.even the stars fade to gray.even the stars hide away.

the eastern winds blow cold and even colder. sometimes I hear your melody in the breeze passing over me. its almost as if I can see your smile in the clouds overhead. I long to hear your voice. your messages propel me into a tunnel of electric colors that embrace and shock me simultaneously. 

I have been painting a lot. I spend my evenings tired inside my bones. my limbs ache with a longing feeling to melt into the morning sunrise and wash the midnight blues away. only in swirling the blues and reds together in search of the perfect violet to match my past does my mind find solace. I have been trying to write, but lately my thoughts are scattered and empty. I feel a deep peaceful loneliness that runs thick and sticky through my blood.

I was given a small brown samsonite  case that looks just like an old blue one I used to have. it was purchased for three dollars at a garage sale three weeks ago. it serves as my portal into my smile on the inside. I filled it with letters, post cards, cadmium flavored acrylic paints, water colored envelopes waiting to be mailed and multi colored hemp string. the collaged wall next my bed is slowly growing as images from my present fit jagged next to memories and letters from my past. I get mail occasionally and my heart defrosts for a day. florida has been a challenging and inspiring time. sometimes I watch the stars migrate across the horizon and I imagine riding the waves of the california coast. call it the winter blues or too much cat power pandora, but I wish I could touch your face.

‘you peer inside yourself and take the things you like, and try to love the things you took. And then you take the love you made, and stick it into someone else’s heart, pumping someone else’s blood. And you walk on, hoping it doesnt get harmed. but even if it does, you’ll just do it all again.’

I dream only in black and white. I remember very little of them, and from what I do recall, I am left with a racing heart and trapped, fragmented pictures. maybe I am dreaming through you. do you hear my song?

lost in transit

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

into the unknown

(……)

i want to paint your story.

i want to hear your song.

i want to believe in your note. 

write to me.

i promise to write back.

146 cochise court, palm coast, FL 32137

i.am.in.love

spiritual

practice

I am filled   with you. I am filled   with you.

I am filled   with you. I am filled   with you.

I am filled   with you. I am filled   with you.

six days a week

at night I watch the planes fly overhead. i sit under the atrium that is our outside patio and watch the layers of lights float across the darkened horizon. i see a rainstorm of shooting stars as i let my eyes marinate in the unknown of the sky above. last night we let the current take us as we floated on the skiff across the canal like molasses dripping from a maple tree. i could feel the branches’s sway with the gentle breeze that blew warm against my body. with the moonlight reflecting upon the water, i wondered if this was the feeling that people write songs about.

i sleep on a thin but soft twin size mattress atop the carpeted floor. i have one navy blue comforter blanket which i fold in half, drape my spanish sarong on top of, and sleep inside. next to my bed rests a stack of books, the i ching, chap stick, a sketch pad, a box of water color paints and oil pastals, crisp white envelopes waiting to be filled, a bar of dark chocolate and my few crystals. above my head  hangs a painted wooden plaque with two fairies glittering above me, a blue and violet painted paper seahorse with the word’s ‘i love you’ written in black sharpie, a polaroid of the california coast, a drawing of a compass rose and a necklace with a court’s crystal and amber sun embracing true love and protecting my dreams. i sleep very little. i often find myself awake once everyone has gone to sleep at night, and sometimes awake before the house has begun to stir. these are the quiet times when i am reminded of the many reasons i am here. i look outside at our 76′ sail boat which transforms exponentially and I see the dream that has inspired so many. the boat has been gutted, stripped, framed, carpeted, rigged and still has a very long list of things left to be done. we have had one challenge after the next as things always pop up that were never anticipated. each afternoon we push through the humid heat that hangs like heavy clouds upon my skin. as our departure date nears and the image of sailing 9 knots across the Caribbean ocean sparkles through my imagination, i am humbled by the true beauty and infinite potential that lies in each morning sunrise.  in every heartache, through every growing pain, there is a golden light that embraces the lesson.

something recent

photo by justin lewis - from the top of the mast

the DC system

 

 

former bilge rat, now electric eel

I electrocuted myself two days ago with a 60V shock while dismantling the boats main AC circuit breaker box. I suppose it was my official initiation into this project. After ten nights of bug bites, long days of power washing in the bilge, and my trips to WalMart being the awaited adventures of my week, I finally feel at home. I woke up this morning to the intoxicating scent of brewing coffee and curled myself out of bed to bake blueberry muffins. I smiled as I felt the first day of cool breeze blowing through the kitchen window. I welcomed the coming of the Florida fall, and I felt free.

After three days down in the bilge, the bottom part of the boat underneath the floor boards, I have been appointed as one of three electricians on board. now let me be honest for a second. at first, I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. if I may continue to be honest, I admit I still have mountains left to climb. however as I make mistakes, recognize the breaks in the circuit, and understand the connection between all that exists, I am developing a serious love affair with electricity. graham and I work tirelessly, with ryan making us do it over again, and I like it more by the minute. yesterday we dismantled the DC box, measured amperage for the boats lights, pumps, and bridge electronics, rewired the circuit board, and finally, installed it. i am going to start advertising my services on craigs list as a household electrician. just kidding. seriously kidding, but hey, a girl can dream.

down in the bilge, day 1

live by the sun, love by the moon

faith is a powerful noun. laughing is the purest verb. and as for an adjective – well, beautiful. and beautiful, such is life. the sun rises and sets each coming day without fail. with the promise of a new day, we dance in sync to the rhythm of nature and all her glory. i often find myself taken by this magnificence. tonight i watched from the bridge of the boat as dusk filled the sky with rich purples and oranges. the clouds reflected the tree tops atop the palm coast Florida canal and i wondered how a view of such simplicity could be so arresting. i yearned for a way to bottle up that moment in time and save it with me forever. i captured the image and placed it neatly into a thick oak wooden frame and placed it gently into my memory under the heading: life i hope to never forget. as i reached around for an actual camera to capture the horizon, i realized my attachment to this fleeting sunset that elegantly draped the not so distant skyline. I forgot. a dear friend once told me nature knows no boundaries, no restrictions, and no therefore, no attachments. what exists in this very instant will have already changed by the time we have seemingly soaked it all in, and we are left with only our own associations to the rolling hills and crashing waves. but if nothing lasts in this evolving world, how are we to make sense of it. what gives us meaning if not meaning itself. when i truly pause to soak up the fragrance of life, i catch a glimpse of the secret. if i can learn to admire and let go in the same moment, my heart may finally rest. so as the crescent moon began to rise and the sky sparkled with bright white lights of history past, i felt the calm fill my body. to accept and release, without attachment, desire or expectation, only then can we find solace in the setting sun. for the ending of something is always the beginning of something else.

      

the ripple affects