i sat down to write a completely different post but i was playing with the contrast on my image when i saw this version and i was (quite unexpectedly) drawn to it.

this image reminds me of three things.

• an embrace peculiarity sticker from john fluevog that i found while tidying my closet.
• an article i read about a woman who is training for the iditarod in which she said that she used to be afraid of the dark until she started mushing.
• the northern lights, which i have seen dancing on the horizon at least four times recently while taking the pup out for his very late night (or very early morning) potty runs.

here’s to the fun of creative play! wherever & however we find it.

today, i want to share a few of the things i’ve seen around the web of late that have inspired me, moved me to tears, or just plain intrigued me.

:: love your homepage :: a free e-course from allie of allie creative. allie designed my website and i still love it more than i can say.

:: the apple slice & social media envy :: an exquisite piece on the comparison trap from erin of design for mankind. when i am tired or lonely or overwhelmed or afraid, it’s easy for me to think that a slice of someone else’s life looks better than the life i deep-down know is full + rich + perfect for me. erin’s words landed in my heart like a blessing.

:: use your words :: a reminder that words are valuable from shauna niequist. if you wonder whether you should tell someone that you’re proud of them, that you love them, that you see them, shauna’s piece might just hold your answer.

:: the winter of scrabble :: a poem about connection & heartbreak & wordlessness from mccall erickson.

(wondering about the photo? it’s the lights on a copperdog 150 sled dog team as they raced past me. though you cannot see the dogs themselves, it is my favorite of my photos.)

In his book, We Are Still Married, Garrison Keillor included a piece titled How to Write a Letter. As you know, I am a huge fan of real mail, including (especially) letters. His piece made letter-writing seem so friendly + accessible, and was so full of tips + truth, that I would love for everyone to read it.

To entice you – into reading his piece, into writing letters – here is some of his wisdom.

1. Don’t feel guilty about not writing. Letters are a gift. You don’t owe anyone a letter.
2. The only letters that are obligatory are thank you notes, condolence notes, and responses to requests for a visit. Write those promptly. Don’t worry about the others.
3. Some of the best letters are written in a fit of inspiration.
4. Your words don’t need to be immortal, just sincere.
5. Think about your friend. When they become real to you, start to write.
6. Tell your friend what you’re doing, just as if you were talking to them.
7. If you don’t know where to begin, start with the present moment.
8. You are writing to someone who already likes you. Take it easy.
9. Don’t worry about form. It’s not a term paper.
10. Don’t start over every time you make a mistake. Write your way out of it.
11. Writing is a means of discovery. When you come to the end, you’ll know something you didn’t know when you began.
12. Your letter will be an object of art. Your simple lines will show future generations the humanity of our times.

For more letter-writing goodness, read the entire piece in We Are Still Married. Available at fine booksellers and libraries everywhere.

Thanks, Mr. Keillor, for your wisdom! You inspired me to write three letters today and I agree with all of this.

Here’s to a world full of handwritten letters!

i think of this line – from the song let go, by frou frou – whenever the petals on a flower begin to fade & fall.

there is beauty in the breakdown indeed.

always.

{an extremely irregular series: tribute the first, tribute the second, tribute the third.}

dear mark rothko,

your paintings pierce my heart.
your paintings nourish my spirit.
your paintings express the inexpressible.

i wish i could send my deepest appreciation to you on a radiant shooting star. but i believe that love is everywhere, and that our souls never die, so i trust that you feel it, everywhere you are.

you inspire me. always.

in gratitude,
your (not-so-secret) admirer

i just read the loveliest post from photographer~writer~soul-searcher fiona on catching the small joys and letting them radiate out into life.

it inspired me to begin a new journal, and aligns with what i think about when i think about beauty.

for now, some recent moments of joy + beauty.

shared + tear-filled laughter.

spotting a snow rabbit with twig-whiskers on top of a giant snowbank.

peeling apples for crumble and watching the long curly red apple peels fall into the garbage.

the pale-pink sky at sunrise.

the way atlas appropriates the process of towel-drying for his own pleasure by sticking his head into the towel over and over so i’ll continue to rub his head.

an unexpected + delightful voicemail.

handing a pile of colorful + cheerful postcards to the mailman.

do you want to capture your own small moments of joy?

if you feel inspired to share, i would so love to receive them.

i come from the far north,
where the wolves howl,
trees stand straight & tall,
and winter snow blankets the earth in silence.

i come from the great lake,
where sturgeon swim in crystal-clear water,
waves tickle the shoreline,
and the horizon stretches to infinity.

i come from the wild,
where dancing streams turn into cascading waterfalls,
bears devour tiny berries,
and autumn blazes a trail across the land like wildfire.

i come from the night,
where the aurora dances,
the milky way beckons,
and the ink-black sky glitters with stars.

The wild (upper peninsula of michigan). my heart. my home.

{sending heart-felt appreciation to the soulful + poetic liz lamoreux for the prompt: i come from. try it!}

{this photo makes me so happy, even though i don’t know why.}

i stumbled upon a list of inuit words for snow.

the words have meanings like this:

still snow, remembered snow, our children’s snow;
snow that falls in large wet flakes, snow that falls slowly, snow in beards;
blowing snow, baked snow, deep fried snow;
snow at dawn, snow that never reaches the ground, snow that has drifted indoors;
the idea of snow, the snows of yesteryear, quickly accumulating snow;
snow that blinds you, snow that hides the whole village, snow mixed with breath;
partially melted snow, good building snow, blowing snow;
snow sparkling with starlight, snow melting in the spring rain, snow that has been marked by wolves.

snow in the mouth,
snow in the south.

snow, snow, snow.

with that, the ordinary becomes extraordinary.

i will never look at snow in the same way.

there, in the words, lies wonder + magic.

i remember how when i saw the sun melting the sidewalk i stopped and blew dandelion kisses into the sticky summer air.

and the light was like a benediction, a blessing, a prayer – whispered all around me.

and what i mean by that is grace, offered freely and openly. i felt the magic and mystery in my heart and i opened myself to it.

{with thanks to the lovely sabrina ward harrison for the prompts.}

i thought of a brilliant way to combine my love for ice cream, photos, and exploring portland.

it’s an ice cream photo walk!

if you live in portland, and also enjoy those things, mark your calendar for june 30th and join me.

::

my latest tv obsession is a show called the pretender. it aired in the mid 90’s, so possibly i am the last person in the world to hear about it. the show stars jarod, a genius with the ability to quickly master any topic and flawlessly impersonate anyone in any profession.

it’s fascinating to watch him go from a fireman to a navy commander to a forest ranger to an exterminator to an attorney, but the thing i find most enjoyable about the show is something entirely different.

jarod’s character is such a beautiful portrayal of childlike curiosity and openness.

whenever he doesn’t know something or understand something, he asks questions. “if the hole is here, why do they call this the donut hole?” “who is the man in the yellow hat?” “why is he called mr. potato head when his whole body is a potato?”

i want to be that open and curious.

i don’t want to stop myself from asking questions because i’m afraid of looking foolish.

::

atlas decided he wanted his very own facebook page. now he can express his opinions 24/7.

speaking of atlas, do go see my magazine feature parody. i giggle every time i think about it.

::

this week, i stumbled upon a beautiful post about prayer from jena strong.

::

if you ever spy creme fraiche from vermont creamery at the grocery store, you might want to try it, particularly the madagascar vanilla flavor. i discovered it last week and am on my fourth container. it is delicious with fresh strawberries.

::

what is delighting you lately?