the silence.


like a child in utero

the beat of a heart

pounding in my ear

holding it in waves

of sublime completeness.

the water releases me.

i sit up.

the sounds of normalcy returning–

basketballs thud thud thudding

against tired wet concrete

from days of rain.

voices from the living room drifting in

from under the door.

the lemon candle flickers against

the swirls of mist rising from limbs–

the heat from the water begins to

close the reflection on the mirror.

i sit.



as the water continues to hold me

in the bath my mother drew.


summer of ’09 a.k.a. “sappy town”

one time, a long, long, time ago, there was a couple who had been dating for only a few months before they were separated by a measly summer, but at the time, seemed like eternity. therefore, numerous packages and letters had to be sent to keep the ties between them kindled and taut with youthful earnestness. the result five years later, is a sickly bunch of sappy, oozing, pheromone saturated, letters. however, there were a few that caught my eye from june 2009.

california love package: part maddie

california love package: part maddie

california love package: part katherine

california love package: part katherine

california love package: part becca

california love package: part becca

california love package: part moi

california love package: part moi

post cards from summer vacation in black hills to california

post cards from summer vacation in black hills to california

of cabbages and kings

for some reason excerpts of “the walrus and the carpenter” have been stuck in my head. here are some old beach pictures to go along with it…

at corona del mar

at corona del mar

sand castles

sand castles


summer 2011

summer 2011

The sun was shining on the sea,
Shining with all his might:
He did his very best to make
The billows smooth and bright–
And this was odd, because it was
The middle of the night.

The moon was shining sulkily,
Because she thought the sun
Had got no business to be there
After the day was done–
“It’s very rude of him,” she said,
“To come and spoil the fun!”

The sea was wet as wet could be,
The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud because
No cloud was in the sky:
No birds were flying overhead–
There were no birds to fly.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand:
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand:
“If this were only cleared away,”
They said, “it would be grand!”

“If seven maids with seven mops
Swept it for half a year,
Do you suppose,” the Walrus said,
“That they could get it clear?”
“I doubt it,” said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear.

“0 Oysters, come and walk with us!”
The Walrus did beseech.
“A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each.”

The eldest Oyster looked at him,
But never a word he said;
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head–
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster-bed.

But four young Oysters hurried up,
All eager for the treat:
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
Their shoes were clean and neat–
And this was odd, because, you know,
They hadn’t any feet.

Four other Oysters followed them,
And yet another four;
And thick and fast they came at last,
And more and more and more–
All hopping through the frothy waves,
And scrambling to the shore.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Walked on a mile or so,
And then they rested on a rock
Conveniently low:
And all the little Oysters stood
And waited in a row.

“The time has come,” the Walrus said,
“To talk of many things:
Of shoes–and ships–and sealing-wax–
Of cabbages–and kings–
And why the sea is boiling hot–
And whether pigs have wings.”

“But wait a bit,” the Oysters cried,
“Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat!”
“No hurry!” said the Carpenter.
They thanked him much for that.

“A loaf of bread,” the Walrus said,
“Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
Are very good indeed–
Now, if you’re ready, Oysters dear,
We can begin to feed.”

“But not on us!” the Oysters cried,
Turning a little blue.
“After such kindness, that would be
A dismal thing to do!”
“The night is fine,” the Walrus said,
“Do you admire the view?

“It was so kind of you to come!
And you are very nice!”
The Carpenter said nothing but
“Cut us another slice.
I wish you were not quite so deaf–
I’ve had to ask you twice!”

“It seems a shame,” the Walrus said,
“To play them such a trick.
After we’ve brought them out so far,
And made them trot so quick!”
The Carpenter said nothing but
“The butter’s spread too thick!”

“I weep for you,” the Walrus said:
“I deeply sympathize.”
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.

“0 Oysters,” said the Carpenter,
“You’ve had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?”
But answer came there none–
And this was scarcely odd, because
They’d eaten every one.

from Lewis Carroll’s Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There, 1872.