BREATHING CHAPARRAL | JOURNAL
Inhaling steadily, exhaling gently into the fieriness of developing Manzanita skin and glistening like Mountain Mahogany.
Thinking about little pumpkin head
that Laura delivered.
I nurtured and nourished her
throughout summer.
The fruit grew just in time.
Carving and eating.
The sweetest we’d ever tasted.
Thinking about how she just
wasn’t herself after the harvest.
How she sat in the ink pot
waiting
patiently
blossoming into
something else entirely.
What an unexpected encounter. You popped under the bike wheels. This must have been quite a rude awakening. Please know that we are all thankful for the fruits of your labor.
Warmly, Jen
Black sand travelled 35 miles from the West.
Red soil travelled 35 miles from the East.
To be in the studio today.
