it seems selfish to revel in oneself, but i do it unashamedly.
darling d and i spent the weekend in the forest with the amazing b-dill and ay-d. my deep rooted lust for off the grid life left me swollen with cabin-fantasy. i pressed my fingers in to the dirt and bled part of me out there. i left reluctantly, promising myself that this fundamental wide openness was a place i would return to. do we always portion out the most seemingly unattainable thing as a reward for the end of some perceived requirement?
so, i returned to my small corner, and the sun was still shining on the things i love and i felt relieved, as i always do, to find the journey in between full of light.
to pacify my longings, i lay down seed where i can and learn to appreciate it in spite of and because of it's smallness.
these winged babies were dancing with the lantana and lavender verbena in my window box.
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| From Panacea |
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| From Panacea |
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| From Panacea |
the mint that i planted exploded (as mint is wont to do) and now cascades down the side of my building.
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| From Panacea |
in spite of the forceful nature of its neighbor, the basil is thriving in its own space.
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| From Panacea |
and i never knew they blossomed.
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| From Panacea |
these tinies appeared one morning in my window box.
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| From Panacea |
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| From Panacea |
those are the things that i'm growing. and this is what i'm no longer growing.
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| From Panacea |
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| From Panacea |
i couldn't resist the urge to shear myself any longer. so, i chopped off all my hair.
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| From Panacea |
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| From Panacea |
i like to think of it as a celebration of the restlessness of the season, the pushing towards a change, the pagan new year. but maybe it's just a restlessness of myself and an expectation of, but incapability to act upon, great things in the works.
i'm not sure. but i do feel more at ease.
