Today.

Today was refreshing. There's something cleansing and rejuvenating about a good run in the rain. 

I think one of my favorite things about running is how conscientious I am about the breaths I take. Things that become lost in their rhythmic nature require scrutiny and attention. 

“Try to learn to breathe deeply, really to taste food when you eat it, and when you sleep, really to sleep. Try as much as possible to be wholly alive, with all your might, and when you laugh, laugh like hell, and when you get angry, get good and angry. Try to be alive. You will be dead soon enough.”

William Saroyan

Classic.

Where The Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.

scintillating. perennial. classic.

i am continually enamored by poetry. all poetry. maybe i'll gain the gumption to post one of my poems on here someday. maybe. maybe not.

either way, let's go on a walk.

Home.

I want these stairs/slide in my next house.

It's funny how we label our home as the place where we most often reside. In the case of today, I live at the Panny. sick. 

But I'd like to say that my home is more of where I discover and create my most consequential memories. Moments of clever banter mixed with the distinct aroma of charcoal as our minds hum to serene Kate Nash melodies in Lauren's chipotle house. Or that summer in the mountainous region of Tehachapi, California. I remember climbing over and under small boulders that seemed like cliffs and climbing into tree holes that were fabricated caves. My world was an infinite abyss. And therefore, so were my memories. I only spent three weeks there but I still smell the gravel under my shoes, as I fell in love with running, treading the paths that marked the memories of new beginnings. 

A little duplex in Edwardsville, Illinois. A little dorm room in Waco. A two-story in suburbia. I still miss that place, that home. And that's exactly what it is and who I am. I am a girl with many homes, many hearts and many memories.

I can't help but mull this over in my mind as I recently signed the lease to my first home, a little cottage off of tenth. A little home. With the insurmountable potential.

But for now, as I sit in the chapter tallying the final orders of Theta Olympic T-Shirts, I can't help but smile and embrace the fact that I will leave this home some day, walking away with my own memories, making this another place I call home. 

With that said...

Dear Math Teacher, Please bring Lauren home to me. 

Sincerely, Elle

i like it here. here in this place.

so·lil·o·quy [ sə lílləkwee ] (pluralso·lil·o·quies)

noun

Definition:

1. talking when alone: the act of speaking while alone, especially when used as a theatrical device that allows a character's thoughts and ideas to be conveyed to the audience

2. section in play: a section of a play or other drama in which a soliloquy is spoken 16th century theater is marked by the emergence of soliloquies. soliloquies became the pulpit for the tragic hero to reveal his subconscious, allowing the audience a glimpse into the illogical mind of the character. however, during these soliloquies, the character himself remained completely self-unaware and conflicted by his own cognitive tendencies. so although the audience may gain a greater understanding of the character-his very essence, the character continues to  aimlessly voyage onward towards self-discovery. welcome to my soliloquy. good day.

Forever and a day. Just one.

so i haven't posted anything on this little here blog in about 14 years. and by that i mean 6 months. obvi. 

so much has changed. running my first marathon.  finding photography. finding lucinda. finding new things. appreciating old ones.

i hope these next 6 months are as effervescent.

2 corinthians 7:1 at 11:56 am. let us.. let us.. let us breathe and remember why it no longer feels familiar.

the other day, i was with my grandma. two human beings from two different worlds allowing the air and smiles perforate social norms and securities. topic of conversation: preserving childhood innocence.

there's something about jumping up and down when you are excited. i'm going to start doing that more often. and raising my voice when i'm elated over a friend's success. i feel like as the momentum of life surges us forward, we only raise our voice in anger or to receive attention from another ear in the room. bit by bit, our sincerity has transformed into superficiality.

lauren asked me what i loved most about jesus today. and i believe it to be his sincerity. 

i'm jumping up and down.