Photo by Abigail Rivas |
Abby came to visit for Thanksgiving, and that was delightful as well.
Astoria Column by Abigail Rivas |
Numbers are so weird to me lately. I don't have really any concept of time anymore. I measure my life in moments now. I have not decided if that is good or bad.
I long for beautiful music and even more beautiful poetry. I miss writing. I want everything to change, but I want bits to stay the same.
I want to go back in time....just to tell myself to savor the moment. I spent too much time not realizing majesty was all around me and that I just needed to open my eyes. This is the same message I need to give myself today. If only it were that easy.
I only feel alive on Saturday nights. And by alive I mean more surreal than any other time. With a glass of pinot noir and nameless strangers that are better friends than anyone I've ever known. The air is too warm, but that's okay because it just sets the mood even more. People so still just hanging on every single word. I've never been in a room so full that is so utterly quiet at the same time. But you feel the passion. You feel the thickness of emotions. It's such a treasure to me.
I just want to be surprised. I just want to not want. ha.
love,
chianne