hello march

We've made it through February! One of the toughest months in the year, I often think. This song plays in my internal jukebox throughout the month -- it's an achy tricky month. It's been a busy month too -- as our offline lives become richer, our posting here becomes sparser. We've all been up to exciting things lately though, and we're ready for a spring of fresh starts and sharing more here.

Libby has been spending too much time dancing in strobe lights, and writing more short stories, and studying.
Hannah has been taking beautiful photos, singing, and making movies.
Carlotta has also been enjoying snow, and also sunshine, and her new chickens!
Abbey has been feeling giddy, and sick, and also weird about the fact she's not on a bus.
Katie got accepted into Pratt!!!
Kendall has been watching spring begin, shooting film, and writing lists.

Katie, Kinga & Lillian have been busy & beautiful too.

What about you?

a question

someone asked me this question a few weeks ago and I haven't been able to stop mulling it over. so I wrote about it.

+ in a subway station in berlin with music from an electric guitar floating through the air and the rumble of the city beneath my feet

+ when I came home from a trip and my siblings screamed and hugged me so tight there was no breath left in me and the tears just came out of nowhere and spilled over as the crickets chirped their song

+ reaching the the summit of a mesa after spending all morning climbing it and even though it was only seven hundred feet high, I stood at the very edge and I swore I was on top of the world

+ getting up early and catching the train for the first time by myself, then showing the conductor my ticket when he walked through and even though tons of kids my age travel alone all the time I felt strangely grown up and powerful

+ sitting on a bench in front of the eiffel tower and crying

+ standing in the cold ocean, letting the current suck at my feet and knock the breath out of me

+ stargazing with my best friends in the middle of the road, the sky velvety black and the concrete warm from the day's heat

+ being carefree and forgetting about the future and acting like a little kid and not caring about anything except the present

cct

the lake, the cabin, the fields

I live in the literal centre of this continent, snowed in from every direction. Consuming excessive amounts of Vitamin C, curling up in sunbeams on the living room floor like a cat, and watching these videos are my saving graces during this fifth month of winter. If you're feeling a little chilly, go ahead and visit one of my summer homes:

(watch all in HD here)

The lake:

The cabin:


The fields:


--
Abbey

definitions of love

I have loved, I have been loved, I have never been in love.

I have been stricken by an overwhelming, profound thing that could be described with too many adjectives; a pressure in my gut; a profound realization; a gratefulness; a joy; a sense of forgiveness. My love is for my family, my friends, my dog, my hobbies, my passions.

And even though love is defined as a deep affection for someone, I think it's something deeper; a feeling that you can't quite put your finger on. I can describe what love brings, what it makes me feel, but it takes a far more skilled writer to touch on the essence of love. All I can say is it is happiness, but not always, it is understanding and mistakes and sometimes failure but usually forgiveness. It is something quite beautifully human, and I cannot imagine living without it.

What is your definition of love?

Kinga

poetry : do you wonder?

do you know what it's like to
tie your heart to everything you carry?

i picked it up when i was little,
it came along with trying to be older.
it's always to late to realize

it's too late, right?
yes.

well.

do you know how it feels to let it go?
slip from your shoulders.
like.

a blanket?
yes.

why always a blanket?
like letting go. it makes sense do you --

what?
i wonder.

good. you were almost too late.

for what?
dinner?

no.
then what?


xo, h

Floating

It had been over half her lifetime since, but she kept lists and handfuls of things she remembered.  It began with glass doorknobs, and continued like this:  the small black-and-white tiles that made up the bathroom floor(always chilly in the early mornings), golden yellow kitchen walls (many breakfasts), ugly green carpets that were thick with dirt (before they were removed and left by the lightpost where the trashcan sat on the street), the radiator with the white metal box covering it (sitting, winter mornings, warm feet, book in hand).  She could pluck the little scraps of information, as they lazily floated through the air.  The list would continue on: windows (painted shut), third story attic (filled with boxes), deck, hard wood floor, green walls.  But a gust of wind came through town, for a whole year, and all the little pieces flew out(business class).  She stumbled for three months then, before realizing that they were gone.  

lillian.

the vision of rest

Some words to reflect on from Wendell Berry's book of poems Clearing (a highly recommended read).

cc