After work I find myself drawn to a neighborhood several blocks away. The streets are winding and narrow with cement staircases leading up to mysterious places. Brick walls overflow with ivy and ferns. The homes are from another time, all beautiful in their own way. And the midst of it all, I lose myself. With every turn I expect to see something of another time (perhaps something like these). At certain points in my walk I know there will be a break in the homes where I will see for miles and this is where I look for a sea, but instead, there is Portland.

“It was very still. The tree was tall and straggling. It had thrown its briers over a hawthorn-bush, and its long streamers trailed thick, right down to the grass, splashing the darkness everywhere with great spilt stars, pure white. In bosses of ivory and in large splashed stars the roses gleamed on the darkness of foliage and stems and grass. Paul and Miriam stood close together, silent, and watched. Point after point the steady roses shone out to them, seeming to kindle something in their souls. The dusk came like smoke around, and still did not put out the roses.” 

(from Sons & Lovers by DH Lawrence)

It was that special hour where everything is a bit blue and all the petals of this backyard tree were fluttering down. Try as I might I couldn't capture it. Sometimes you truly have to be there.

Spring cleaning, windows open, fresh air, this on repeat. Some evenings are so simple.

part time workers

full time explorers

Every morning I have been enjoying a ritual of coffee and toast with a tomato basil jam I made last summer using a recipe from this book. But the inevitable happened. I ran out. Which leads me to  another reason I just can't wait for summer, an abundance of tomatoes.

(Sidenote: I really can't recommend this book more to you, it is the best. AND if you to only can one thing in your life make sure it is this jam.)

A lot of that hair is gone now. 

Jake got me some black and white film for Christmas. I shot with it in January. I finally got it developed  this week with little remembrance of what was on the roll. But once I looked through the images, I quickly recalled the day I drove up through the hills in snow and fog, just to grab a couple of shots.

Lately instead of being a responsible adult, I've been going on long wandering walks, finding the perfect flowers, sketching on my back stoop, drinking coffee at unreasonable times. It seems I've really embraced a meandering life. But who else would take the time to smell that spring is right here? Does anyone else catch the whiffs of the newborn flowers, the almost hot cement, a bit of mildew, and grass being mowed next door? For now I'll just have to blame my impulsiveness on this intoxicating scent I'm smelling everywhere.

I helped create this little booklet for my boss at my internship. It's always nice to see things in print, in my hands, actually tangible pieces of work, rather than just on the computer screen.

One of my goals this year was to make illustration a habit. I have attempted to draw, paint, or create a digital illustration every day. I carry around a notebook in case I have a few extra minutes in the middle of my day. I've found doing something that I enjoy in between things that I don't necessarily enjoy helps my mind stay focused and relaxed. What is that you like to do, but tend not to find time to do?

Lately it seems everything that I've done has linked back to the moon (for example, I watched this, was reading this, and listened to this on a new-to-me record, unintentionally all in one day). And honestly, I haven't look at it hard until recently. Now, I can hardly keep my eyes on earth and out of the sky.

I've been trying to slow done and notice how my body interacts with my surroundings. I want to feel how the sun warms my skin and how the tree shadows give an instant chill. I think you can find in these little details that you are really, truly, alive.

Several weekends ago we went thrifting. We took some things home for our own, but as usual we saw some things that we just couldn't buy. I've fallen in love with the idea of having a cuckoo clock. This robe was sweet and delicate. And this home was nestled perfectly in the hills and forest.