365 v.34 (121-135)
I do update my instagram with this project a liiiiittle more frequently. Trying!
121/365
I love ravens so much. When I was a kid I used to pretend I was some kind of werewolf druid, with a raven familiar, and climb the trees in my backyard humming out storylines with my equally strange friends. I miss those pine trees with the low branches— I had one favorite tree in particular, that I could sit in like it was a sofa chair. I was pretty hidden up there and I could watch my yard and my house through the needles and leaves. I was a big daydreamer as a kid, lost in my thoughts, crafting all kinds of stories with ravens. I liked playing alone the most.
122/365
Sunrise in nature is something else. I am not a morning person… but for memories like this? I can adapt. We came to Yellowstone when everything was plastered with a warning sign about the bull elk rut. They really are something to see. From a safe distance, that is.
123/365
Remembering the strange otherworlds as I drift back down to this one. I loved the cold breeze on my face, the misty mountains, taking big gulps of that crisp air. I kept finding myself thinking about winters watching The Thing. There are other bizarre stories I have etched into my life accompanying my fondness for that film and the endless snowscape surrounding MacReady. I have lived many lives. I have a ways to go.
124/365
Coyote in the snowfall. Snapped this after turning around in Lamar Valley, noticing the weather patterns shift in a way that made us leery. The coyote jogged across the road before climbing the hill and looking back at us a few times. Miss all of this terribly.
125/365
Eternally yours, darling. Halloween 2021. Laszlo Cravensworth and his wife Nadja of Antipaxos. We had fun. I didn’t let him take out his cursed witch-skin hat. A success.
126/365
November 1st I groaned and wished it wasn’t so. Thought back to all of this with a yearning, deep fondness. All of the thermal pools in Yellowstone are strange and beautiful and a little bit scary. Isn’t that how we’re all trying to be?
127/365
I wept when Hiro came home from his ultrasound and MRI. Gratitude, fear, relief, and sadness. I felt so guilty about all the fur they had to shave— but he’s healthy and the results were good. He is the strongest little guy. And we love him so much.
128/365
I want to spend more time outside.
129/365
Little face.
130/365
I did not grow up seeing mountains with any regularity; they make my breath catch in my throat. In the presence of such old giants, it’s easy to get lost in a little time-sink of other days and other lives. Remembering a scene, a stark contrast of this vast nature: wires and cables and dusty cardboard boxes. Antiques and someone else’s memories. Two broken things coming together, clattering, stumbling in the dark on creaky wooden stairs. Long summer days of drifting, detaching, coming together again. Lonely nights. So many fractured places where the ceilings caved in. Apartment keys. Bloody knuckles. Being stranded. Being strange.
131/365
You’re here, you’re here, you’re here.
132/365
That Treacherous Breath.
133/365
This will pass. I’ll twist and turn and march my way through it.
134/365
Do you see?
135/365
Journals and shadows. That feeling of falling backwards on a swing, hair pushing forward to my face, pumping my legs. Tracing all those shaky steps I took before. Thinking about the flowering trees lining the streets. Dark liquor on my lips. I lived on a dead end once; I lived in a dead end once.