Tuesday, November 15, 2011


to family, she clings.

family held her together-

through harsh eyes,

judging voices,

and distant friends-

it was always constant,


without family, she thought,

i will shatter.

one day, though,

it stumbled-

was no longer sturdy.

and yet,

still she stood.

she was stronger than she thought.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

growing old

he's engaged in normal conversation,
like every visit they share.
they've come regularly since days of bare feet and braids,
since days of excited footsteps pattering on tile.
now they sit,
texting on their phones as he talks to the tops of their heads.
they nod and say the right things,
always leaving him with an emptiness-
he sees his age in their eyes.
they go through the ritual of playing their latest piano pieces,
his most cherished part of their visits...
for as soon as he hears the nocturne on the out-of-tune keys,

he's a dashing young man clad in a starched uniform,
with gleaming war medals clinking as he walks.
the room is filled with respectful eyes
watching him sip a cocktail while conducting business in murmured words.

then, the front doors open,
and she steps in.
heads turn, and he puts down his drink to take in her presence.
her eyes sparkle as she locks a gaze with him.
she crosses the room,
places her warm hand over his,
and smiles.

with her beside him,
his youth could never be taken away...

the nocturne ends.
the children resume their mechanical conversations
until his granddaughter, their mother, picks them up.
as soon as she arrives,
they softly kiss his cheek and rush out the door.
she walks across the room,
sits next to him,
places her warm hand over his,
and smiles.
she has her grandmother's eyes,
he thinks as they sparkle back at him.
and for now,

he feels young again

cross-posted at Shutter Sisters

Wednesday, August 10, 2011


she sits

with her toes in the sand,
sea water rushing over the tops of her feet,
and sunshine warming her skin...

and yet her mind is elsewhere.
on one shoulder sits Past,
on the other, Future.
her mind travels between the two,
trying and failing to find common ground.
Past lovingly twirls her hair and brushes her cheek
while reminding her of warm memories long forgotten.
Future giggles in her ear with the excitement of what is to come...

and she can't choose.
she looks back at the girl she was with freckles and an uneven bob,
then forward at college applications sitting on her desk at home;
and she doesn't know where to go-
how to move on to resumes and scholarships
when the little girl with dolls in tow is grabbing her hand and pulling her back.

and then a seagull flies by,
and she is in reality once more.
Past and Future have gone,
and for the moment,
she focuses back on the present,
forgetting the visitors on her shoulder...

until their absence is no more,
and they return to their constant home in her mind.

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

a part of


when in france,
she was a stranger,
an outsider.
she didn't belong there
with these people who were all a part of a heritage,
a background.
she was a smudge on the beautiful culture,
not contributing anything-
a tourist,
a foreigner...

she was eating in a quiet cafe,
wishing she could become one with these people
who so interested her.
these people with loose hair and an unmatched zest for life.
she desperately wanted to mesh with them,
to blend with them,
to fit in seamlessly,
but she failed.

it was then that she glanced over in a dark corner of the cafe
and noticed a lonely piano...
her tour guide urged her,
to go.
to play.

and after much head shaking and hustled refusals,
she made her way
with blushed cheeks and shaky knees
to the dark corner.
and as she set down,
she felt the music bleed out of her soul,
the most beautiful music she had ever created.
she poured her love of the country,
her desire to be of the people,
and her yearning to possess the energy around her,
into every chord.

and as she looked around,
they noticed her...
these people who inspired her,
these people whom she wanted so badly to connect with.
and for the first time since her arrival,

she was one of them,
a part of their beautiful culture,

she was finally at home.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

summer supper table

(part of my Unfocused photo series)

clinging forks
constant chirps of sleepy crickets
dim candlelight outlining faces of loved ones
feet casually propped on porch chairs,
draped in beach towels airing dry
fresh vegetables on each plate
and kind conversation
drifting through the air
t-shirts, shorts, and bare feet are worn by all

summer is its best at the supper table

Wednesday, June 15, 2011


the church she had attended her entire life
with her parents and grandparents
who had also been going their whole lives
was a beautiful church-
stained glass full of piercing color
against soft white brick
welcomed any weary visitor.
she would sit in church on sundays,
her view from the choir loft before her,
and she would take in the light filling the room.
the light radiating from warm smiles looking up from the pews,
the light surrounding the melodic mixture of loving voices,
and the light pouring in from the stained glass that took her breath away.
her church was a church of the purest light...

and then one day,
tragedy struck the shining church-
waves of red, orange, and yellow fitfully attacked the soft white brick
and destroyed the precious sanctuary...
she stood outside and watched
as the brave men in heavy suits fought the relentless waves,
as the smoke became suffocating to all those around.
she saw the lines of sadness draw tight across her grandfather's face
as he watched his lifelong home burn.

she couldn't understand why her church of light was falling,
why the purity of her church was being smoldered by ash.
she was angry, hurt, and confused...

but then,
as she looked closer,
she realized the light was still there-
could never go away.

because as she looked past the wailing trucks,
the relentless waves of orange,
and the lingering smog,
the stained glass windows were still there,
still pouring out the most beautiful light from the piercing colors,
untouched by the hateful waves.
and her hopelessness disappeared...

because she knew that this church full of light would never stop shining,
and that they all would rise from the ashes still gleaming-

and they did.

The fire

*Go here to see my documented experience of my church fire

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

it endures

she's still safe

in young age,
he would lead,
she would follow close behind.
she would lean against his firm shoulder,
feeling secure underneath his sure stature.
he would take care of all duties non-domestic;
she would flawlessly cover the domestic ones.
he would strongly make the major decisions for the family,
always backed by her encouraging words,
and filled with plenty of her input, of course.
he was the leader of dinner conversations,
adding in witty and charming comments and making her laugh adoringly.
he took care of her-
she was safe in his arms.

in older age,
she leads,
holding out her hand for him to follow behind.
she masterfully handles all household duties
and makes all decisions-
without a complaint.
she leads all dinner discussions,
carefully repeating important comments to his silent ear.
she takes care of him-
he is safe in her arms...

and although she is now his caretaker,
she still leans against his sure shoulder;
he still grabs her hand with love.
he still makes charming comments,
and she still laughs adoringly.
a proud love still shines in her eyes...

because she'll always be safe in his arms.

Monday, May 23, 2011


Unfocused: A photo series

taking pictures,
she's frustrated.
she sees the moment,
knows what she wants to capture,
but never turning it out quite right...

the lighting is rough,
the focus is all wrong.
all she wants is to portray life-
the life she loves.
the life that is hers.

she soon begins to realize
that these failed pictures,
these pictures that could never amount to anything-
are real.
the blur of the lens

is everything she has been searching for.

I'm starting a project, "Unfocused: A Photo Series," because the unfocused, minimal quality, imperfect and outcast pictures are... who I am.

This is real. This is me. Won't you come along?

*Click the Unfocused tab in the left column for my growing collection

Wednesday, May 11, 2011


french doors

french cafe


as she walked down the streets,
she breathed,
taking in all the smells around her...
the smells of dying cigarettes,
fresh bread,
sweets and perfumes.

she opened her eyes,
seeing the slow,
wonderful pace of the people around her,
the simple enjoyment of everyday life,
the humble, hard-working spirit ingrained into the society.

she perked her ears,
and heard the sounds of children laughing,
of melodic sentences in French tongue,
and of musical smatterings mixing together from musicians housed on different street corners.

and as she lingered slowly,
she felt an urge.
an urge to stay...
to appreciate life,
to grab hold of the rich culture,
to open herself up to the sincere happiness of these people.

and she began to live...

France brought her to life.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

she stares

she stares

as arms constantly reach across her,
scheduling this and scheduling that,
she stares.

she stares at the blur of a life passing her by.
at piano lessons, tennis practices, and dance recitals.
at essays, tests, and meetings.
she stares.

as if she is sitting in the passenger seat,
gazing out the window
and growing yet another day older,
she stares.

but then something happens...
glimmers of light begin to pierce the black and white.
her purpose and blooming future become clear once more.
the arms reaching across her now pull her into an embrace,
and warmth and love fill her soul once more.

and then she stares no longer...

for she sees.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

her dress

she wore this dress in college.
it's still his favorite dress...

her thin, sunned legs dance across the floor.
she smiles and freckles glisten across her face.
her manicured nails wave as she socializes across the room.
her grace, class, and poise are undeniable.
her fox trot is flawless.
all eyes follow her laugh,
her perfect laugh.
the chandelier lights dance across her shining dress.

she makes her way toward the dark end of the room.
he, her stern grandfather, sits alone.
the light follows her kind walk.

and with a sparkle in her eyes, she asks him to dance.
he sets down his cane,
takes one last sip of his lonesome cocktail,
and joins her.
and then all eyes are on the lucky man.

because as she leads him in a flawless fox trot,

he smiles.
and with her shine,

he is glowing.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

the lonely

the lonely

independent, she is.
the quietness of being alone draws her in.
the stillness, it comforts her,
beckoning her to come...
to push others away.

but the stillness becomes painful,
with tears streaming down her face,
she realizes this world she has created is...
the lonely consumes her,
sending chills down her spine.
the lonely rings in her ears like a siren.

the lonely is calling her no more.

Saturday, February 5, 2011

Those girls on the roof

(Caroline, Elizabeth, Taylar)

Here's a post about those girls on the roof from my Shuttersisters post...

Elizabeth is the filler of awkward moments. the lover of all things preppy. my hallmark movie companion. the funny video maker. the sharer of my love for cooking... and eating, most importantly. my trampoline jumping buddy. the cutest cheerleader on the squad. my school night sleepover accomplice. the feeder of gossip on our neighborhood walks. my competitor in bubble gum chewing contests during drama class. the master of making weird (always loud) noises in the cafeteria during lunch. my fellow domestic of the group. the sixth member of our family. the "sheltered" one. my best friend since ninth grade who knows every single thing about me.the one we are all going to miss so much when she graduates in a few months...

Caroline is the instigator of all snide comments. the provider of constant laughing when we're all together. the dangerous driver. the best advice giver i know. the dave matthews band junkie. the paranoid beauty queen. the philosopher. my friend since birth... literally (i'll always be one week older than you, though...) my fellow lover of photography. the girl with the sarcastic but incredibly loving personality all in one. my summer camp buddy all through grade school (she hated every minute of camp life). my fellow indulger of good food. the one who shares my dreams of traveling the world... together. the stealer of the sheets in the middle of the night (she usually ends up with a bed to herself). my soul sister since first grade. the sharer of all my elementary memories. my sweet caroline...

Taylar is my opponent in our "battles of the wits." she is the one who really gets me. the eccentric, gorgeous girl of our group. the girl who can create hilarious comments on command. she is my fellow anticipator of the future. the girl who always knows exactly what is on my mind.. and vice versa. the one who can make me laugh in the pit of my stomach for hours. the holder of millions of inside jokes since middle school. my slightly liberal/slightly conservative political equal. the creator of deep discussions that can last forever. the funky, cool girl. the A+ girl who makes the rest of us slightly jealous. the "go with the flow" one. the girl who shares in my obsession with food (okay, we are all in love with eating). the one who laughs at my (mostly) lame jokes. the one who holds the record for partaking in the most "heart to heart" conversations. the music connoisseur...

these are my three best friends. and all together, we have a bond that will stretch longer than high school as we go our separate ways...

a bond that will last our whole lives.

Thursday, January 27, 2011


Hey everyone! I know I have been MIA around here lately, but I think I just went into hibernation after all this snowy winter mess without even realizing it... I have been a little busy in my absence, however.

Go here to find out why. I'm so blessed to be given this opportunity (thanks to my fabulous aunt) .
I love all of you, and thank goodness I'm back.