An evening of desserts, drinks and art
shared with delightful kindreds in
celebration of Lacelit's launch!

Now live:

I recall when we were small

and time went by so fleetingly

with flashlight beams beneath our sheets

and story-telling into dreams

Every November, I remember

sharing a birthday month with you

theme-party planning over Halloween candy

and being so silly and free

How I miss the childhood bliss

imagination, a state of being

while never-ending play-pretending

was found and stayed and came to be

 

a ditty for my big sister, stephanie "blue roses" komashin
on her birthday (based on Japan's time zone)
© kimberly k. taylor-pestell, all rights reserved

A recent milestone birthday brought on an unexpected wave of reflection, introspection and an onslaught of thought bubbles with long, winding trains. Words and ink and blank pages are good for this type of thing. I need to stop reconfiguring and let thoughts be as they are as they are as they are.

The milestone is an interesting concept. What makes it more pronounced than the other years, anyway? Perhaps it's like a emboldened chapter title in a fancy little font so that you remember where you are in relation to the grand scheme of pages before and after.

A pause might be appropriate for relocating parts of moments and conversations, to piece them together to see them more clearly so that they don't go missing before I've learned what I need to learn from them.

Ten years is a long time to remember, friends, let alone a lifetime. So, I'll only try to remember the last ten years for now. I don't want a life of blurred memories if I can help it. So, I'll try to hold on to even the dark ones because they mean something, too. Maybe even more sometimes.

In the last ten years, I have learned...

...how to be okay

...that people have different definitions of the role of "friend," and maybe that's part of the beauty of finding what you'd call a "true" one

...that wearing polka dots has a high probability of elevating your overall countenance

...how to kiss

...that small successes are oftentimes more important than the ones everyone else tells you are most important

...where to go for the best chai tea latte in the whole wide world

...that a beloved childhood long-lost cousin was alive and well all these years, and that he is a kindred spirit for writing the most wonderful letters

...that I'm not stupid

...that going from no bangs to with bangs can change your life, and I should never ever ever-ever-ever go back

...that I can identify myself as an artist, and it can be true

...that making new friends who haven't known me since forever can be liberating because they won't naturally pigeon-hole you the same way

...that I can love far more deeply than I can hate, and it feels like a relief to know

...how much intentional thoughtfulness it takes to create a wedding day that is about community instead of individuals, and how many traditional rules need to be broken for authenticity's sake

...that I overuse the words "true," "quite," "lovely," and "wonder," and probably have too many commas in most of my sentence-strings

...how many of the beliefs I held growing up have been altered to something hopefully more loving, less judgmental, and therefore, more accurate if I really get the whole point of it at all

and,

 ...that every day is actually worth paying attention to (especially when it's cold out)

iphone | francine narnia - Île Saint-Louis 

© kimberly k. taylor-pestell, all rights reserved

This happened.

It's hard to believe that since Jason's perfectly original, overcast autumn proposal two years ago yesterday, we have experienced so much newness. New jobs for both of us, a truly true wedding, the making of our first little home and finding out that being "us" really is the most naturally lovely thing I have encountered.

I am so happy with our little life together even when outside shadows taint clear days. And remembering that the true joy of two years ago, is one of those wonderful things I understand that no one else can possibly share in, except for Jason and me. Because it was just us there in that moment, sitting in a small, curtained photo booth waiting for the flash. And maybe that is why we can't ever forget.

And it doesn't even matter that when we returned to the Italian cafe this weekend, the wide glass windows shown through to a now vacant expanse waiting for a new buyer to come along with a new vision, or that our beloved little photo booth at the newspaper shop broke down and the owner had to bid it goodbye.

There may not be anything left of that day but our memories and priceless photo strips, but the beauty of it all hangs in the air like red paper kites, tails streaming in the wind.

 

iphone | nerdy geekin' thirty

© kimberly k. taylor-pestell, all rights reserved