today’s beauty marks
Remember Philip Seymour Hoffman? What a gift he was. I read an article today in the New Yorker about him and was reminded of his mastery. Just thinking about him today made me walk around differently. He could be subtle and awkward and a genius at saying nothing and everything at once. Or, he could command the screen and be tremendous like a thunderclap. I am glad to have been alive in the same world as he was for a little while.
Older women who are mentors and wise counsel. Sometimes I need them to be sharp and clear with me, and coax me back into the game. And sometimes it is so sweet just to hear them tell a story from the other side. So I can remember so many have gone before me. Thank you to these gorgeous souls who pick up when I have called. You are treasures.
Apples and peanut butter, freshly cut and a smudge on each slice. A very beautiful mark on my afternoon.
The sky in our house is everywhere. The windows bring the outside in, and even if I spend the day indoors, I get a piece of sky wherever I walk. I am always reminded of that which is bigger than my little itchy obstacles. You should see it here on days that have storms. breathtaking
I am doing a cleanse. No sugar, no dairy, no gluten, and no alcohol. There is sadness surfacing because I am feeling more than usual. I am not stuffing things behind other things. While hard and a little abrasive, this is a beauty mark in its own way.
A washer and dryer. When I lived in Chicago, I would tote my laundry (often- in the snow) 4 blocks to spend the day at the laundry mat. I would read all day and watch my clothes wash and dry with the quarters I made waiting tables. Having these machines in my home will always feel like one of the greatest luxuries in the world. I never complain about doing laundry.
When I was making coffee in the kitchen, Otis, who is now five, asked his uncle Todd in the next room what it is like to be a father.