" a curious day at the museum: a dream "

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i was walking the grounds of an old olympic park, when i saw a small crew painting something along the eaves of a roof’s edge of an open forum.

it was like a large curl of a circular wall with about 35 degrees cut out to create the opening in the wall. then there was a curved roof overhead with a hole cut out in the top center of it in the shape of a serene oval, then another roof escalated over the hole with supports. shafts of light beamed into the space bright and soft.

as i got closer, i realized that the thing that was being painted was a whale statue.

then i realized i was in germany or austria.

one man was standing on the fourth rung from the bottom of this orange ladder and painting the underbelly of the whale statue/carving with a medium wide paintbrush on the end of a long wooden stave. his fellow crewman was telling him that he needed to get a bigger brush and move closer, but the painter disregarded that sentiment.

i had my camera and i wanted to photograph the whale.

a tour group entered the space led by an amish tour guide, and they all got in the way of the perfect shot. i waited patiently for a woman in a red tactical north face jacket to get her shot; she talked excitedly with her mother who was nearby, but was paying attention to the tour guide.

after they moved and i got the shot, i looked around the inner walls, and noticed they were all covered with lush green ivy; a living wall which breathed in and out.

i saw a table set up on the far side of the space and walked over to them; there were a lot of informational brochures.

one of the women from the museum i freelance for was at the table and she asked me if i got the letter. “what letter?” i asked back. “the letter from that woman,” she said.

they were trying to set me up on a date, and i was thankful, but didn’t receive a letter.

i walked out of the area and down to a clear open lake where all the tourists were swimming with their children.

then i woke up.

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'' serendipity & other run-ins "

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sometimes you discover yourself after a lifetime of searching.

sometimes you don't even have to actively be looking.

sometimes you realize you've been there right in front of yourself the entire time.

then everything slows and everything comes into perfect clarity.

the idea of home passes through your thoughts, and resides in the structure of your heart, nestled in-between the cell walls, plasma, and oxygen-rich ephemera.

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" to the time spent wisely "

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as you find yourself at a moment of transition, one begins to realize all of the many things you did, people you've met and grown to love, or loved and lost. we always expect that things will turn out, that they happen for a reason, and that reason is a good one.

friendships flourish under strenuous tests of patience, distance, planning, and life just happening the way it happens. we can almost not take too much credit for the active chaos constantly swirling and whipping about our daily activities.

it's better yet to observe those beautifully meaningful passages of time where you were seen, where you were heard, and where something profound was exchanged, perhaps even if it were the most simple phrase which turned strangers into family.

or was it a single whisper. or was it a shared silence.

we live our lives to the best of our ability, love to the fullest & highest capacity our bodies and hearts may muster. we live for truths, honesty, bravery, kinship, understanding, patience, beauty, delight, joy, and love.

we've had the loveliest time, this time, and in the time we shared, not one moment was i ever ill-prepared for your departure from this city. but i am not surprised or hurt. only the aches and pains of a friend increasing the level of negative proximity, which in this case is parallel to an ever-expanding sense of pride and happiness for your future adventuring.

we go with you in spirit where our bodies may not follow, and in the final days, hours, minutes, seconds, remind you that you were here. you were loved. you made a difference. and you will be missed.

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" seasonal dimentia "

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i mean, c'mon springtime. a few rain showers, a blush of oddly-timed blossoms, and i'm supposed to swoon?

i want sentiment, not just broad strokes. give me a sign that i'm wrong and i'll walk on. this pee pee dance back and forth between chilly windswept overcast and searing sunbeam with patches of cloud-cover is very disheartening.

i believe i am uninterested and remain unimpressed.

you tried your very best, and with a week and some change to go, it may be time to give it your all, or let summer step in and usher you off stage.

in any case, looking forward to what flavor of beauty may possibly be bestowed.

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