Friday, May 30, 2008

My wonderland

When I moved to Colorado, nearly two years ago now, I discovered something amazing: The closest to heaven It is humanly possible to be. Waking up to the site of mountains is probably the most stunning thing In all the world. When the clouds aren't in the sky, but rather in your back yard. when talking to the wind seems a
regular habit, Because it is such an alive force here.
Fall is captivating, With aspen turning golden and maples showing off their red coats. Halloweens running through the pumpkin patch, where the dryness of an almost desert land brings out every little smell. From the apple butter and cider being sold, to the pines who never loose their leaves.
snow comes and goes, nearly all year. And though I will often complain about the cold and wet, the first snow Is an amazing thing. Like winter faeries coming to the earth, they whirl around in snow flake dresses bringing with them the mad buzz of hot chocolate, peppermint bark, And christmas carols coming from every car radio in the town.
But in all four seasons, none are as beautiful as spring. When snow only comes in fazes, And the smell of flowers is everywhere. Birds chirp, awakening from a cold winter. fresh water is finally running, and you can practically taste the pollen. Everything is awakening, and this is where I've decided My home is the closest to heaven: after being faced with the dead of winter, It is reborn into spring. Reborn into a new world, light and beautiful.


Ringing through me like my whole world is shaking, beautiful waves running through my fingers going up.. up.. Ringing out through my mouth. I release the sound and let it flow onward. Out into the world, My creation lingers only a few seconds then softly, falls back down into oblivion. Letting go, Only to be reborn again with the next Push of those white and Black keys. We are one being, me and the music. I let it become me, and i become it. Nothing matters. Nothing while I am this other person, this new and stunning person who is one with this sound. This Is who I am, and who I want to be. I am so beautiful, we all are so beautiful when covered in these shimmering notes, gliding through the air. Harmonies... Yes, harmonies. That is what I'm trying to create.

Sunday, May 25, 2008


I ran today... I could finally feel the wind through my hair. Every breath I took, The blood flowing through my veins. The smell of the wet earth. The caw of the crows. The feel of the sunshine. The encouraging smile of the clouds. That is all I could feel. I was aware of everything, but not aware of the real world. The sounds of people laughing behind me all died, died away. Carried away by the wind. The looks people always give me like ’shes flipped her lid again’ went away. I couldn’t think of that. couldn’t think what other people thought. But I was aware of a different sort of everything. The everything that we don’t normally notice. I came less then three feet from a flock of crows, They were singing. It was so beautiful yet so ugly. I wish I was one of them, So I wouldn’t always fly alone. so that no matter what happened, my flock was always behind me. They were there though, it seemed they followed me all day. When I was walking home from the bus stop, they were There. Watching. Singing. flying. and the weirdest part was, they were right next to a group of dear. it was like they were talking to each other. Dear, Crow, Dear, Crow...... How gorgeous it was! How I longed, more then ever to take part in it. To run, and relish in it. and watch as my running took flight. To see my blond hair transform to feathers, Every shade of midnight... To fly, black as night, against the sunshine. To be free. When I ran today, I felt really free. Like I was in charge. Like any direction I went, I went. I was there. I wasn’t just... there. Just walking through life, smiling In my dumb haze. Feeling nothing, regretting everything. No. Not that feeling. I wasn’t forced into the walls of that dumb pointless blindness, But I was A bird. And A bird I will stay. I can still feel the adrenaline coursing through me. And until this feeling stops, I am a bird.

Friday, May 23, 2008


I was sitting there, swinging on the rusty metal swings in the park, listening to the wind. I closed my eyes and I could feel it. not just the wind blowing past me, but I could here it speaking. There were voices. There were words, Whispering to me. I could feel it. I still had my eyes closed, because It is the only way I can truly hear it. it is the only thing I concentrate on. Just the wind, Fast fast wind. If you know anything about me, you know that I sing more then I talk. But I didn't want to sing. My voice just didn't fit. Didn't sound right with it. I could hear The cars passing, and the water flowing in the creak. I could hear it, and suddenly it was a song. The wind was whispering the lyrics to me quietly, while the cars were taking the percussion, a gentle swoosh!.every once and a while. The water was the woodwinds, Sweet and delicate, Almost lost but somehow still commanding the melody. It was so beautiful. I was sitting there, swinging and smiling In my own little blissful state, while the dog walkers lurking in the back of the park were attempting not to stare at me. I must have looked something awful, laughing to myself, swinging with my eyes closed. But I don't care. that is who I am. And then, The wind stopped. Just as it stopped, I knew I had to. I pushed my feet into the rocks and slowed my swing. Then I lept off and walked quickly as I could to the side of the water and sat down on the edge of the bank. I was watching as the water hit the rocks, and ricocheted in the other direction. Going everywhere. The water Is so free, yet trapped. why is it that it is always moving together? It is so funny. How planned it is. But it looks so free! I want to go back now, to pick up water in my hands, and throw it in the grass. But then again, that would not be the water moving itself, that would be me moving it. That would be me, deciding it was time for it to break off. It was so calming to watch all the rocks, being softly pushed over by the water. Year after year, ground being eroded and eroded by the water. how will this look in a million years? Will the water wash away the mountains? will the not stand so tall? Will they just... fall?
Once the wind picked up again, I knew it was time to go home. It carried me home, until I came upon a beach ball. Yes, you heard me right, a beach ball. just lying on the side of the road. So if anyone is reading this who is missing a beach ball, sorry If I accidentally stole yours. I mean, It was all alone sitting there on the side of the road and no one was around to claim it, so I decided to take it home with me. I felt bad for it. and anyway, it is sitting here right now next to me.