do it all the time

this one for Jen

Place and time determined friendship. The place is now space and time is now infinity.
During our first walk through these fields I saw you there. And here you are.

For all the morning, evening, lunch, hardware store, boat talks, river crossings, teepees, mud, candle fire settings, song exchanges, yoga and the muscle pain, unlimited imagination and motivation. Happy Birthday, have a splendid one and go to dance!

headed home

I'm sittin' in the railway station
Got a ticket for my destination

I humbled some last words, gave a confused kiss and without touching the ground got on the train. Opened a book and again read the dedication handwritten in black ink. Was it a dream or an illusion?
The darkness fell early and moon, cut precisely in half, had me on his watch all along the trip. It was the half piece of the full moon, which shone in the bedroom left behind.

And finally I'm Home.

Home, where my thought's escaping
Home, where my music's playing

Felt so excited to tell my friends the farm story. Crazy and beautiful story. And finally when the moment came I did not know where to start. And I still don't know. Chaotic fragments that cross my mind.
Cirque, steam machines, tractors, sheeps, teepee, tree house, swing rope, floating boat, reflecting waters, blue windows, blue doors, red roofs, red grounds, rain rain rain, sand, mud, clay, bricks, dust, millions of stars, bonfire, games, jokes, philosophies, gymnastics, unanswered questions, the smell of wet and burning wood, candle light, the ocean, heart beat, little hugs, big talks, laugh, laugh to tears, tears.
And so it goes.
But well.
Time shall put things in their places. It always does.

Trying to recuperate, not to over think, to grasp the present moments in any shape they come: it can be big as love or nature's beauty, or just as simple as they are : nice conversations, good home cooked food, new semester, thousands of pages to read and hundreds to write.
Even deadlines hanging over the head can be a thing to enjoy when not missed.

Had a photo shoot with the folk rock band in this foggy place. Still afraid to look at the results, the fog came every time we went out. My fingers froze though inside I was full of warmth.  

Rain

Lately it has been raining and raining and raining. 

But I am not bored with the rain. Love it when the drops run down my face. Love the colors it brings out. Love when it makes everybody feel so cozy being inside for warm dinner.

And finally it rained so much that we had to take a boat to get around.

Third chapter

Thinking about the third chapter of my master thesis: my own hacienda.

Farm life

In times like these and in times like that with scattered clouds above the curly messy head of mine I find my self in these places, in these moments, with these people where you just feel like home. And they say that home is where your heart is.
The excitement shiver, the bursting energy, manual work, fresh air, smell of the burning wood, sand on toes, sand in the sleeping bags. Little life on red-blue farm.

Yesterday I fell in the forest river while trying to swing over it, laughed to tears, got dry by the fire, walked and talked, cooked and ate, watched and listened to Simon & Garfunkel live in Central Park NY concert, slept and dreamed.