If you're a bird, I'm a bird.

"It’s clear to me now that I have been moving toward you and you toward me for a long time. Though neither of us was aware of the other before we met, there was a kind of mindless certainty bumming blithely along beneath our ignorance that ensured we would come together. Like two solitary birds flying the great prairies by celestial reckoning, all of these years and lifetimes we have been moving toward one another."

The Bridges of Madison County, Robert James Waller

...

I am so grateful.

So grateful to have found the most perfect man for me, in this most unperfect world.

But it could also very well be that he found me.

On writing, and madness.

Lord Byron, you pulled the words right out of my fingertips.

I believe that most of my favorite writers are mad.

Mad with love for the craft. Mad with obsession for their talent.

Mad with passion, mad with imagination, madly intoxicated with the power they have over language. Mad with the power to control chaos and build literary order out of proper diction, syntax, and grammar.

And then, presumably, when they cannot find the right words to express themselves like I so often fail to do -- presumably, they get mad like I do, too. Mad with frustration and mad at themselves. Mad at the world for not inspiring them more, and mad at their lives for not giving them something more to write about.

I used to make excuses for not writing as often as I would like to. For not writing about the people and places and fantasies and theories I want to write about, the way I want to write it and let it play out. But here's to hoping that things will change soon enough: I went to an event by myself and met a woman. And then I met another, and joined a writing group tonight. I am admittedly a little nervous, but most of all, I am curious and excited.

It'll be like Creative Writing class all over again, where we sat around in circles and shat on each other's stories, tearing each other's beloved works to pieces, when really, I think it was more because we were mad that we weren't the ones to come up with that brilliant plotline ourselves.

Shades of Autumn.

What a perfectly wonderful, and colorful, weekend.


Not only were Manfriend and I able to spend a few quiet, intimate hours together before his business trip this upcoming week, we also got to do some Fall and Halloween activities with family and friends!

Early Saturday morning, Manfriend and I headed to Butler's Orchard for the Pumpkin Festival where we met up with my relatives and cousins (a total of nine adults and seven children!).

It was my first time at a pumpkin patch, and I had so much fun hanging out with the kids! Although, I could probably pass off as a big child myself, no? In any case, I definitely screamed like a baby later that night when we all went to Markoff's Haunted Forest!

Room service.

I told myself I'd spend tonight cleaning up the disaster I call my "room".

Um. Yeah, about that...

Yeah, that's just not happening right now. Where's room service and a French maid when you need one?

{Pseudoporn photo captured by who else but the Best Friend, circa Halloween 2007.
What a trompe l'oeil, though. My twins don't look that fantastits in real life.}

I haven't figured out exactly what I am going to be slutting up as this year, but I've got myself exactly a week to do it! (... no pun intended.)

A year, and more, of nights and mornings.

How lovely would it be, to start off your days just like this.

{Images by incredibly talented and beautiful souls I had the chance to stumble upon on Flicker.}

And then, as the sun sets, to pack up the few belongings I call mine, and do it all over again.

***

It's been a long week, with a few unfair and unfortunate happenings. I met and made some inspiring new friends, yet, I was also met with disconcerting realities concerning certain individuals and their behaviors.

But I won't think about all of that now. I have so many wonderful adventures planned for this weekend. I'm leaving all of these negative things and feelings behind and am pressing the reset button on this very sunny, happy Friday.

And then you have to keep on going.

You know, I have moments. A lot of them. All the time.

Moments of regrets. Moments where I can't help second-guessing myself. Moments where I think I could have done more. Said more. Be more.

Moments where I feel utterly small, and completely useless, and left behind.

But then there are those quiet moments, too. The ones where I am grateful for all the lessons learned. For the strength and resilience gained from all those obstacles braved. Moments of pride for all the private battles I've won. Personal victories that some might not, or could not, understand.

Those very moments. They're the ones that keep me going.

All good things are wild, and free.

{all photos taken at the best friend's beautiful home}

Thank you, thank you, thank you lovers, for lending me your beautiful faces and precious time! The both of you made this first weekend of October so fun and wonderful.

Capturing it all.

I do not consider myself to be a writer, much less a very good one, at that -- but for some reason or another, many people have been compelled enough by my writing to go as far as compliment me.

And although I have never been very good or gracious at accepting praise, I always make it a goal to thank them for their words. Because for what it's worth, however genuine or critical or superficial they are, their words encourage me to keep making sense of my thoughts, so that I can keep finding the right words to capture it all.

Because I have to capture it all, you see. Or else, no matter what I delude myself into believing, those memories will quietly make their escape one day, sooner or later, one way or another.

And when words fail me and refuse to come to me -- well, this is one of the reasons why I have been getting more into photography lately.