I am thinking of her and strings of words that matter so much. Full words with experience and deep places in memory. I told her that reading her writing is a bit like drinking a song and feeling the ideas soak in as notes travel down, grasping meaning as lyrics are absorbed, until they become a part of you.

This might be like friendship. I want to believe in the existence of this kind of friendship. Pebbles, hued by the sun and shaped by water pathways, no two alike. You can never find them on purpose, which is inconvenient but more special. They surface in the middle of a moment and they stay, painting beautiful scenes and dreaming with you as long as long will have... as antiques that you guard with all that you can spare of yourself.

They might light the dark and whisper wonder-filled wisdom with gentleness and kindness. And it might feel like a breath.

iPhone 5, AltPhoto | at one with
 © kimberly k. taylor-pestell, all rights reserved

photography by Michael Finster (Blue Kite Photo)

© kimberly k taylor, all rights reserved

Micah came to town and played us music - the loveliest kind - and we talked for hours and laughed for more and shared our dreams together just like we always do.

canon 30d  |  © kimberly k taylor, all rights reserved

I'll send a letter addressed to you

It says you're my California brown and blue

Another chorus line gives into waves

It fades away

So I push through another hotel door

And I pull back the bed sheets till they break

And I sleep so hard I don't even dream

Weightless in the arms of Golden Gate

The only music I want to hear

Is the sound of the last light that disappears

Another songbird gives up its wings

It fades away

- from California Brown and Blue by Denison Witmer

canon 30d:  california, brown and blue  |  © kimberly k taylor, all rights reserved

I remember running outside, too expectant for shoes, grass blades cutting at soft little feet.  But, I didn't notice.  Together, we pulled dry, ripened seed pods from silver birches in the backyard.  There were three of those magnificent, ladylike scapes- each, in one of three corners, bending in imaginary wind.  And crumbling the seed pods into our palms, we held them open to meet breeze, and watched their flight in small clouds of tiny brown specks fluttering away.

And later, laying on my stomach in the living room, scowling and rubbing little feet on the carpet to curb the itch.

{some things stay the same}

Northward on a Friday night

driving 'til the skies are

© kimberly k taylor, all rights reserved

6th Annual |   Art of Discovery  |  April 19, 2012

Students, alumni, professors, clergy, artists, friends, family

Music, poetry, spoken word, dance, theatre,
paintings, photography, drawings

Twinkle lights, sofas, armchairs, flags,

blankets, clotheslines, kites

Sorrow, frustration, anger, fear, honesty,

freedom, joy, and L O V E

canon powershot SD800 IS | © kimberly k taylor, all rights reserved

Photography by Michael Finster of Blue Kite Photo