Wednesday, November 21, 2012

friend of the writer type

What I noticed was a knock and a scream. Then.    ensuing laughter.
Hugs. smiles. A tour and a peppered cheese between buttered sourdough bread.
The fancy Kettle chips.

That's what happened.



There was be like water.
what do we want?
life measured in what you let go.











Writing.



Karen got me my first professional job 'cause she's wildly her. giving.



What she taught me was.
If some
one
of
this world freely gives, palms up, fingers spread, arms outstretched.
Accept it with gratitude.
Inspired to do so yourself.





Our conversations can be exhausting. they should be had no more than often. We're old enough to realize we may never see each other again and young enough to hope.



Today I am grateful for this age, this time in my life when this Earth still grows friends who are here for good. 


It's crazy who we meet.

2 comments:

Chantel said...

This was absolutely lovely. I feel so lucky to have you in my life--even if it's a ways away. :)

Beautiful shot, laughter captured.

Shea Goff said...

Thanks, Chantel. It is lovely having you here. If I am at least partly defined by the people who surround me then yes, lucky. I get it.

Happy Thanksgiving, my friend.