a knowing being.

Some people don’t go to the dentist.

And some people don’t ever have anything go wrong with their teeth.

Those people are missing out on something beautiful in life.


This morning, I had to get two fillings.  [because i love sour patch kids and hate brushing my teeth.]

My dentist [a goddess in jackson] asked if I wanted Happy Gas.

– Yes, please.

It’s amazing the thoughts that go through my head on that stuff.

First off, I immediately begin a strategy about how to mainline this stuff to my brain, and how to get the nurses to give me more.

[this is the happy gas phase where i’m convinced i’m a genius.]

I take deep breaths through my nose and exhale as little as possible through my mouth.

– Are you feeling the gas?

– Ummm… the Happy Gas?  Oh, yeah, I guess I feel it a little…

[ha!  i’m a genius!  i got her so good!  she’ll for sure turn it up!]

That was burst, though, when it took me about two minutes to realize the alarm on my phone, that was in my pocket, was going off… making a loud ringing noise.  And when I realized it was mine, I said…

– Oh my gosh!  That’s me!  I’m so sorry!  I just kept thinking, “Man, this place is fun… It has such fun noises!”


Speaking of noises.  Then there’s the phase of Happy Gasing where I think every single song on my iPod is the best song in the whole wide world.

[ yes, ludacris.  you are so right!  hells yeah!  this is the best song i’ve ever heard!  i’m gonna put this on every mix i ever make.]

It’s a beautiful thing.

And then it really does get trippy.  And I have a thought to myself…

[stuff like this is why people do drugs.]

My hands are on my hips, my hip bones.  And I don’t even think about how weird this must look, laying down.  It’s a signature stance for me in normal life, but laying down must look like how Superman sleeps.

My fingers on the bones of my hips and my breathing deeper than ever before.  Feeling my stomach fade away further down with each breath.  Becoming a canyon greater, deeper than any other depth.  The fingers resting on my hips turn to tourists.  Families of five on opposing lips of the canyon, fresh from the mini van, staring down.  One family: red heads.  The other: brown hair.  Looking down, speechless for the first time in hours because of the endless abyss that stares back at them.  The second to youngest in each family must make a snide remark… to keep up with their self-given stereotype and remind everyone that they don’t get along.  Breathing deeper, I notice the peaks of my ribs making their presence known beside this canyon.  The families notice, almost scared, and turn their stares to the mountains.  The children ask what those peaks are called.  The fathers don’t know, but they make something up to seem educated and important.  The mountains shake their heads and laugh at the naive tourists and can’t wait until a knowing being stares up at them with a smile of recognition, with their legs dangled over the edge of the edge of the canyon, their hands comfortably set behind their head.  Until they remove one hand to point to and name each ridge in the peaks present, like reciting poems about happiness.

a place for you.

I was craving Australia the other day.

Weird, I know.

How do you crave such a dark time?

But, no… I craved the isolation, the invisibility, the unidentified wandering, the loneliness, the strangers.

So, I drove to Salt Lake City.  By myself.  To go see a concert: Sleigh Bells and Yeasayer.

Leaving Jackson with such a familiar feeling of escape.  Driving like I was running.

Exhaling finally.  But in a peaceful way… not like I had exhaled, running away from that place, before.

Before, it was an emergency puncture to get air from my lungs: a violent necessity. This weekend it was an exhale with the thought…

– Oh, how long have I been holding my breath?

Fully expecting to go by myself to a concert, it was a pleasant surprise when a random friend from college was in on going as well.

Jenny and I have so much in common.

We both worked in Yosemite [different years].

Both currently work with adults with disabilities.

Both tall, dancey women.

in jenny's house.

– Is this picture on your door from Le Love?

– Yeah!  Wow.  I’ve had about a hundred people look at that and no one has ever known where it’s from.  I’ve always had to explain.

We even had the same shoes on.

It was perfect going to the concert with her.  Like going with a me to talk to, dance with.

The whole thing was too right.  The venue was tiny and perfect.  The music was amazing, the band – excited/incredible/moving.

Dancing like no one was there.  Dancing like everyone was there.

Sweating.  Smiling.

I’ve wanted to be a part of something like this…

…for a long time.

Rightness.  Full circle.

Then the next day I had breakfast with an old friend, went for an amazing trail run and then wandered.

Found my way around boutiques, thrift stores, food markets and parks.  Didn’t know anyone.  Felt invisible.

I searched, like I did in Sydney, for the perfect necklace.  Nowhere to be found.

I sat in the grass.

I wrote.  [that never happens anymore… well, not on paper.]

Sunshine.  Isolation.  I felt like I was in Sydney.

It was good for a day, a moment, a breath.

Drove home…. with another familiar feeling.

The feeling of going home.  Running towards those mountains.  How powerful and inviting they are.  The way they sit down for dinner with the setting sun and the clouds.   And look, they have set a place for you at the table to dine and drink and smile and sing and toast!



let’s go start a fight!

TreeFight logo by moi.

I made this logo for a local organization trying to save our White Bark Pines.  Check out TreeFight.

If you’re in the Jackson area, I hope to see you tomorrow night at the Center For the Arts around 7pm to learn more about how we can save these beautiful beasts.

And I’m so psyched on the name “TreeFight”… mainly because it totally makes me think of that scene in the Wizard of Oz… where all the mean trees start fights and throw apples at people.  It’s a motha f*ckin’ tree fight!

you wanna start somethin'?

chilly mornings and the teton county library.

When I visited Jackson in college with my family, I rented a bike and rode around one morning.  It was cooler than I had expected.  Hands freezing, eyes watering, fresh air, smiling like an idiot, an idiot who doesn’t care, she’s so happy.

Rode to the library.  Thought, Wow, I love this library.

You can tell a lot about a town by it’s library.

I love the library this day.  Makes me thinks of when I first fell in love with it.  And then I think to my bike ride this morning and it’s all too right.

Things are different now.

I’m less naive.

I’m realistic about my Jackson dreams [though the reality is overwhelmingly exciting].

I drink coffee now.  [the library’s coffee.]  And I am thankful.

This library, the people, the books, are familiar.  And I am thankful.

[although i am sad they don’t have the last harry potter.]

[cuz i think i’m ready.]

birthday boys!

Whoa, what a weekend this will be!

Three very special boys in my life have a birthday this weekend… so, I’m gonna holler at ’em…

the precious, the amazing... bard!

Look how amazing that kid is.  Bard has been such a light in my life for the past seven months.  And on Friday he’s ONE YEAR OLD!  Wow.  I can’t even believe it.  I’ve watched him grow so, so much into the incredible little one year old he’ll be.  Today, whilst watching him, I put him down for a nap but he woke up a bit so we cuddled in his rocking chair while he slept for another hour.  SO precious.  I love him very, very much.


A song for Bard:

the sweetest, the incredible... ev!

Evan and I are actually leaving in a few hours for the desert for a birthday climbing trip.  [don’t tell him i’m blahgging instead of packing.]  I cannot wait to celebrate with some sunshine, some climbing, some dancing, some singing, good times all around.  Evan is an adventure partner extraordinaire, crafty man, handy man, cookin’ man, bakin’ man… I don’t know what I bring to the table in comparison, but I ain’t complainin’…


A song for Evan:

the awesome, the hilarious... ry!

And most importantly… my little bro!  Who might not be so little anymore.  Next month, we’ll see if he’s finally surpassed his gargantuan biggest sis in height.  Oh, Ryland… I cannot believe you’re about to be SIXTEEN!  Soon this picture will be reversed and you’ll be driving ME to Sonic for a cherry limeade.  Wow.  Thanks for being such an amazing little bro.  Cannot wait to see you!  I love you!


A song for Ryland:

Happy Birthday, Special Boys!  Hope it’s amazing for each of you!  Thanks for being so great!

A song for all!

the glaciers made you and now you’re mine.

A line from a friend today…

– This is the season for change and you seem like you have a lot of change in your life right now.

Writing like I care again.

Living like I care again.

Listening like I care again.

“the quiet of this night.

the only person breathing for blocks, for miles, for lives.  lifetimes long and you’re the only one alive.

the music sets the soundtrack of this moment.  and moments many hearts before.  it is too perfect and when you picture analyzing this scene from the reel, looking back, you’ll say, “this is one of my favorite favorite scenes.  the song that used to be so special but now just is and is okay, is symbolic of everything coming full circle.

everything being right instead of wrong.”

tired from working: staring at a screen. (ablahgofpicturesofherself.com)

yes and yes, over and over: