Love, Today

Dear yesterday,

You gave me more strength in the most simplistic of moments then I have seen all 200 and something days that have past so far this year. Your comfort barely touched me however I was well aware of its presence, as though scared to touch but eager to feel. For the entirety of it all, the lightness of my body floated across earths man made streets discovering small fractions of what God has provided to all whom walk; overhearing words that reflected someone else’s dreams. I was in one moment, the one whom talked, the next, a stranger’s passerby. In it all you were not far behind; I walked ahead and you stayed near, maybe tomorrow we can walk side by side?

Night Train Journey | Journey Upstate

The rain sparkles in a reflection of my self-portrait;
Upon the internal lights that stay vivid.
The world is turning in this moment;
I head north along the river,
As the lord cries for happiness above us.
Looking outward to the hazy indigo skies,
Hot pink outlines of the Catskills are in the distance.
The vastness is unclear amongst all the strangers,
Separated by isle ways; yet we all share this one way journey.
Peak hour lights in the void of reach are erased from vision.
They once looked like flames causing chaos in construction.
We pass small towns unknown by anyone except its’ inhabitants;
The train battles the wind; manmade has nothing on earths creation.
Slowly we creep to the mountain peaks, it has become pitch black.
There is something calming; we’ve almost made it.

From a Book.

“Basically,” he began, “the tourist can be divided into two categories. The Organizes- the Disorganized. Under the Organized you find two distinct types: first, the Eager-Beaver_Culture-Vulture with the list ten yards long, who just manages to get it all crossed off before she collapses of aesthetic indigestion each night and has to be carried back to her hotel; and second, the cool suave Sophisticate who comes gliding over gracefully, calmly, and indifferently. But don’t be fooled by the indifference. This babe is determined to maintain her incorruptible standards of cleanliness and efficiency if the entire staff of her hotel dies trying. She belongs to the take-your-own-toilet-paper set. Stuffs her suitcases full of nylon, Kleenex, soupflakes, and D.D.T. bombs. Immediately learns the rules of the country. (I mean what time the shops open and close, and how much to tip the waiter.) Can pack for a week end in a small jewel case and in a large handbag and still have enough room for her own soap and washrag. Finds the hairdresser who speaks English, the restaurant who knows how she likes her steak, and the first foreign word she makes absolutely sure of pronouncing correctly is the one for drugstore. After that shes all set and the would is her ash tray. If she’s got enough money she;s got no trouble at all. On the whole, I rather like her.”

-The Dud Avocado, Elaine Dundy

We are a tshirt

It comes in a basic, round neck, v neck, scoop. I prefer the v-neck at GAP with the side pocket; I have it in a variety of colors. It’s lightweight, easygoing and works well with others. It’s the least bit complicated.
Graphically the t-shirt gains personality. It’s impressive, beautiful, gotty, or slightly obseen. I’m a vintage. The wear and tare of a good tee tells a past. Its outer appearance is for strangers to interpret. It may have traveled across the world, gone to the 1979 opening game or listened to the Star Spangled Banner at Woodstock.
Each stitch holds it together, sometimes unravelling to threads. Each wash cleans it but it never will be new again. It may fade overtime- get a hole here and there. It will always be classic.
You will always be classic.

Upstate.

I sat beside the hummingbirds.
Starlight, star bright,
Candlelight;
Mesmerized.
In a world far from city life;
Sipped on well water
On the mountain top;
Dirt roads,
Wood chopped;
At ease, sitting under earths canopy.
Walked barefoot;
Toes to dirt,
Heal to blades of soft grass;
Relaxed.

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