blur

{alternate from yesterday}

...and thus, was the week. A fast, undulating blur.

Now it's Saturday and I actually slept in until 8:30 this morning {a rarity}, perhaps because we are lamenting KU's loss last night. And the 6-8 inches of snow that was predicted for us, has so far only produced rain & a little slush, and a very grim sky. I guess it's still on the way...

Now however, with stronger than usual coffee in hand, I'm listening to a little R.E.M. {because it perks me up on a grey morning} and am off to the kitchen to make {perhaps} a double batch of banana bread, because we have that many 'ripe' bananas. And soak some dry beans to make chili for dinner.

How about you, what are you doing this weekend?
H

ps. getting the candles ready, 8:30 - 9:30pm, for turning out the lights.

six

} I like to end the week with a collection. Today and arrangement of items I've been drawing + the type I've been using in the recent pieces I've been sharing with you.

I hope you have a great weekend!
H

five

Howdy,

I have two new pieces to share with you, of the same series that I've been showing you this week.
} "salt and light", graphite, watercolor, letterpress, on paper, 5 in. x 7 in.
} worked on this piece today and don't have a title for it yet, watercolor, letterpress blind embossing, on paper, 5 in. x 7 in.

} May I brag on my friend Rachel, who made that sweet cow tag button in the left column? I'm telling you, out of the blue, she does nice things like that. She's awesome.

Have a nice night. I feel like soup, homemade bread, and chocolate chip cookies. How 'bout you?
H

four

} "1.2.3.", graphite, watercolor, letterpress, blind embossing on paper, 5 in. x 7 in.
} I spotted that pole one evening while on a walk. I like how the light is slightly warmer on the side that was facing the sunset.
} a few of our favorite things {have I shared this link with you before?}
} major texture goodness going on over here.

My spring break is officially over and I resume teaching today. I hope you have a great day!
H

three

{these leaves resemble a hand or wrist turning to me, inspiring me to write this poem. this is merely a draft, a work in progress.}

gravity unfurls
in the dark morning hours.

i lie awake and listen.
with a turning of your wrist,
a rhythm
of ice pellets and rain
pour down our metal roof.

i remember the painting of your face,
calm,
as the waters rise in waves around you.

briefly
i close my eyes,
balancing the notions of hope and optimism.

then
listening
to the distant cadence of a silent language,
the robin's voice slides and echoes upon the wet skin of trees.