observing techniques of the observer

i'm leaving on a jet plane

just a couple hours more and i will go from here to there. let the end of the year/beginning of the year celebrations and gatherings begin...

two days after christmas...

and i feel nostalgic, content, happy, purple, sad, pensive, hopeful + much/all more. there are days at home when we are transported to another time, another place, to a land of past memories with a crossbridge to the equally prominent land of future memories yet to be made. is it the comfort of being at home, of being surrounded by those who love us, despite everything, that allows the mind a certain space to explore and wander? we are afforded a time away from time that usually occupies our daily mindlessness. in these moments, i find myself longing for the beach, for the sound of the ocean waves in my ears, and the giving way of sand beneath my feet. i desire the fleeting moment of sand between my fingers, watching it fall between the crevices so gracefully until i realize again the emptiness in my palm. for now, my book comforts me. comfort perhaps is the wrong word, as i am not unhappy or maladjusted. but anyhow, for now i can find myself lost in the pages of words until the moment when i can lose myself in the calm repetition of the sea.

christmas memories

"Happy, happy Christmas, that can win us back to the delusions of our childhood days, recall to the old man the pleasures of his youth, and transport the traveler back to his own fireside and quiet home! But I am sure that I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round... as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely. I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year." -Charles Dickens

merry-almost-christmas-eve