A Summer Soul

These nights are why it's called Hard Talks.

"Sometimes I doubt your commitment to Sparkle Motion!" A reference indicating that the person being doubted is lacking in the mock politeness required to convince someone that they really care about attending to events, duties, or rituals that no one should ever be asked to perform.

And pinks, and oranges, and purples...

I'm so excited to finally share this recent developement with you!

I haven't been this happy in a long time.

A trapped soul howls loudest when it can find absolutely nothing to say without curses and tears.

I am being attacked by answers I haven't been asking for. By attacked, I mean pursued, hunted down. Chased.

Outside a quiet grey bungalow nestled in the midst of downtown Houston, Sara Groves' voice floats up over the fence as she warms up for a private backyard performance.

Romeo: "He jests at scars that never felt a wound."

I forgot how big the sun is

It's been a minute. How are you? I'm better, thanks. And a lot of precious things have happened lately, firsts if you will. I sat in on the recording of a song that helped me exit the Charisma pool. I went to a crawfish throwdown and suffered accordingly: guts in my hair and on my clothes - gory, fun stuff. Attended a wedding for fifteen minutes in a fancy star dress (pictured below). Went to my first concert - Mat Kearney's Crazy Talk Tour - with my best friend and ended up being hoisted aloft by him to get in the crowd selfie. I met Andrew Belle and jumped around in a gentle moshpit with Mat Kearney. We met an urban witch ("Raise your hand if you've ever felt personally victimized by Regina George."). I got over my fear of sushi, crab, and shrimp all in one bite ("What's on this?" " Crab !" " !!!!! "). Crawled around in the loft of a tiny house, and planned where I'd put a table and how to overcome limited counter-sp

"If you ever hear feedback [during a sound check or a performance], it means you're not close enough to the microphone, and you actually have to get closer ." - John Ebdon

There is a mantel waiting for me Colored like the eyes of Jeremiah Hovering just above my head And it is heavy So heavy

February 3rd was a perfect, pearl-strung day. And it was all yellow...

Birthdays seem to be getting simpler. The year before last was a messy affair in San Antonio full of idolatry, lust, and underage drinking.

Sometimes, the Bible reads you, but you don't figure that out til the very end of the day. After-sight is 20/20.

Oikos | [Strong's] Greek (pronounced oy'-kos): of uncertain affinity; a dwelling (more or less extensive, literal or figurative); by implication, a family (more or less related, literally or figuratively): home, house(-hold), temple. Today was soft:

I spend a lot of my time reorganizing things that aren't physically there: images, words, color schemes. Spirit to screen for hours at a time, there's something that feels productive about it, like taking a detour down the notebook and pen aisle at the store when really you're just there for milk. The illusion of productivity, I think it's called.

My family moved into this house the summer of 2015. It was built sometime during the '70s. You can tell this by the browns-and-tans-only color scheme that permeates the place, and the fact that the bedroom fans have no light fixtures. Weird.