Roadtrip

Some of my favorite childhood memories were the days I spent camping by the sea. It was there where I learned how to love the natural world and not be afraid or ignorant of it. I can remember how soft the marshmallows tasted after twirling around the open fire pit, they were always too soft or slightly burnt but we were just happy to be alive in the summertime.
  
On June twenty fifth, Carter and I will be leaving for an adventure of our own a journey through the mountains and blackberry bushes until we reach the sea on Vancouver Island. We bought a van, turned the back seat into a shelter, saved our coins, booked our campgrounds, laughed at the odds of it all coming true and now we're counting down the few days left before we say goodbye to our nest and call ourselves ocean bound.

For all of July, my alarm clock will be the wavering pine and the sun rising above my shoulders. In the afternoon, when my cheeks are rosy from the morning light, I will hike the woody trail, swim in the seawater, or fall asleep to the birds singing. I will have evening for watching firewood shrink when it kisses the fire and I will have Carter to play music and moonlight card games with me.

There will be very few showers, certainly no bubble baths, only the seawater to make us feel clean. If you have any favorite camp fire recipes or songs, please share them with us.  :)


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the bark and blossom

The blossoms are so brightly lit and friendly at this time of year. I stand below them and let their fragrance surrender to the springtime heat, it makes me wonder what my life would be like in a place where flowers don't grow and then I tell myself I shouldn't wonder about such things because it makes me feel too sad. I will always try to remember the way a family of flowers growing on a tree makes me see the world as a forgiving and beautiful place. Some people walk right passed these trees without even noticing, but maybe they are the lucky ones, for they have nothing to miss when the trees go away.

Life is beautiful when you let yourself go to the places that make you feel the happiest.
For me, this is beneath a flowering tree in the springtime.

Daisy Vest & Sunhat  Thrifted at Value Village
Tulle Skirt – OASAP
Shoes – ALDO

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Heart shaped bowl

 I painted this heart-shaped bowl at the Claygrounds studio here in Calgary, with the help of my dear friend Emily. I have always dreamed of living in a home where the kitchen cupboards are filled with utensils and food holders that are both functional and sweet. After all, life is better when we eat for joy!

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My guitar story

I remember turning into a wide-eyed baby when I first heard somebody play the guitar in a finger-picking style. It was like watching sunbeams poke through the curtains after a night where moonlight had too many hours, all of my life's troubles gathered together and suddenly grew smaller by the marriage of ten fingers and six strings. I felt like I had discovered the meaning of life and I was only sixteen.

 Listening to a guitar played the way that suits me best is pure wonderment, the same kind of firefly glow others might find when they go to Disneyland or when somebody catches their first fish, it is magic like being born is magic. From the moment I heard those fingers pull strings the way a gardener pulls fruit from the cherry tree, I was convinced this was the music for me. I wanted to always be listening. If a label for ingredients was attached to everybody the way it is for canned soup, mine would say something about a finger pickin' guitar song.

Although I fell in love with the sound, I never imagined I would learn how to play it myself. Whenever I thought about it, I could only see myself wishing I knew how, but then I would turn on an old country blues song and all of the desire to play was erased by the beauty of somebody else's song. At the time, it was enough for me to close my eyes and let others paint roads on my eyelids while I rested in their songs. I did not need to twitch, stomp, or understand, I just needed to listen. Until one day, after playing my banjo for two years, I came upon the guitar and said "I'm going to try my hand at you." Since then, my fingers have slowly turned from being human into tiny passenger trains. — Summertime weather is here, it is a beautiful time for playing guitar in the park and having nowhere else and nobody else to be.

Do you play an instrument? If not, which instrument have you always wanted to play? Playing guitar and banjo requires effort, but the pay is worth more than anything else I've ever done!

Dress  Thrifted at MCC Thrift
Boots – Wild West Shop in Montana
Guitar OOO-15M Martin

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