travelling by the ocean.

I'm visiting my best friend. The ocean. The scent of the sea, the breeze tickling my cheeks, and the sand playing with my feet. I belong here.

for pictures, poems, and stories from my travels
visit my tumblr (http://poetryorpollen.tumblr.com/)

the moon is as round as a banjo

When the sun rises, you are not alone. There are hundreds, if not thousands, if not millions of humans with flesh and bone and fingers and toes and eyes that awake to think thoughts of lonely. You'll never be alone. If only you could see that friendships exist everywhere. Friendships are not limited to flesh and tongues that speak and move. Sometimes the truest friend is a pen and paper. A lake that you find yourself always going back to. If only you could see. Those who see the sun rise after days of ill weather, see a better sun. Love is everywhere.





Love is in me. I am happy. All the lonely friday nights, have finally found their place. In this short life, I have been seperated, I have been alone. Now, i'm surrounded by beautiful lips, and steps that take me home. I want to climb the highest hill, reveal all my secrets to the trees below me, and scream "love love love love love" At once, there were tear drops, and aching legs. There was a mind fed by worry, and a tongue sipping madness. Now, look where I am. I no longer dread the night, or fear empty fridays. I have become what I love, and what I love is me.



The weather's rainy. Sometimes, I think the sky is sad, and that's why it spits. Today, I think the sky is raining because the grass needs to grow. And the concrete needs a cleanse. It's raining because hundreds, if not thousands, if not millions need to curl up by a fireplace, read their books,
or wrap themselves in sweaters by the one they love.

another note about love, it's chilling. it's surreal. i've been wrapping myself in sweaters, falling into rainstorms, and cozying by the fire place of my heart with the one i love for 1 year now. happy year of love Carter!



Dancing, you sparkle. You are what happens when music makes love with light.



I have a temporary mental illness. It's one that has caused suffering from one writer to another. "she had writer's block; the words wouldn't come"... I sit at my computer. Most days, I write too much (not that one can write too much).. but my words end up flowing every which way. Today, I sit. I sit. and I sit. All I can think of is the rain outside, and the music I'd like to listen to. I can't think of anything to write. Anything retrospective, or introspective, nothing.... Just words, that cling, and clang, and frustrate me. Maybe I'll just keep keepin on, and leave you with the photographs from my day trip to the mountains. Happy living everyone!

p.s, there's a surprise for you dreamers nearing the end of this post..









//// Surprise! This creature found his way to our vehicle while we were sipping water, taking a break from photography, and resting our eyes. What a nice surprise for us all! If only I was as photogenic as this gem....


















oh deer. if he belonged to you, what would you name him?


outfit;
top- thrifted le chateau $4
skirt- forever 21 $15
belt- the bay $14
shoesies- value village $15

i box up all the butterflies

After all the treacherous waters, the ailments of health, the fragility of hearts,
There will be a butterfly to carry me away.

Do you know. I don't. Is there anything as fragile as one human's heart?

The weather's been moody. I've been inspired. My rooms been messy. I wonder how everyone's feeling today. I'm feeling good vibes, and tired eyes. As of lately, I've been fighting with numbers. Yesterday it was christmas, and suddenly, it's August. I refuse to let the passing of time hurt my heart. It can't hurt my heart. My life is too boring right now anyways, (but! the future looks promising). Thoughts of backpacks, boats, airplanes, museums, any kind of exploration... This is what keeps me well.







"what is your favorite color?" a common question we're asked to ponder, since the day we pick up our first paint brush and splash rainbows onto thin paper
my desired color palettes are always changing. when i first appreciated color, i loved blue. it reminded me of the sky, and the sea where mythical creations were born. then I wanted to be my brother, so my favorite color became red, red like lips and ketchup chips.

as i have gotten older, my love has set for the many hues of nature. violets, orange, brown, greens. nothing is as beautiful as the vibrant wild flower you discover when your feet are in the forest.










Not much has aligned differently, or grown, or taken separate shape, since the last time I wrote to you. My hair is still growing, and my heart is still beating. I haven't taken a new routine, and I still have an insatiable thirst for adventure. My life is too dull. I need more strangeness. The closest thing to strange in my life lately are strangers. There are many strangers I come to meet, we pass a smile, or a glance, and I leave wishing we had made each other into friends.

The future, be there for me. I need that "i'm here for you, let's eat strawberry jam, and share secrets" kind of sort of friend.







do you ever feel bored, but you can't think of something to do?
your casting your own boredom spell, but there is nothing you can think of to do. nothing exciting lights your mind, therefore nothing's exciting unless something spontaneous decides to ignite... can i live off of spontaneity forever?.... i think it's time to design plans.







yesterday i saw you staring out the window watching the birds fly by,
feet sewn to the floor,
eyes filled with dreams.



Now I must run! fruit flies are playing by my couch, and a wine glass is waiting for me. love from me to you. all ways. always.


outfit details
socks- the bay $10
skirt- winners $15
cropped jacket- french connection thrifted $15
shoesies- zellers $10
headband- nyc flea market $15

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much love xo

I've come to test the timber of my heart

Good Wednesday. I am gladly here, writing to you, if only I could give to you poetry, and well taken words. At this moment, I am only sending rambling your way. It's hard to fixate your eyes on anything when your mind is full on excitement. The calgary folk festival begins tomorrow. Need these fingers type more? I went last year, and was drugged on the melody's of iron and wine, the deep dark woods, the acorn, and the decemberists. I have waited 365 days to be high again. Nothing exists as gentle, as understanding, nor as magical as the way you sway when the music plays.

Moving two feet, and ten fingers, to the sound of live music, especially to the beat of your favorite band(ahem, the avett brothers tomorrow) is on my list of things I cannot resist. I have my sun hat, my listening ears, tapping feet, bell bottoms, hands to hold, and love in my heart. Nothing else is needed to feed my body with the scenery and the sounds of tomorrow.








There's a life here. A life that slips through my tiny fingers. My vacant mind can't always sleep in the clouds. I need ambition. I need to set fire to my desires, and live the good life that was meant for me. Maybe it's the way of summer, how it knocks you down, leaves your hands untied, leaves you free. The freedom of summer turns lonesome by winter, I need to write check marks in permanent pen on my (growing) to-do list.






Having a job would be nice. Not so much for the money or the many wedges I will buy, not even for the ever flowing dresses, and gold owl necklaces. I think a job would be good for me. A route outside of my home, a challenge outside of my walls. I could shake hands with strangers, and watch them turn into friends. I do not know if a job will be the answer to all that I'm seeking, but it would bring me a fresh strawberry start. And if there's a good time for a fresh start, it's now.



As for now, I will enjoy the company of my music, the hands of my lover, the heart of my father, and the drive of my mother. There will come a day where lonely days, and freedom are extinct in my existence. So. I must hold onto these days as they come.



Here's a tragic and funny story. While my mom was taking these photo's, I jumped onto a rock.. and snap, there goes my shoe strap.. there goes my "favorite" shoe strap. Tell me, is it a good or bad thing that within 5 seconds of discovering the brokenness of my jean wedges, ensues a laughing fit? I found it amusing, and humorous that I, Amy Nelson, broke my favorite shoes by jumping onto a rock. Now I feel stupid. Rest in peace, and serenity favorite shoes. May you be worn in shoe heaven..

Now I'll leave you with lyrics my lips shall move along to during the festival,


"If you're loved by someone you're never rejected"


"Love arrives safely with suitcase in toe , carrying with her the good things we know, a reason to live and a reason to grow"


"I have some "friends" they don't know who I am, so I write quotations around the word friends"


"there's a house across the river, but alas. I cannot swim, and a garden of such beauty that the flowers seem to grin"


"oh the wine bottle's half empty--the money's all spent. we're a cross between our parents
and hippies in a tent."



Blog followers, It's a good feeling to be back in your arms. I love my Nikon more than the ideal weather forecast. and (for you, who holds my heart) Thank god you see me the way you do, strange as it may be. I love you.

I'll be back with an overwhelming amount of festival photo's.
love,
all ways, always.

wedges(r.i.p)- value village $13
tights- gift
dress- forever 21 $11
skirt- winners $15
bow belt- winners $10
bow in hair- claires $1