Oopsies!

Okay, so I've been naughty.

But I promise I'll be back soon! This long hiatus has been plagued with Provo, Utah, clouds, cold weather, and way too much sleeping in. And I just haven't felt up to trying to be witty or observing the world around me in my usual bloggedy way.

Basically I've been a whiney baby.

But the sun is peeking through! My snister and darlingest buddy, Jenabunny, is having a baby (who I already love an insane, auntie-anna, cheek-pinching much), my cutie-pants, poncho-wearing, arabic-speaking, beard-donning boyfriend, Shea, is back from Syria after five months of skype-dating.

I'm in a bad rad book club (I know, I know, I put "bad rad" and "book club" together).

I might just have picked a major.

I'm training for a half marathon (waaah! whhhyyy?).

I have a choir concert this Saturday. [DO come if you're in the vicinity. BYU De Jong Concert Hall, 7:30 pm, march 13th. Tickets through Womenschorus.com It's going to be so great!]

I decided to start performing again. I miss the theatre too much!

And life is good. After all,

"The strongest and sweetest songs yet remain to be sung."

-Walt Whitman

love, winter, and a good dose of poetry,

banana

Cut-up

So bestfriend Marybutton visited me this weekend and we did fun best friend things:
birthday party. IHOP. lots and lots of piano. books. hours of talking, deep and shallow. snuggling. sleeping in.

One of our favorite best friend things is to cut up things. And sometimes we write cut-up poems.

Here's how it happened: I took seven lines each from four random sources (Atonement, a New York Times article, my Jerusalem journal, and a collection of poems by Rilke) and attempted to compile them into a pleasant sounding, almost

coherent poem.

[Us at the Seattle Zoo, years ago]                                                                    The title was chosen at random by miss Mary.

Her Multitudes Await

She hovered on the peripheries.

The stitches were clumsy and irregular;

Gandhi, Monroe, Sinatra, Kennedy.

These indignant thoughts afflicted her.

Sitting on the summit, daylight creeping in

Endless ribbons, inventing new bows

How was she to know they meant nothing in fact?

They were the best of the best in their field.

I was so nervous, tracking every single second of the trip

But it’s something I can’t give up on.

I have been a stranger in a strange land,

And I never, never want to stop singing that.

I’m becoming something of a mosaic expert,

For beauty is nothing but the onset of terror we’re still just able to bear.

The man and the woman part

He speaks only the few words necessary.

Then both look fearfully at the piano,

Two ambulances were parked at the side of the road, their back doors open.

For whosoever will save his life shall lose it,

So I’m not certain who’s crying out.

You could see the handwriting on the wall

After a protest in East Jerusalem.

And in the end you still had the spirit to celebrate.

Yes, the springtimes needed you.

In the middle of December,

There was no time to ask them where they were being sent

I can feel direct deliverance,

For staying put is nowhere.

creativity, blueberry pancakes, and lots of giggles,

Banana

[Us at the Washington coast, years ago]