i grew up outside of detroit. and the longer i’m gone, the more proud i am to call it home.
not many people who have never visited the city, or great mitten state would have any clue of just what a wonderful place it is.
detroit has the heart of a midwesterner, enough soul and groove to keep motown alive for centuries, and a little sass to keep things interesting.
i took this the night before i left town in july. i was driving from my dad’s house to my mom’s, staring at the sky the entire way. then i remembered that my camera was in the back. i pulled over along the 2 mile drive and tried my best to capture the feeling. this doesn’t even begin to instill the comfort and warmth of that moment.
went i was home for the week in july i decided to spend the day downtown taking photos. capturing what it is about detroit that consumes my heart.
i’ll post some of those, but right now i am craving this. this sunset. this 80 degrees at 10 pm. this warmth. and green. and homeness.
i’ve been wanting a dog for a while. like, years, a while. but only recently have i been actually in any place to even consider being able to take care of a little pup like he deserves. i’m heart set on rescuing a french bulldog. after being heartbroken when i wasn’t selected as the forever home mommy for a super special guy, i’ve just been continuing to put it into the universe. i’m ready. for a little new best friend. until then i make friends in my neighborhood whenever i can. this is one of them.
life was feeling pretty surreal. i was in thailand. at the home of someone i already considered a friend. the home. she lived there. and i met her two days prior. and i was there because another friend, with whom the universe demanded i interact, was living there as well.
three weeks prior i purchased a plane ticket to thailand. four days prior i purchased a night at a beach resort on an island off phuket. and there they waited. for the universe to play its hand. i met amy on koh yao yai, through robert. she’d been living in asia for fourteen years and opened her home to him as a soft landing. twenty one days later we were welcome in by them both. as air con and laptops were consumed i decided to talk a walk around the house. allow my senses to take everything in.
and he appeared. first by the pool. then by the weeds. then, perched next to me, as i fiddle with my camera. he’d hop from bush to tree to leaf to bush. but always ended up within three feet of me. i’ve always liked dragonflies. they’re bright and energetic. usually flitting around with a playmate. spreading happiness. but at this moment i loved him. i had no idea why. the closer i got the less he hopped. i got a vague flash that dragonflies meant something symbolically. but the humidity fogged my memory as i spent time with my new friend. i don’t know how long i ended up just standing there, snapping and staring. but it was a long time.
fittingly, the following is what a dragonfly symbolizes: the main symbolisms of the dragonfly are renewal, positive force and the power of life in general. dragonflies can also be a symbol of the sense of self that comes with maturity. the dragonfly has been a symbol of happiness, new beginnings and change for many centuries. there are many cultures that believe that the meaning of a dragonfly is happiness, courage and subconscious thoughts it means hope, change and love.’
when i was little i always loved magnolia trees. staring at a magnolia tree in my front yard, at no older than eight or nine years old, i decided right then and there something about my adult life. i said, when i have a yard, i’m going to have a magnolia tree. a big one. there is something unreal about the beauty of a magnolia tree in the spring. like you’re watching life blossom before your eyes as the pinks and creams of spring and happiness, sunshine and new beginnings erase the grays and sorrows from winter.
the promise of the healthy green buds. the analogy of spring really can’t get any better than a magnolia tree.
oddly enough, i never lost the intensity of that sentiment for magnolia trees.
as a adult, at the age i could have imagined i’d own one myself, i still marvel in the ability of a towering magnolia, unreserved in its desire to burgeon, to stop me in my tracks. i’m not sure i’ve ever even told anyone in particular of my love for this unapologetic perennial.
on a beautiful spring morning in a back yard in metairie, lousiana i was stopped in my tracks. these buds mirrored my own craving for freshness and sun. at a point of physical, mental, and emotional overload during my first mardi gras, this magnolia tree demanded my attention. demanded i watch life unfold. i let life unfold.