First Snow, First Quilt

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First official quilt I’ve ever had enough patience to complete. The satisfaction is real. I don’t want to give it away. But, alas, all good things must end.

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I just love these cabins so much. Much less creepy to take pictures of them in the winter because no one is living in them.

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Almost the mark of the beast. The bite of the beast, perhaps?

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Mona on high alert.

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Pretty and dying.

Stomp and see

Things are finding me. Which is pleasant. I’ve always been a Romantic like that. I’m open.

Picked up this Walt Whitman bio from Caliban bookstore in Pittsburgh a couple months ago. I was drawn to it. Green is my favorite color. Thick books make me salivate. When I opened the cover I saw the lovely drawing and I was certain I wouldn’t regret the purchase. Was never deep into Whitman, though I am cognizant that he is a spirit that has followed me throughout my teenage and adult life. Figured I should start following him in return. A mutual soul-stalking if you will.

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First edition, 1926

Walt is encouraging my inner wanderer. She’s always been there, but I’m sure she could use a hell of a lot more breathing room. Less anxiety and worry. Less pressure. Kicking against the pricks.

I walk every day during my lunch break. Sometimes I have lovely company, sometimes I go it alone. An hour doesn’t seem like a very long time for introspection and observation. I suppose it depends on what you do with that hour. It can go really fast. It can slowly drag on. Time is relative like that (that’s right, I said it. Throw your watch on the fire…maybe, that’s a little hasty, but whatever).

What things can you see in an hour? Where can you go? Just wander aimlessly. It’s freeing. Crank some tunes and find out! Walked an old familiar way, but I managed to see new things.

(MusicĀ of choice this gloomy afternoon is Mitski’s new album “Puberty 2″…exquisite, by the way, holy hell).

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Today’s soundtrack.

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An eye in an alleyway. Big Brother is watching; maybe some less sinister like Mr. Walt Whitman from the Great Beyond.

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View through a fence through the trees of an old and mossy bridge.

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An old skateboard abandoned in the back of a discarded truck bed lining. And my feet.

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Beautiful GREEN moss on the tree near the skateboard scene. Everything’s coming up green.

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Geese on the move.

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Groundhog #1

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He thought this camouflage maneuver was sneaky.

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I didn’t know this notebook changed color in the heat.

I sat by the water for a bit and watched a playful Chihuahua wearing a bandana chase his tail in the grass. His owner, a thin, older man, gleamed just as much joy as I did from watching the little turd having the time of his life. I smiled as I walked back to work. Vibes in the air, y’all.