day 81

"Sometimes I feel like that tree on the hill, where all the wind blows and the hail hits the hardest. All the people I love are down the side aways, sheltered under a great rock.
i am out of the fold.
standing alone in the sun and the snow, i feel like I am not part of the rest. they welcome me and are kind, but I see [them] as they sit together and it is like they have a certain way between them that is beyond me.

mother told me to make a special point to remember the best times of my life.
So I must remember this day. It is beautiful..."
--sarah (these is my words/nancy turner)

spare moments over the past few weeks have been spent chipping away at the growing list of books left unread on my shelves for more months than i'd probably allow myself to admit. i blame my new boyfriend, droid. - tv is so pissed.

somewhere in the midst of prime time premiers and a my 93 pt word on wordfued (bam!), i managed to fit an umpteenth reading of a favorite novel in for bookclub tomorrow night.

sarah is still one of my favorite characters. maybe because i share many of her same sentiments on the idea of happiness.

i've struggled my entire adult life to find words that could loosely define my idea of happiness to others. i've always known that bliss was never a state that appealed to me and all of my happiest moments seem to be accompanied with a tinge of melancholy...
much to my dismay we went camping this past weekend. i went exploring with the boys as soon as we got there, while spencer stayed to set up.
behind a huge log pile, at the end of a stoned path there were 2 lone trees. crooked and out of place, the grass matted more that 3 feet out around the base of their trunks. the late afternoon sun set a harsh contrast to their gnarled bark and the miles of tall pines behind them, calling me to lift the camera roped around my neck. i must remember this day. this day is beautiful.
...pictures are my mouthpiece, i've known this about myself, and this picture specifically is the closest i've come to any sort of definition of that which my brain finds difficult to verbally define.