Tuesday, September 28
less violence, more violins.
Monday, September 20

when that window becomes a door




Hello lovelies tripping on the same old dirt pile, and hello lovelies dancing on new waters. The evening air sits in my room, two wooly socks on my feet, and I'm still feeling below 0. This weather has me wanting cheerful cloudless beaches like never before.



How am I. I wish I could send love notes to the world, but I'm ill. ill in all stretches of the word. My head is spinning. The world is spinning. I feel as though my days are nothing but a window. A window that I watch through, seeing all that life could be. I want optimism to leak through the faucets in which I bathe. I want the clouds, the animals, the i love you's, the temperamental weathers, I want everything, I want anything. I just want all of these things to bring me what I need. And I know not what I need. Just wellness.

I'll keep writing, eating oatmeal, and listening to Josh Ritter until that window becomes a door. Where do you go to pretend?







After it all, life is strange. Strange like the stranger who greets you in the grocery store, and reminds you of an octopus, an ex lover, or a friend you knew before. How is it, that with such a big world, with so many faces, so many creatures.... Everyone reminds you of someone, something. And whats worse, Why are there so many people who remind you of things you'd rather forget? Life is strange.





Inside of me, there's a wanderer. Longing to get lost. I need footprints in the dirt, and waves in my ocean. When life begins to sing songs of routine, I become lonely. Not only lonely for new hands, or new faces, but new feelings. I need to travel. I need to create my own world. I need to find the self in me I haven't found yet.





I can't stay too sad when I have hearts dancing on my tights. And my pa's fedora on my head... and love in my heart... and a tambourine to shake..

Happy reading! Love and good weather for you all!xoxoxoxo




boots; the bay $80
tights; wet seal $6
skirt; top shop $14
dads hat; zara
jacket; thrifted $5
Sunday, September 19
Sunshine, and flowers. Bookshelves, and dreaming. What in the world am I going to do for today?




Updating the blog with outfit photo's today. The weather is dreary.
.... I think the clouds are asking me for a nap,

and that's exactly what i'm about to do.. nap.

goodbye morning,
see you in the afternoon lovelies.
Friday, September 10

freedom hangs like heaven over our heads





Happy Saturday mail carriers, lovestruck loners, and lazy dogs. I'm sitting by an imaginary fire. It's cloudy and dark out. I could waste my time wishing for the sun. But I'd rather wish for flavors of strawberry, warm hands, friendly faces, populated avenues....





A month or two ago, my dad purchased color filters for my camera. Two days ago, me and my mom shared an adventure that included chocolate flavored tea, delicate desserts, and exploring those filters. Our photo adventure began with dandelion bliss, rolling through grassy fields, and watching sailboats as they pass. It ended two hours...two hundred pictures later...



There's something in the air, something in the language of the clouds translating the changing seasons. Good-bye Summer air. Hello- Autumn palette. When I was young, a fleeing summer meant a fleeing happiness. I don't know why. Maybe it had to do with the cold air. Maybe it had to do with the ringing school bells. Maybe it was the sudden curfews, the dry hands, the cold feet. Or surely it was the dying of flowers, the birds spreading wings, the grass not so green. The sun not so bright. The clock not so free. Spring will always be my favorite. Spring's vocabulary is full of welcome home's, I've missed you so, I'll watch you grow. Spring means renewal, and mud, I love mud. What's Autumn? Autumn is the artist. Painting the meadows in deep browns, electric oranges, bright yellows.



Belonging to my anatomy is a life full of warm hearts, warm bodies, and warm love. No matter the season, or how crisp the autumn air is on my flesh, I will always feel the warmth. If I were a bird, with capable wings, I surely wouldn't migrate. This life I'm living is too good.

P.S Autumn weather equals wooly sweaters,
and big boots,
and faux fur,
and thick socks,
and thick knits,
and earthly colors...
and...
and...
a bohemian girl's favorite fashions..yippy!











"When autumn comes, she'll be there
Jasmine still in her hair
Her tea leaves dry by the sea

Many men behind her door
Have heard the bathtub run and longed to love her
And though she doesn't wait for me
We never ask the time when we're together. "



boots- the bay $80
socks- winners $7
top- urban outfitters $20
skirt- tj max $12



peace
and love
and teas
and beds
and deep blue seas
where we rest our heads.
Thursday, September 9

needlework and seedlings




Talk of yesterday, and I will tell you of temperamental skylines in sequence with my heart. I will tell you of loneliness, longing, and imminent departures. Talk of yesterday, and I will sing to you songs of solitude, and empty rooms expanding towards the infinite. Talk of yesterday, and I will tell you of silence, and internal conversations. I will speak to you of blindness, and dim skies. I will tell of you no moon, no stars, just space.

Speak of today, and I will tell you of burning magic and precocious eyes. I will tell you of statuesque skylines, and celestial conversations. Speak of today, and I will tell you of patterns, and languages that make sense. Speak of today, and I will tell you of wings, and sentences that spout like waterfalls. I will speak to you of vivid dreams, and vivid lines. Speak of today, and I will tell you of gates to gardens, flowers in bloom, voices in ballad, and poems on a page. I will tell you of moonlit windows, luminescent constellations, and the sound of hearts beating. Speak of today, and I will tell you. I am real. I am full. I am well.


















send a letter to whatswithamy@hotmail.com :)

much love....