Inspiration for today taken from habit.
A picture, a few words, a little mystery, that somehow form a visual journal of my previous week.
Have a great weekend, friends.
Everything seems to be saying: Let go and fly. I’m trying hard to listen.
My grandmother said bad news always comes in threes. Today, she was right.
Normally, they stagger these things.
I have felt drugged since we switched the clocks.
Growing up and grieving seem to have a lot in common. Neither is linear, easy, pretty nor quick.