In a neighborhood, a couple blocks away
from mine, I walked.
I stood, and I slightly smiled.
from mine, I walked.
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| I wore a thrifted tie dyed tank. |
I stood, and I slightly smiled.
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| I wore a pink bracelet my mom made. |
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| I wore a guitar pick necklace, my cousin made. |
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| I got sassy, but that's not anything new. |
Here's my midsummer day and midsummer night art pages.   |
I go outside my backyard. I hear insects, cars, neighbors' dogs barking, some annoying motor sound from the middle school behind my house buzzing. There are birds chirping, and an airplane overhead. I feel itchy. I'm probably allergic to something the wind is blowing faintly. I hear it gently rustle the leaves in my yard. They sway. I feel warm cement on my bare feet. I smell mustiness and dirt. I taste my peppermint gum. It's not calm and peaceful. I'm getting a headache, so I go inside. July 9, 2012 |
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| It says: The only garden she could grow was with a pen. |
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At night is usually when I practice my guitar. We can hear airplanes, trains, insects, and did I mention dogs barking? I keep a heating pad, and I read until I'm ready to fall asleep. We have these high ceilings with these semi-circle windows, and the sky is often not dark, not black. Here it's like a grey lavender through the window. The other night I saw a huge grasshopper on the window. July 13, 2012 |
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| It says: "You are the author of your life's adventure. Weave your tales of wonder."... by Brancy Britton |
