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.

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

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

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."

Welcome to this aviary of a post. I suddenly have so much to say, and I'm not sure I can get it all out before all the half-way decent bedtimes pass me by. This is going to be a long one, so grab your boots if you're coming with.

If those "Why Are You Single?" quizzes would stop hunting me down in my happy place (Pinterest), that'd be great. My world is filling up with birds and I can barely keep up with the flocks of them. They're the common thread right now, spilling out of every corner; it's a little weird the things that pop into your field of vision once you have established that there is a pattern to find. Does it do it on it's own, or is it all you?

The thoughts that come true are usually the quiet ones that stand just behind your right ear and say, "It won't be this way in six months, just wait."

I'm prepping this space as if people will see it, but I don't yet know what to fill it with aesthetic-wise to get it to resemble me.