I skim old messages of compromise that lead onto realizing what it is I want. Rather like an old flame you just can’t give up. Here I am again, annoyingly so writing and singing perhaps the same tune. Attempts at walking away from this blog and starting a new have not meshed. Oh how I love this blog and the stories that never turn out. Oddly so, I adore discomfort. That ache that never subsides.

Delight is in this painful rewind. Courageously so, it is in the embarrassment that we fail. Over and over again, we let ourselves down. Only to say so be it lets get up. Be good do good and then do the absurd. Laugh, dance, challenge that notion that will never be quo. The heart is glad we are back. Typing on keys that rest at go. It is not about strategy and places of tenses that fancy.

Hands flap in a dance. Like playing a turn that riffles the sniffles. It was about talking about days gone by and a past that can never lift a skirt to flirt. Twirling without end. What do you want to do? Run through the night between traffic lights and go beyond the fear and dive into a dark sea.

Drove to Holland Michigan 12 hours to take my great aunt out for lunch and go for a walk. Turned around after church the next day and headed home. I stopped by a lovely antique mall. Standing in the bathroom loving the mirrors.

Picked up a vintage vanity bag to use as my sewing box.

My best passengers are the ones that do not talk and come along with the ride with their own memories and fun.

Cleaning up my studio requires a bit of wine filled inspiration back in Baltimore and loving this new Chapter that involves the Bromo Clock Tower and the Maryland Historical Society.