My latest books.

Tell me what this poem should be titled.

Words chase each other around my head, blabbering, incoherent;
the half-formed heads of fairytale stories, never finished, never ending.
Wispy, like white eiderdown. Slowly floating to the bottom of my skull, there to stagnate in an eternal pool.
Occasionally, gravity reverses itself, they float up, towards the sunny-blue sky that is the top of my brunette head.
Together, the words solidify, and form stories, stories for you to read, stories for me to write.
Is your head the same?

The knowing.

I am love.
I am inspiration.
I am caring.
I am truth.
I am.

I love,
I inspire,
I care for truth.

I yearn.
I search.
I learn.
I start all over again.

My camera's batteries have officially d-i-e-d.

I would love to post some pics of my latest bookbinding projects, but, alas, my camera's batteries hate me. And---- My sibs won't quit using the camera without asking me. Rats. I shall have to find some batteries for my Arches trip, I refuse to go without a working (Read, has batteries that don't die after three photos) camera. Think of all the photogenic moments (and people ;)! {Wow, that looks really weird, if I do say so myself. BTW, my writing becomes more entertaining when my little sister is spying on me, her cute little 12-year-old chin resting on the comp desk "Awww, Bryn! Gosh!"} MWahahaha >:}

So-called weed

Dandelion, I
see nestled like a citrine,
Bright in the Spring grass

I'm telling you now, so listen up.

Alright, I guess I oughta tell you what I avoided telling in my previous post. Blah, blah, blah. I took care of 5 llamas, a bunch of ducks, 3 dogs, 4 cats, a whole lot of plants, and 3 goats for some friends who went to California for six days. Luckily, I had some help from Jesse and Jeru. Otherwise it would have seemed even more insurmountable, and we did it with minimum catastophe. (Note that I said minimum.) Overall, it was fun, but really stressing a couple of times. I'm just glad nothing died :)
The funny thing was, I had really strong deja-vu a couple of times, and it was brought on by some pretty ordinary things. A bunch of jars on the counter, some pink sticky notes by the phone. I was sure I had dreamed both a long time before I had even been asked to take on the task. It was pretty weird, and I'm not sure what to think of it. Oh well, thanks for reading my long update.

Shall I tell you?

I don't like writing updates about my life, but I almost feel like I ought to. Something rather interesting (Though I'm not sure that's quite the word...) happened recently, and I don't know for sure, but you guys might like to hear about it. It's still hard to think about, let alone write about and publish. So I guess I will keep you in suspense and leave that post for another day...

Haikus

Just a few haikus I wrote or finished today. I started writing the first one quite awhile ago, needless to day, I was having a slow day. The other two are kind of about how I've have gained a new ability to see beauty everywhere. I hope you like them.

Monotonicity
Daily life, dismal.
The same things every day.
I need variance.

God
Beauty is inside.
Beauty occupies the air.
Beauty has no bounds.

The exhilaration of Beauty
Stricken, I am pain.
Beauty, a sharply sweet sword.
My eyes are open.

A strike from above (?)

I had the funniest epiphany the other day. (Hmmmm, that kinda sounds like something my Mom might say, minus the word Funniest.) It's about balance and stuff like that. You can't create without destroying something, or at least without taking something apart. Like you can't really build a wooden table or chair without cutting down and killing a tree. You can't sew a cotton dress without killing cotton plants and breaking them down. You can't build a stone wall without breaking up a few rocks. You can't make a knife without burning a few trees and melting down some iron (Which in turn was extracted from the Earth.)
I don't know if this works in all cases, but it's kinda interesting to think about.

Anne's path to her soul, a short sort of story.

Anne was able to really focus on herself whilst in hiding. She had the opportunity to delve deep within her personality and explore. What she found there was even stranger and more beautiful than she could have ever imagined, she found her untainted soul, the true Anne. She had to dig through many layers of Anne-masks in order to get there, and the Anne-masks did not easily give up their hold on her.
Everyone was used to the masked Anne, and became perplexed when she dared to uncover and set free her true self. Their reaction made Anne falter, the masks gained power once again.
Still, Anne tried numerous times. And each time, the people around her were shocked by what they saw. This new Anne was too alien, too strange, and too unfamiliar for them. This Anne was deep, this Anne knew things. Anne had become quieter, less boisterous. She didn't prattle, she spoke with feeling. Anne had a true and beautiful personality under her masks.
But this unmasked Anne didn't have much time or space to grow. It did not have the strength to persevere all of the time. The masks were too familiar, too comfortable. There were two interchangeable Annes, both vying for attention and control. How long this went on, we do not know. Which Anne won out? I think the unmasked Anne won, the Anne that was kind, the Anne that cared and loved. The true, infinite Anne. The Anne that told stories to little children at Bergen-Belsen.