Today felt like one of those days when you hold your breath until the point of panic or pain and then (pshoooooooshhhhh) a long waking gasp of air sets everything straight again. I felt that way this afternoon. I felt that great sense of OK in the sky in big letters created just for me in a little airplane with a little elephant in a yellow scarf piloting and promising nothing but eternal ok-ness. That was my inclination this afternoon, for an evening of everything is ok, everything is cool, everything is as it should be. The last few weeks I've felt like hiding, unsure of anything, today I have certainty and it's a breath of yes.

Sometimes I want to write letters to people who don't really exist. Well maybe they exist but not in a completely recognizable form. Most of the time they are bits and pieces of everyone else in my life, and creating them out of everyone who has been inspiring. Anyone who I've ever respected or loved. I'd like to have the time to write hand written letters to everyone and no one at all. It's a lost art, letter writing, something very romantic has been disassembled. Then I'd like to leave them places to be found. Left here and there, on bikes, on tables, on chairs, on doors, on pillows, in drawers and cupboards. Left for those who feel forgotten. If only to remove them for their dismay and place them into a moment of the unreal. A moment they will long for and think about while driving to the post office or video store, and wish upon. I want to bring wishes to others, to all that have been something important. To all who have been unrequited.

Sometimes I collect leaves and keep them so that they don't return to dust.

Sometimes I write poems on them and pin them to trees. Sometimes I watch the nape of your neck and touch a drop of sweat with the tip of my finger. A perfect bead rounding the tip of my finger before I flick the tip of my nail and watch in explode into the atmosphere like a poof of dandelion seeds. One by one each holding a code, holding life and your answers.