"It would be possible to describe everything scientifically, but it would make no sense; it would be without meaning, as if you described a Beethoven symphony as a variation of wave pressure."

albert einstein

photo.

almost there.

this morning i awoke.

and i hurt.

everywhere.

as though i had managed to sleep funny. all-over.

as though i had just run a marathon. climbed a mountain. pushed my body to the limits of extremity.

my friend anne said it's probably stress resolving itself. surfacing before it exits the body.

perhaps it is knowing that this (this utah adventure of mine) ends tuesday morning. knowing that this adventure which was harder than i ever dared imagine--that this adventure which forced more questions than answers--this adventure which revealed thousands of new things--this forced-boil--is almost over.

it has been impossible. this adventure. i'm not going to lie and say it has been anything less than impossible. and for i who lean toward the histrionic, this statement does not even approach hyperbole.

but it has been an adventure. of that i am sure. and for that i give thanks as i slowly and quietly massage the pain up and out, up and out.

thinking back. (and some much needed color on the blog).

it was a year ago now that i winged my way across the atlantic to australia. a year ago. to visit with my friend stevie before he eloped to hawaii. to fall in love with his fiancee miriam. to fall in love with lattes and mochas and infused australian light.

this morning with nothing to do i paged through my photos. allowing those year-ago feelings to wash over me.

so indulge me. here is the australia i loved. one year later.

humble offerings.

"A leaf fluttered in through the window this morning, as if supported by the rays of the sun, a bird settled on the fire escape, joy in the task of coffee, joy accompanied me as I walked."

anais nin

the air here feels--smells like october in texas. i have just a week left in utah before i head home (to where the buffalo rome) and then onward to new york. life is simultaneously crawling and hurtling. time is pliable, like taffy, stretching in all directions at once. and if find myself thankful for the little things. like cool autumn air.

i've not been a great blogger this summer. i know this. but sometimes things are hard. hard in a way that writing does not assuage or elucidate. hard in a way that privacy becomes necessary. so forgive me. please, forgive me. i'm learning, you know? and i'll get better.

image.

space. and his silence.

there have been two boys (two men, i suppose) that i have cared for. deeply.

two boys (men) who i think of.

though, not often.

not anymore at least.

but two nights ago i dreamt of one. and then today i thought i saw the other.

my mind must be sorting. figuring out where to place these two phantom figures.

and because the cup of the subconscious runneth over (so to speak), i (against my wishes) find myself thinking (consciously?) about both. with one i talk and argue and laugh and with the other we begin in silence.

and that silence is enough. always it is enough.

and so it goes. the two daydreams. the words and banter and laughter v. absolute quiet.

and the thing is, every time--every. single. time. the quiet wins. there is such peace, such love in a world where no words are needed.

image via flickr: eylul aslan