Melting in the sunny days, the hot grills and the cool nights,

Squinting in the sunlight, seeking the glowing rays that sizzle hidden skin

The afternoons roll into easy evenings, the young night takes hold

The streets fade silent, even the wind subsides

Time is mellow with ease

Cozy in the gracefuly passing

Of an immature summer weekend.

There comes a point in the early throws of summer when- no matter what the weather threatens with rain, wind, cold snaps- I can’t bare to stuff my legs into pants anymore.  The thought of being encased in jeans like a breakfast sausage is too much to bear- with the restricting tight material gripping my legs, with the tight waist, with the lack of air traveling up my legs, makes me cringe with dread.  So skirts, shorts, and dresses are the only options, and if i get cold, better start dancing.

It’s starting to feel like summer is here.  Finally.  After the most dramatic spring ever: fully equipped with a blizzard, with a “baby, bring the winter jacket back out” as an encore, with grey skies, a shy sun, peppered with a few nice days just to keep your hopes up, finally, its summer’s turn.

Here is the proof:  Fresh produce from a local farm, available for food art and consumption purposes.

In order of appearance:  purple and green asparagus, french radishes, strawberries.

With the deluge outside, clothes get soaked to the skin.  There is no damp, the storm is merciless with its fierce green sky and angry whip of wind.

The thirsty seedlings get their first taste of a thunderous affair, with the garden getting the full fury of the first summer storm.

The new additions to the plant family inside the house are dried out like the desert soil, accepting only small amounts of water at a time.  You can smell their green envy of the wet life outside.  The sponge of soil has dried so crumbly (like streusel) that the water will pass right through if applied too quickly.  All night long as the slowly as the drips roll off the trees, so must the soil be hydrated.

I, myself, slowly accept gulps of water all day, mimicking the dry soil of the potted plants. Slowly sipping water all day, I eventually absorb and restore.

It’s the beginning of summer, so that means watch out for sticky fingers, for greed lurking in the shadows.  The thieves know that you are relaxed and carefree, with your guard down, with your excitement up.  Beware of strangers, beware of people trying to take your candy.  Travel light my friends, leave your valuables in the stores, wait until christmas to buy new things.  For now, enjoy the freedom of the sun, the freedom from material possessions, gain adventures and friends, gain experience and a well deserved sun tan.

Art is about continuing to challenge, continuing to change,  continuing to be curious about the world around.  Art is not stagnant, it evolves, it grows, it is its own creature.  You have to listen to the beast as much as you rely on your skill.  Ideas morph and situations mingle to create a unique and mythical creation.

Sometimes the simplest days are the best,

When long work weeks lead to smooth wine

When laughter is all you need to compensate

To smooth out the rugged outline of daily duties

Simplicity is the best, simmered down to sunshine and smirks

You start with all the insane ideas your wild heart desires, and then you narrow it, someh0w, down to the specifics.  Its not like you start with something  simple and then add on.   No, no, its everything, and then you dial back to the basics.  But for a girl like me, with so many curiosities, that is truly the hardest part.

I am getting my dreams and my nightmares confused. The nightmares are becoming real and my dreams are becoming nightmares too.  I am trying to ride on the easy going part of the stress train, but the problem is that there are things out of my control. I want to sit back and let life take the reins, but I cannot- there is too much at stake.

Optimism has turned into spite, excitement has turned into sick of waiting.  My patience is so thin that it is sheer.  I don’t even want my dream anymore, I have given up on that goal.  It’s not worth the sacrifice, too much has been demanded, and not enough is offered as compensation.