I spy with my little eye something that is brown
Snack time // Currently residing in Fayetteville, AR // Teacher. Sister. Lover. Learner. // Time takes care of me // All pictures taken using my beloved Pentax K1000 or my trusty iPhone. All words by me. Enjoy <3
How many types of crazy, besides your own, can one person deal with in a lifetime? I’ve been reading a lot of Paulo Coelho and he has made me think a lot about this. Everyone has his/her own breed of crazy to live with every day. Then you have your partner’s and probably a child or two…then how many more can you handle? 10. Max. And that is why I love my dog and my cat so much.
Which city was this taken? The one I’m in today. It could be in my favorite city though. The flowers. The architecture. The walkable, urban-ness of it all. Hopefully this time next-year I’ll be walkin by the same kind of building on the same kind of street to the same place with a totally different name and address.
I’m going to try something new. I’m going to try and use this little photo project of mine to also share some words. Not with every photo, but with some. I’ve always wanted a place to share words, thoughts, little poems, cheesy things, etc. and since this place is very safe (I think around 2 to 5 people I actually know see these posts; and if so, maybe only 1 aaalways sees them) I think it’s perfect. Feel free to skip any and all text I put here from now on//or else, enjoy.
Recently I’ve been struggling with the fact that love means so much to everyone and yet also means something completely different to everyone who says it/feels it/sees it. I love trees. I love that nature has so much beauty and wonder to offer us. I love my dog when he cuddles me. I love my best friend when she listens to me whine and makes me stop saying “thanks” when she hangs out with me. I love my boyfriend when he teases me and then pulls me close to kiss me and apologize. I love my family even when they argue, even when they smother me with hugs, even when they pry into my personal life. All of those loves are different, and yet the same. I’ve also been struggling with the idea that love can change. I don’t want it to change. Not my idea of it. I want to feel happy and loved as much as possible. I want to share that love with everyone. Especially the students I teach every year and the animals I try to shelter. I don’t want it to mean for me anything else than it already does. Mostly I want to learn to relax in love; whatever, wherever, and with whomever it may be—love isn’t about understanding, it’s about accepting. This I know will not change for me.