Weaving Story

I'm weaving a story now - of my life. It's nice. We need stories, to make sense of the world - and ourselves. Sounds egocentrically perhaps. It isn't. It's the most important story of all.

Walks - Roots

You have to be careful though, it so easily gets kidnapped. Cause others want to make sense, of your life - too.

Sometimes with the best of intentions, sometimes not.

Journal - Dreaming Elf

I just realized my watch stopped. It's a silly watch found by my love on a street in New Orleans. A silly, golden, pretty, wonderous thing. It's easy to get a little freaked out by watches stopping - if your a symbolism nerd that is. We all know what stopping watches and broken clocks usually mean - in storytelling through the ages; time stands still, something is lost, or the like.

Walks - Pretty things on the side of the road

But I don't think there's anything to worry about. Or, perhaps that's exactly what it is. In the best sense of the word. One life ends, another begins - with all its worries, struggles and wonderous, wonderous things to see, to be, to live within.