hoof dreams

a street called desire

I never really told you about my time in New Orleans. The city is this washed over remnant of tragedy. Lingering body counts still haunt the sides of many unpainted homes, but it’s also a grand beacon of life, energy and music that equals non-stop excitement and inspiration.

It was hot and muggy, and we took the mattress off of the car and dragged it into Kipper’s childhood friend’s apartment. His French alien girlfriend lived there too; she smoked in the house constantly and drank raspberry beer and whisky at any hour of the day. We did regular things like took them grocery shopping at the Ninth Ward Walmart, frequented smokey music clubs, went antiquing, and ate po’boys and shrimp. Side note: Delicious food. I had my first real poached egg there (on top of grits and shrimp and chunks of thick bacon for breakfast) and now I’m obsessed.

miami. 6 a.m.

My car got broken into last night. While we were sleeping. I hate owning a car.

bulls and burns

I may have mentioned bull fights and celebrations of water and Earth at the start of this new year in Ometepe island. We went to the fight, and were the only tourists there. It was packed with paying families sitting eating ice cream and others peeking through the cracks in the wood on the outskirts of the meager “stadium.” All day we searched for the famed island moonshine, but to no avail. We didn’t stay long for the actual fight because my companion that day couldn’t stomach it. But it was interesting nonetheless, and I for one really appreciated being a part of the tradition.

I may not have mentioned scarecrows littering the island weeks before the first of the year, nor the tradition of writing your achievements, failures, those things you hope for and those things you wish to abandon on said scarecrows…

…and the burn on the eve of the new year that secures it all.

slowly but surely

Slowly but surely I am returning to this web world, that is. I know I’ve been gone for a while, and for the last few weeks it has been particularly crazy with trips to the west coast (beautiful weddings and amazing adventures!) and work and being obsessed with my nephew and such. But I got a whole load of pictures developed while I was in Washington, ranging from trips from last year to now. You should be excited because I know I am. Scans are happening and posts will flourish. In the meantime until those scans are organized and published, listen:


Today Gabe called me, not out of concern over the impending doom of the approaching hurricane Irene, but with a giddy demeanor about the sheer power of a storm and his interest in it’s ability to, well, shatter lives and destroy homes. Of course, he is not hoping this happens to me, but his love of storms means he is excitedly waiting for my first-hand account of Irene’s destruction.

This sounds pretty serious actually. No, no, strike that. This IS pretty serious.

I have no experience with tropical storms, but if I walk out of my house on Thursday with a Category 3 storm brewing outside, I might just get swept away. I will admit: I’m kind of as excited as Gabe. Tomorrow I will go to the store to check off my Hurricane Supply List:

-Drinking water for three days

-Water for sanitation

-Non-perishable food items and comfort food like cookies

-Flashlights and candles

-First Aid Kit

The list from the National Hurricane Center goes on and on. I envision I will be eating canned beans and reading by candlelight for the lot of the weekend. But who knows, we could get lucky and in that case I will have nothing to report. Gabe would surely be disappointed.

But seriously. There are trees around here–ones that could very well fall on top of my head and crush me. This might get interesting.

WEDNESDAY UPDATE: “The storm should mostly bypass Florida, however; its path puts it so far off the Florida coast that minimal effects are expected.” So. It probably won’t get interesting. Sorry, Gabe.

these are the days of miracle and wonder

And I believe
These are the days of lasers in the jungle,
Lasers in the jungle somewhere…


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