It was the summer of 2010 when I first began writing like this–in a public space. I use the word “public” loosely. Do a few close friends and family count as public? Either way, it was the first time I wrote outside of the bound pages of my journal–outloud–for anyone to see. I remember...
It gets monotonous at times, yes. The daily picture. The discipline. The daily looking, finding, seeing, creating. On day #1 I record on Flickr, 1/365. On day number one it feels like a fresh sheet of paper, a new journal, a book just opened. On day number one it’s fresh. It’s new. It’s exciting. On...
Christmas Eve was rich with anticipation. Snacks were made, the tree was lit, Christmas music played softly in the background. We sat in the living room, my Mom, Dad, siblings and I, around the lit tree, plates of food on the table in front of us. (The one night a year we were allowed to...
I never forgot it–the friends who visit to nestle Chanelle in the crook of their arms in the weeks after she was born. We talk and laugh and catch up on the years since we’d last been together. We marvel at the tiny newborn as we pass her around like a stuffing-filled bowl at Thanksgiving...
ohio
I was just thinking to myself yesterday, ‘it’s been awhile since Summer blogged, I miss reading her words…’ Thank you for writing, ‘out-loud,’ friend.