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October 27: Brain the Size of a Walnut

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To enclosing COVID mentally and physically….

Like every other day

The gallery is open.

But today

The show is set around Picasso’s blank canvas.

Art without color

Like food without flavor.

Like the Chef lost his touch for a moment

although his kitchen looks the same.

Pablo is feeling the beginning of a new era they say

He is spending time thinking they say

But his head lost his hand

at this time.

Come back soon.

October 26: Oh, To Things We Can’t Control

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To the aftermath of a natural disaster...

A few inches in front of me rests my plants. 

A few feet beyond the bridge rests Mother’s Nature’s making of brick turned into rubble.

A few miles of open skyline ahead rests a city I haven’t known all that long and the city where I realized the sun’s light was a means to my survival when it nurtured my ability to see past things I didn’t understand.

Looking out my windows rests a strong city: a wild city: a very beautiful city. Past the clouds and amongst the hills, it shines a new kind of light; a rare kind of light; a very bright glow. Not a morning is missed when it comes to reminding me that contrary of my plan, fait will always take its course in world of all the things unknown.

October 24: Did she just say yes?

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To scoring that date…

I think first dates introduce high stakes of pride and project. pride as you present your considerably best self, and Project in the fact that every 60 year wedding anniversary was once sitting nervously at this table. The good news is that love is picky with what senses it chooses in these defining minutes. Love is infamous for not hearing a majority of what you are about to say but masters the touch of letting you know when the right moments make you feel.

October 23: Be a Ballerina

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To embracing a year of challenges, adventures, and change…

 This year, I moved across state lines, changed jobs, left friends, learned to trust the good and wholeheartedly forgave the bad. I have felt the pokes of fait as it has become one of my most seriously consistent companions. approaching the endless bouts and qualms that this life entails now feels familiar. When I get where I’m going, Rather than being remembered as someone who rolled with the punches, I want to celebrated as the one who danced with them instead. So, here’s to you 2020- let’s tango.

October 21: The Migrating Herd

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To knowing you’re more than just one in the crowd…

Pow! Not at you, but for you. Everyone has heard the start for today’s race as they finally set off to this battle across peaks and valleys. The crowd with unknown motivations and a common lust for adventure gathers here with you, shoulder to shoulder. Whether you are in the first half, or a minute behind: whether you have run plenty of marathons or this is your first, everyone is here because they qualified. Some people push, some people cheer, and some people act as though they are the only one on the street. You may not know what the crowd sees, but when you cross the finish line, your face will be remembered by passersbys. Settle into your pace and find your speed because this is defiantly not a sprint. You run this life; not the other way around.

October 20: I imagine Lewis was driving while Clark was navigating the GPS

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To valuing the past and defining your future…

It’s cool to know that in their search for new land, Louis and Clark’s daily explorations weren’t determined by whether or not google maps would load. Embracing my old soul, I read the newspaper and wallow at the antiques around me. I eye the two-minute limit sign where the payphone used to be and laugh as I facetime my brother for a modern-day hangout on our unlimited data plan. As The old bench squeaks as loud as the brakes pads that got me in this situation, i wonder what this place was like 50 years ago. What did people used to do when they were waiting for their cars? The scent of Lessons learned that made our world a better place and the quality looking souls that know just how tough it all can be drove me into a place of clarity amid the perishing parts of this auto shop. In my opinion, Writing the story of your 20’s is just the beginning of defining which script you want to rust underneath your name in history.

October 19: The hills are alive with sirens of music

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To being unafraid of new challenges…

Today I concluded that I may have bit off a little more than I can chew. As I quickly pull my hand out of the oven post-burn, I focus on remembering one thing: I’m a soggy graham cracker. The first time you ever dipped this brown piece of sugar into milk, you were excited and nerved by the mush you just created, and subtly convinced you just ruined your dessert. But with fear and thrill in the palm of your hand, a small bite opened your buds to a new world of tastes unknown . It was risky; it was dysfunctional; but dang, without question, you will never regret taking that plunge.