“Do you know," Peter asked, "why swallows build in the eaves of houses? It is to listen to the stories.” ~ J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan


manifesto jazz

the lines i walk are mine.  i draw them myself
and i break the rules; i use
all that stuff they tell you not to
and i turn the music off because my rhythm is
the rhythm of silent stars hidden behind a daytime sun.
a bird is my muse and her name is silence
and she makes her nest in inconvenient places and i
must track her down, but that's okay, it's my job, not
i drew those lines and i stand on them in high
heels, bare feet, flip flops, cowboy
boots, and i stand tall
and i teeter and sometimes my feet
and i want to sit down, but i 

i pay attention.
i look truth in the eye and i expect it to look me back and
we'll see who blinks first. 
i am a teller of truths hurtful sad funny fast;
it is jazz and i am on the stage and i am scatting
baby sweetie honeypie
and you, yes you, right there, i see you look
when i hit that just right note,
the one you feel right up against that sore spot on your soul,
and i smile i know and hope you stay cause it gets

i ask too many questions and i keep too many answers
i am windblown imperfect and moving forward, navigating
by st. exupery's stars;
true north is the tip of my toes.
i follow the flights of owls and write their secrets on the
palm of my hand, sweating those truths away before

i draw my own lines and i use invisible ink and glow
in the dark paint and pencil tips so fine only true hearts can
i mark the curb of the universe and reach out my
hands for gifts always given.
i hold my palms open.



  1. oh boy am i lost in this this morning. i, who've been up since 4 staring at the black sky but cannot make sense of my words as you have yours... i love your windblown imperfectness xx

  2. Oh! Oh! Oh! I am breathless, sun-catcher souled in love with you!!!
    I want this in your handwriting where I can pin it to the wall and read it every day.
    Thank you...

  3. You have the most amazing way with words, powerful post.

  4. oh my. i think i am speechless. no, i know i am speechless.
    but i love this. love.

    "true north is the tip of my toes."
    ...especially in those shoes :)

    and the last word of mine is open, too. I love that.

  5. ye made even an old codger sit back, reflect and grin with this'un. thanks

  6. Sigh! You have a real art for the photography and words. That last line is so special to imagine in my heart. "i hold my palms open."

  7. windblown imperfect .. thank you

  8. perfect words, beautifully down in lines. LOVED the shoes.
    in fond regard, Tilda

  9. So thrilled to have found you via Gigi. Your blog is simply stunning, and YOU are so inspiring.

    Best, Ciara x

  10. Simply breathtaking. I love your words... not just one, a handful, all of them.

    Thank you. I will be meditating on this all day...

  11. yes. what skye said.
    I want to keep your words. Have them somewhere where I can see them, feel them and soak up their meaning.
    I want them in a tangible way.
    God, you are amazing.

  12. ohhhh myyy,
    i love your manifesto!!!!


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