I Left You a Polaroid in the Theater

A friend of mine who lives in New York now was in town this weekend. It was perfect timing.  I will always love the blending of growth (how things change), and core (how things stay the same at particular roots):  I love the way she loves her family and friends, her puppet making skills, and the way she always appears to be up to something, have just jumped up and ran from her bed, have just dropped from the sky in some makeshift reenactment of a celestial fall, or all three.

Our conversations and adventures always feed me and make me laugh. It's so strange to think back to that day so ridiculously long ago when we met, sheepishly, upon worn red chairs in a small Seattle theater.

(pause)

It is still the season of red.

The sun is out, and that both bothers and helps me.  'Bothers', here, used in the best sense of the word.

I will be slipping messages into red velum envelopes, and hiding them for you in our 'city'.  The glue on those envelopes never quite sticks.

Once again, a seal of wax is the only option.


-k.



(photo honesty:  I had to crop the shoes out of this photo because I simply couldn't stand to look at them.)