The Waste Land and coming to terms with reality.

I used to be a real writer. Not so much anymore. Now I just rattle on about baking pies and my new stationary.

Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.	30
Frisch weht der Wind
Der Heimat zu,
Mein Irisch Kind,
Wo weilest du?
“You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;	35
They called me the hyacinth girl.”
—Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,
Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,	40
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.

TS. Eliot - The Wateland

New Beginnings

My spectacular boyfriend always encourages me to pursue what I love. I love to write. So, for my 25th birthday I got this new writing machine. (A Macbook Air) Here's to a productive 25 and sharing what I love with people who may enjoy the same kind of stuff, too.

Me on my 25th birthday (July 30) just before getting my new writing machine during our dessert course at Ad Hoc in Yountville.