as seen through the eyes of a wandering fairy.

this reminds me of a story.

did you know that she used to have a twinkle in her eye? it went out for an afternoon walk one day and wandered into a field of flowers. the twinkle wanted to come home, it really did, but it nestled underneath a daisy for a nap and was wooed on awakening by a butterfly who saw it and fell madly in love. the two of them set up house together underneath an overgrown mushroom. when winter came, the twinkle grew tired of outdoor living, but it just couldn’t find its way back to its girl.

wildflowers & waves remind me to slow down, be present & listen.

“Let me keep company always with those who say “Look!” and laugh in astonishment, and bow their heads.”

~ Mary Oliver, Mysteries, Yes

i took these photos one day last summer. every time i looked at them, they made me smile. one day, i started to share them with you, but voices in my head stopped me. you see, i had recently stumbled upon a photographer’s critique of photographers who deliberately take out-of-focus images. shortly after, i stumbled upon another one. for some reason, their harsh words stuck with me, and i tucked my images away for safekeeping.

when i tucked my images away for safekeeping, what i was really doing was protecting the tender part of me who loves her images and now felt wrong for loving them.

in my experience, other people’s words tend to pierce me when they agree with something part of me fears is true already. it seems there is a small part of me that thinks (worries) that in order to be a good photographer, in order to be a photographer, my flowers need to be in focus. (side note: this seems oddly specific.) those photographers were popular, or famous, and therefore their assessment of my photos (even though they were speaking generally, not specifically) must be right.

after i let all of this simmer, i remembered two things. the first was that while the other photographers’ words might be true for them, that doesn’t mean they are true for everyone. the second was that i take my photos for me, and the only thing that matters to me is how i feel about them. i think this is true of all art. it might even be true of everything.

“I am here to seduce you into a love of life;
to help you become a little more poetic;
to help you die to the mundane and to the ordinary
so that the extraordinary explodes in your life.”

~ Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh

“The wonder is that we can see these trees and not wonder more.”

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

history teaches us that ferns are far older than even the dinosaurs. i can believe this; there is something about them that seems ancient and timeless.

{an extremely irregular series: tribute the first, tribute the second, tribute the third.}

dear mark rothko,

your paintings pierce my heart.
your paintings nourish my spirit.
your paintings express the inexpressible.

i wish i could send my deepest appreciation to you on a radiant shooting star. but i believe that love is everywhere, and that our souls never die, so i trust that you feel it, everywhere you are.

you inspire me. always.

in gratitude,
your (not-so-secret) admirer

once upon a time, there lived a girl named lily. her hair was the color of flax, her blue eyes were as wide as the sea, and she was wiser than anyone realized.

one day, lily looked in the mirror and saw a flaxen-haired blue-eyed girl looking back at her. the girl in the mirror looked just as surprised and delighted as lily felt.

the two girls smiled at each other.

“hello gorgeous,” the girl whispered to lily. then she blew lily a kiss and waved goodbye. lily waved and blew kisses back.

as the girl in the mirror turned away, her whisper floated through the mirror and landed in lily’s heart and she knew that she was loved.

the end.