my moms hands are my first memory of beauty, i could write entire stories about the way light spills into a room at 4pm in august, i never know what i want until i know what i don't want, how many times i have crossed a street when i could have stayed exactly where i was, do u remember the first time you swam in the ocean? i like the way u can smell the water before u see it, i got cut w a machete when i was 9 and two decades later i still have a scar, always thinking about sky above clouds, i reached inside and examined each piece looking for the source and found me

we all start off as strangers
there are many possibilities
words carry generosity, intent, risk, & intimacy
let all things have their place
have company but dont waste time
make up yr mind–or don't
sameness is overrated
seek inspiration from everyday interaction
be brave even when yr afraid
this is just a wrinkle in the grand scheme
something u feel will find its form
i think better when im not thinking
the human dilemma must be experienced
work less but better
read lots of good books
be in love with yr life
have a good attitude

yummy burrito
wrapped with all things love inside
the guac is extra