dunes

   

These photos put me in a dreamy state. They remind me of the dunes near to where I grew up in central California. Props to Cuba Gallery for capturing these.

fathers tender kisses

 

(Source: her name is moon)

As I was on a boat back to Venice from a nearby island, I noticed a husband and wife with their two kids sitting near me. The husband either previously had an accident or developed a syndrome because he struggled to walk and could hardly maintain balance. His wife, while keeping an eye on the children, tenderly grasped his fragile arm helping him onto his seat. A few moments pass and I glance over to see them holding hands, smiling at each other. My heart melted at this moment. I cannot imagine their day to day challenges, but their love for each other and their family evidently makes them stronger. 

At the table next to theirs I noticed a middle-aged man holding close to his chest his sleeping two-year-old girl. She started to wake as we approached the dock and her father immediately embraced her and sprinkled her cheeks with sweet tender kisses. He rubbed his nose on her pink cheek and wiped the sweat from her damp forehead. I don't think I've ever seen a father express that much love to their little girl before. I couldn't help but notice his wedding ring was on his right ring finger.  What if he is a widower? What if when he looks at her he sees his wife? What if she is all he has in this world? 

What strong individuals! What examples they are!

This caused me to miss home and want to embrace and snuggle every single person I love. 

one more futterer

 

At the beginning of the summer Jeff and I packed up his car, picked up my grandfather, and headed up the mountain for a fishing/camping trip on the Kern River. Once the sun fell we huddled over the camp fire and the Sequoias were peering over us like quiet protectors.  I thought it was an appropriate time to ask him when he wanted to start a family, especially because I've been wanted to ask him this for years.  He calmly uttered, "Welp, when I've got the right girl and the timing is right," I responded with, "Well, I just think you'd make a wonderful father".

It's a fond memory of mine for many reasons, one of them being that, thorough recent knowledge, that will have been the last camping trip we'll take together without his family coming along with us. 

My uncle is having a baby and getting married to a beautiful person, inside and out. I beam with happiness just at the thought of him becoming a father and taking care of his own munchkin. He was a wonderful example to me and I'm forever in debt to his kindness and love, his child is eternally blessed to have him as a father. 

   Cutest fetus I've ever seen. 

He's a natural--that blanket currently resides on my bed.

Gilda

I've replaced Michael with a newer model, meet Gilda.

 

She's not allowed on the couch...

...

river love

            

I've always loved Angus, whether he's singing with Julia or solo. He does something here with his voice I've yet heard him do. It's wonderful.

Maybe, just maybe

I've been in Italy for just over a month now, living with a family and enjoying the quiet peace Tuscany brings to my soul. This quiet (when their 130 lb Great Dane isn't pouncing on me) encourages a lot of reading, reflection, some blank moments, and many pensive ones. The other day I had a bit of an awakening. I found myself reminiscing of High School; the experiences I had, the people I was friends with and those I was not, the people who judged me and those I judged. 

In these awkward pubescent four years of my life, I felt belittled and unrecognized for my qualities.  My boyfriend of the time would often comfort me with these words, "They just don't understand you". This was just one of the many things that justified my decision to live in misery. 

Even till this day my "no one understands me" attitude sticks with me like a leach on warm flesh. It has got to go! 

Maybe, just maybe, my High school experience sucked because I allowed it to. Maybe, just maybe, there was constant drama and tension in my home because I created it. 

Maybe, just maybe, I do not believe anyone understands me because I have not taken the time to understand them.

This

 
               

imagine

In some way, this image inspires me, invigorates me, and gives me hope.

seeing

As the trees do hum
And the oak bends as willow
Will the birds take flight

a new year, a new mountain

 This summer in Italy my pop and I hiked up to a place called "Buco di Montepertuso" meaning hole in the mountain. As we were hiking up the stairs, feeling parched and fatigued, we knew there was purpose in our journey. Once we reached the top my heart swelled and I became overcome with joy at the sight. We looked out over a small town off the Almalfi Coast called Positano; it was incredibly beautiful as the sun was descending, putting the community to rest.

Mountains are magnificent, wondrous, metaphorical, symbolic, and absolutely captivating. They are thought of as being challenges to overcome, obstacles to climb, and ambition to conquer.

I already feel as though this year is a mountain waiting to be climbed, and I am at the bottom looking up at the peak laughing with sheer delight as well as gasping for air at what is ahead. 

“Give me this mountain” (Josh. 14:12).

I can't wait for the moment when I've reached to top, but I also am prepared for the journey up the montepertuso!

restless

I've grown restless, as has the sea.

alive

Our emotions serve great purpose; they are the strength and the weakness, they allow expression of ones innermost identity, while their presence testifies that we are still alive.

A friend of mine was telling me her grandma’s notable, yet challenging life story. She survived World War II, saw her best friend killed, and later discovered her husband had been unfaithful. Recently, being frail and lonely, she attempted suicide.

I think of my great-grandpa who is still alive and thriving at the age of 92, and all the stories he shares with me about his youth are mostly anecdotes of the war. It is hard to relate to these memories of his, especially when they are embedded with loss.  

He is a stubborn old man, who cannot finish a sentence without somehow implementing “Goddamn it” as a way of further proving his point. He remembers being deported here on Oahu, many years ago, and can still remember the exact address of his home here on the Island, which beach it was near, and the fact there was no strip mall bordering the shoreline.

As I listen to these stories and attempt to comprehend their individual situations and trials, it all seems fictitious.It is hard, at times, to see the big picture and realize how blessed we all really are.

Another good friend of mine brought up the fact that he has lived a life where he’s been able to eat three meals a day—this amazes him—when so many all over the world are barely able to scrounge a meal a week.Sometimes I catch myself complaining or getting down on myself about the smallest issues/problems, which to the majority of the world would be laughable.

I feel that everyone has moments when the natural emotion of sadness overcomes them, regardless of what exactly their current situation is. Those who have no real problems to worry about, feel the need to worry about the small insignificant things because it justifies this innate feeling of sadness. Many think that feeling sad is a bad thing, or that it somehow needs to be remedied. I disagree; we feel these things to remind us that we are alive, living, breathing creatures; that we have the ability to be compassionate, empathetic, sorrowful, and with that, joyful.

2 Nephi 2: 23 “…having no joy for they knew no misery: doing no good, for they knew no sin” 

I have learned to acknowledge these emotions and allowed them to resonate within me; these emotions are my soul speaking to my body letting me know that I am still alive.

[St. Paul] told us to be not only "as harmless as doves," but also "as wise as serpents." 
-C.S. Lewis

bedhead

"You can fool all the people some of the time. You can even fool some of the people all of the time. But you can't fool all of the people all the time." -Abraham Lincoln

I chose this picture of Abe because all the others portray him as a stiff, bearded man with a neat comb-over. This photograph seems more like the true Abe-a real man, bedhead and all.

constant battle

A group of my friends were discussing life decisions and having the ability to find the balance between realism and spiritualism. We came to this conclusion: 

If you follow your heart, logic will eventually find its place; if you choose logic, your heart may never follow.

                  

“One sees clearly only with the heart. Anything essential is invisible to the eyes.” -Richard Howard

  

Where I'm From

I am from the swing on Maddie Road,

From salty air and sand in my toes

I am from play dough stuck on the table

(sticky and tempting to eat)

I am from bougainvillea blooming on the porch,

the red like crimson scarlets its way around the fence

Like my ever growing twisted life

I am from grandmas Little Cafe

From chicken tacos and apple pie

I am from no you can't and yes you can

From shut up and I love you

I'm from moving boxes and packing tape

And a new found home where i'd hope to fit in great

I'm from many mothers, many fathers, and many friends

From Moondogies, Pismo Beach, and surfers without a leash

From Micky Mouse and Looney tunes and good old papa bear watching over Baloo

Down in the basement sit suitcases full of Barbie toys

Baby Barbie, teenage Barbie, and one day adult Barbie

There are outfits of old and outfits of new

I am from Birthday cards

From love on paper and tears in an envelope

I am from a life rubbed raw and a room of cards filled with memories

And there are still cards to be written

2010

like a dream to me...

It's so strange how listening to certain artists/songs/albums bring back memories which you thought were forgotten. The best ones are those you didn't even realize you had stored up there, but randomly come flooding back.

Madonna, especially these two songs, just did this to me.

I can still feel the fabric seats of my Ma's Honda Civic, smell the coffee on her breath as I watch her hot cup spilling while we turn a corner, I can see the blue cover of Madonna's "Ray of Light" album, and hear the songs blasting as I am being dropped off at school, lunch box in hand.

Pop

I have a real special relationship with my father- one that most do not quite understand. My father and I are a lot alike, its strange how much I am my fathers daughter. Since my parents had me at the young age of 19, it seemed as though I was growing up with them- experiencing and discovering the same wonders of life. 

              

One thing I love most about my pop is that he can always tell when something is up, especially with me. Every time I am anxious and stubbornly denying that I am, he grabs my hands so see if my palms are sweaty. Many of my greatest memories and lessons learned are those which I have shared with him. He sent me off to college over a year ago with this advice, --

 "Remember the simple things, don't stress because 86% of things we worry about never happen, and last but not least, smile...it makes everything fall into place." 

Today is my Pop's birthday. My pop is quite a strange bird, always trying to please others. Every May, when it is my day to celebrate, he always stresses about what he can do to make it the best one yet. In turn, I always stress about what I can do for him that will, in the least, express gratitude. 

Untitled

I thank you for my anxiousness 

I thank you for my small bone structure 

I thank you for my ability to read people

and to speak my mind 

I thank you for my health

I thank you for my steadfastness

and desire to learn 

I am grateful for my nose

my big ears

my Flintstones tones

and yes, my buck teeth

I am thankful for you

and all you are 

no-frills

                   

Something about this video invigorates me. It may be the empty, never ending road, the lonely trees, Angus's whistling, the fact that it's lyrically endearing and reminds me of when I was young being walked by my uncles barefoot along railroad tracks, or the kumbaya and dancing 'round the camp fire. Regardless of what exactly it is, I now know exactly what my heart desires.

The enigmatic life I long to live is full of adventures and lightly sprinkled with rationalism. Why not pack up an old RV and explore into the unknown country roads? Why not embrace the joys that come from sweet simplicity?

Wherever I'll go, I'll take a bit of it with me. So much of the world is patiently waiting to be captured in brief, yet beautiful moments of appreciation.

Ethan Burnes