“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


pinterest, the truth, and nothing but the truth, slightly hidden

i noticed within days that i was choosing images of escape.  gypsy caravans.  rooms that my teenage self would have loved, pillows scattered across the floor.  color.  as imperfect as my real life is, i was choosing even more imperfection.  i was choosing leaving.  i began an imaginary trip, images of stars overhead, makeshift tents in the backs of pickups.  one day here, the next there.  i began to choose rooms unlike the rooms i'd torn from the pages of magazines and saved over the years, all white and spacious; those old ideas suddenly seemed . . . controlled.  suddenly untamed seemed like a better place to live.

i like pretty. i knew that.  i like impractical shoes with bows and high heels.  i like boots and i like things in a certain teal pale aqua color fading into green.  i like girly twirly skirts.  i knew all that also.  i like kittens and cupcakes and polka dots and hands and i like breaking the rules.  i have blue and white boxes overflowing with pictures torn from magazines, files filled with flowers and images of birds, snippets of colors, rooms of white, fields of green, the ocean, the stars, the perfectest of views from the perfectest of porches.  quotes and recipes and moon shaped cookies.  and yet . . .

i began to choose images of half told stories, of secrets.  if i wasn't tired, i wrote the story in a sentence or two.  this coat, i said, looks like the night before christmas.  an old blue door told me the tale of the woman who lived behind it and when i said the birds came to visit, i knew i was writing about me.  one night, in frustration at my fear of travel, i deleted my imaginary trip.

pinterest rorschach.

that's what i told kelly i called it,
when she said you could tell a lot about people by the images they pinned.
i said you can tell a lot about yourself also,
and i'll tell if you will.


i like the presence of life.
just a hint is all i need.
a string of fairy lights across an empty wall says woman.
snow piled on a swing says child.
i like to fill in the blanks. 

presence of life.
a bird on a hand.
a fat cushion on a chair.
a jump into air, arms outstretched.
a barren tree holding the moon.
spring will come.

other people's pictures, all.  

the small story each image tells becomes part of my story.
the one that says i can still surprise myself,
that i still have secrets to be discovered.
i never want to know all the answers.
i am making a map.
i am traveling.


kelly's pinterest tale is here.

you can find me on pinterest here.



  1. This makes me think of that Joan Didion quote: "I write so I will know what I'm thinking."
    Perhaps we pin so we will learn something new about ourselves. At least, that seems like one of the best ways to use it :)
    I love that you used all these beautiful words to tell the story of those pictures.

    1. when we choose this image instead of that one, i believe there is a reason. and thank you. xoxo

  2. I love this joint effort today ... I obviously have more energy in my "pinteresting dreams" as most of my pins are in the diy category. I also have an amazing number of storage solution pins ...

    1. it's like kelly said - you can tell so much about people by what they pin. you can tell who cooks, who has kids, etc., etc. (i have diy stuff also - not enough for a board, though - i just bookmark it. lol! you are more energetic than me.)

    2. I find my alter-ego pins most of those things - I am so without energy most of the time that all I can do is dream!

  3. Such truth here. And such beauty.

  4. for a very long time I have been taking screen shots on my Mac and lovingly placing them in a file called love this. pinterest is my dream social network. no talking to anyone, just slowly finding my own way through all the beauty.

    1. margie - it's funny that you said this. kelly & i have mentioned to each other that the silence is part of the magic. it's not a place for conversations. it's a place for you. i so understand.

  5. This post brought me to tears, not sure why exactly...perhaps because I realize there are others like me out there, right here, because your words & your images reach parts still unknown to me, you're amazing

    1. liz - i cried when i began writing this. i really did - i turned the computer off and watched mindless tv for a couple of hours to move me away from whatever heartbreak this touched. maybe you sensed that. i find that comforting. xoxo

  6. terrified to wander into the pinterest world... I might never return.


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