Number Nine

Born on a Thursday #9

Fannie 4-4-13
My protectress! “Come out and play, Holly!”

I have been quite sad for some time—I was going to say lately, but that would not be true—it really has been some time, more time than I care to admit—and I have been finding it hard to create. There is one realization after another and they are just hard—and I’m freakin’ tired.

Still, it’s Thursday (Jupiter’s Day), the day I was born, and I get the chance to step out of my everyday life and remember—I’m ALIVE!—while I dog/house sit for some dear friends in Scottsdale.

Tonight the air feels good on my skin, there is a slight breeze carrying the sweet bouquet of orange blossoms. I am sitting in a chair by the pool and I can smell moisture on clay. (Moisture in the desert is one of my favorite smells—akin to the smell of cold on a still-warm autumn day).

I am outside on one of those magical nights—the pre-dawn of summer pressing down on the valley.

I am grateful for the quiet tonight, the peace, the respite from overcooked relationship analysis, the ability to let go of self-consciousness, the night air, the two sweet dogs who will guard my door while I sleep. I am grateful to have this time and this beauty for the next few days—a small escape, and (I hope), a recalibration—life has been uncomfortable.

Though I don’t know exactly where I will be landing, I will be leaving here (Phoenix). It’s been difficult to make a decision, all that I know is, I’m putting one foot in front of the other.

I will leave you with some favorite images from the week:

on the inside . . .

heart of glass
heart of glass

on the outside . . .

cream on rust
cream on rust

Om shanti!

Thanks for reading.

Holly