Jessica Brannen.
Halifax, Nova Scotia.
https://twitter.com/lavieim

Lately: September, my yearly crush on you. Though you're confusing and moody you're fascinating. There is a lot swirling around in your days and dawns and slanting light and dusks and winds and downpours. It is not like dust particles floating in sunlight at all.

Listening to: The Radio Dept., New Order, LCD Soundsystem, The Drums, Max Richter, Four Tet, John Maus, Purity Ring,
Darkstar, Maya Jane Coles

Reading: Emily Dickinson, Pablo Neruda, Virginia Woolf, Tove Jansson, Alain de Botton- Essays in Love, Mary Oliver, short stories by Haruki Murakami

Watching: Pippi Longstocking

Scotch tape, play doh, book pages and freshly cut grass on top ranking smells list.

Persnickety yet easy-going?
And no more naturally austere than you are naturally vicious. (Charlotte Brontë)

Middle child.

You can make me a Mexican feast and bring me tulips or cosmos.

Bookish, journal-writin' type.

Grew up in the country, playing on the beach and in the woods. Still spend a lot of time there. You can hear roosters.

Lived in Sweden for many years and speak Swedish. Love Sweden and Finland. Visit every year.

Hollyhocks and delphiniums.

Studied art, photo, film and textiles. Have a love of all things arts and crafty. Also gardening, sewing, and writing.

Remember rolling down the hill?

Remember picking Fool's Gold out of the road with butter knives?

Remember that time we sneaked into that white abandoned house and saw a wedding dress in the closet?

Let's go swimming in the ocean.

And go thriftin'.

I can peel carrots really fast.
I'm left handed.
I wish to find secret letters or notes hidden in old walls.
I love good old-fashioned letters.
I love quilts.
I love scraps.
I make a mean pancake.
Collective nouns are funny.

Over and out.

yellow

I am really that simple. I want to look at the flowers in the spring. I want to gape at them. They seem the very definition of impossibility, and yet, there they are.

I am exactly like the kids, I want to bring these fresh little things home and deck the halls. Everything is proclaimed. Extravagance exists.

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whatblogbe:

"When I woke up I heard about the eclipse. I heard the moon turned red. Did strange things happen last night? I saw in kickin’ in there was an eclipse and then some ghosts came but some were projected but some were real"

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i don’t hate any of that. i trust the strangeness that brought me here

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weekday

Can you peer under the corners of the rush? Can the yellow of the lemon make any impression? It is precisely the rush that requires taking notice of the yellow of the lemon. I don’t want the uneasiness of a day gone by and a blur remaining. I am compelled to pick out a few small stones and turn them over in my hand.

Sometimes they can only be the tiniest of stones. Not something I would place on a window ledge, but just what was there. Worthy of a glance from me somehow. Worth looking at against each other, fleetingly.

Swimming lessons, and the arresting blue of the water every time. Half an hour, and everything stops for once, and I stare at the water. I hear it, and the reflections of the light on it move. I am not in it, but here is the example of looking at something you want, something you like, something pleasing. I take note: here is something I want to immerse myself in, alone and gliding, when I can. Arms and legs with a different weight.

And it’s easy to love the joy of the first spring plays. The leaps are Leaps, the shouts are Shouts. The running is unguarded and exultant.

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sombear:

please

(via johnmaus)

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navigate: 1. To plan, record, and control the course and position of (a ship or aircraft). 2. To follow a planned course on, across, or through: navigate a stream.

discern: (b): to detect with senses other than vision

perceive: 1. to become aware of, know, or identify by means of the senses: I perceived an object looming through the mist. 2. to recognize, discern, envision, or understand: I perceive a note of sarcasm in your voice.

Comments

My throat is in my throat protesting. My fingers are shaking slightly with properly clipped nails. My legs hold me up and hold me up. My arms hold and hesitate and fix and reach and carry and falter. My voice remembers, my mouth sets and becomes overgrown. My memory evaporates but also rains and shouts and wakes and travels. My mind builds and winds, and there is a stronger wind starting to blow through. My chest is not empty.

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75 notes, Comments