friends what I should call this meal and Kyle instantly said “Brunch, you know like breakfast and lunch.” And so it was named.
We dined on breakfast tacos with sautéed mushroom and garlic tortillas topped with black beans, slaw, cilantro-garlic-yogurt sauce, a poached egg, Sriracha, and black Hawaiian salt, with baked potato slices and caramelized bell peppers, paired with a massaged kale salad.
Poaching ten eggs in kimchi sauce, mandarin, and vinegar adulterated water
sautéed mushroom and garlic tortillas
kyle stylin’ his new tortilla press
penciled red and napa cabbage, carrots, pink lady apples, sunchokes, slawed with apple cider vinegar, braggs aminos, nutritional yeast, chili garlic sauce, and safflower oil.
tortillas topped with black beans, slaw, cilantro-garlic-yogurt sauce, a poached egg, Sriracha, and black Hawaiian salt, with baked potato slices and caramelized bell peppers, paired with a massaged kale salad.
brunch time!
full bellies
Coffee in the Canyons
A little parting gift for Jared to remind him of his desert roots every morning as he makes his coffee.
To sit in the trenches
To sit in the trenches
and get filthy with mud;
oozing muck between my toes.
I feel soggy, held down
by the weight of rain on my head.
Shivers run through my bones.
Puddles are hooting and hollering;
ecstatic, excited, in full motion.
My reflection is jumbled, confused.
I barely recognize myself.
I barely feel myself.
I lie down,
fully submerging
succumbing
submitting
surrendering.
Rain fills my belly button,
spills over, trickling down the small of my back.
I see myself lying there.
I see the red eyes, the wrinkled hands.
I see the hair standing on end, the inner convulsions.
Yet I stay and cover myself with mud.
I dig deeper, scratching and clawing, my hands go numb
I try my feet, my elbow, my hip.
Desperate to escape
thrashing and tossing myself to exhaustion.
I lie motionless in the trench;
still, quiet, patient.
The downpour within eases
my belly gurgles, my heart beats, my toes tingle
I begin to feel, to see, to breath
As I start to rise,
I faintly hear the wind whisper:
"That which you resist, persists."
Korean Breakfast Tacos!
Korean breakfast tacos with Kyle
Sriracha cilantro corn tortillas, fresh tortillas are the best.
Match stick Napa cabbage, carrots, and onions sautéed in olive and sesame oils, fish sauce, Braggs aminos, and dried thai chilis. Four fried eggs in a nest.
top it off with a kimchi yogurt sauce and fresh cilantro
yummy breakfast with Kyle!
Strawberry Rhubarb Orange Sauce
Made some strawberry rhubarb orange sauce, heat it up and pour over vanilla bean ice cream, spoon some over plain yogurt, or just eat it out of the can! Sweet and tart, just like life. Yum!
cut up all yer strawberries (core the white part if they’re not perfectly ripe)
peel the rhubarb to remove the fibrous outer skin
cook it up with some honey or sugar, I added Cara Cara orange juice and zest
can ‘er up!
Knife Sheaths
My latest little crafting project: knife sheaths.
liza lize 