my dangerous beauty...</h1> <article> <h1>my dangerous beauty...</h1> <p>lea — Thu, 08 May 2008 23:08:20 GMT</p> <a href="http://people.tribe.net/7c01ad96-6bf9-4881-baa8-22768cf417b8/blog/079c99e9-432d-4ec1-b903-0f3f934fbf15"> </a> <div>my dangerous beauty, i love to watch you move, the slight hesitation peeking out from under the confident facade, the slim finger dipping into the wooden bowl 1/2 full with homemade, raw chocolate, you contemplate the rich, creamy texture inside your mouth, your tongue circling, spreading the sweet flavor over your teeth, i imagine you nestling into the cushions spread out on the floor, relaxing completely with sun-drenched skin golden in the candlelight, the warm velvety blanket brushes against the hairs on your bare arm, smooth, toned muscles arching gracefully overhead, my dangerous beauty, what stops you from taking over the world, showing everyone the goddess you have become...</div> </article> <article> <h1>A work in progress..</h1> <p>lea — Mon, 02 Jul 2007 06:17:37 GMT</p> <div>Sometimes I raise the dead, A neighbor from my childhood, dead 19 years, walks an unpaved road in a suit and tie my mother ironed on Sunday's for my father to wear to church. My grandmother, gone my 13th birthday, bakes white bread, kneaded by hand on a kitchen table covered with peeling plastic strawberries I play Hungry Hippos on ragged carpet with a 90-year old woman who raised her family in Thailand. My grandfather smiles an empty smile, his teeth in a cup of water in his hand. sometimes I raise the dead... in dreams.</div> </article> <article> <h1>twisted reality</h1> <p>lea — Thu, 28 Jun 2007 22:44:32 GMT</p> <div>in my dream i rode on the back of a friend's motorcycle as he drove over a waterfall...the road became a waterfall and i jumped off the back, scared to go over the edge... in my dream there were beachball size cantaloupe speared like decapitated heads on the top of 6-foot high stakes, wow, those are big canteloupe... in my dream, i rode with my father in a car through a wide valley somewhere in arizona, and listened as he talked about the new town he had moved to being too conservative....haa!! only funny if you know my father... in my dream, i searched for my passpost in a bookstore with my mother and sister, eating peanut butter on bread....my sister pointed to the crunchy skippy on the counter and remarked, "that one's better"</div> </article> <article> <h1>Movement...</h1> <p>lea — Wed, 27 Jun 2007 21:07:36 GMT</p> <a href="http://people.tribe.net/7c01ad96-6bf9-4881-baa8-22768cf417b8/blog/abdbb1b1-35c7-478c-8d08-5b05b3df0136"> </a> <div>To move is to live. For me that is true. When I am stationary, whether living in place for a while, sitting on a couch for more than a few hours, going a day with no intense physical activity,,,that is when I start to die. It comes slowly, though, and I don't sometimes realize that it has occurred until through chance I begin to move again, I get up and go for that run, I take that yoga class, I bike to the mountains to go hiking....it is then that I feel what has been missing...it is then that I feel myself come alive... sometimes i long to settle, to live in one place and enjoy the security and pleasure that comes with it,,,but the itching, the wonder of other places left unexplored, the knowledge of how much more there is that I haven't experienced, that I haven't touched, that I havent felt,,,all of that is out there and urges me onwards...yes, there are sacrifices for living like that, for living like this, the connections made are brief, some last, most don't, but it is a choice that for now, i have made I need to move....and right now my bike is calling 2 o'clock in the afternoon and still haven't breathed the fresh air outside...for now, this place is where I am, I hope and trust that I will be strong enough to recognize when it is that no longer, when the urge to move has overpowered the curiosity of what exists beneath the surface...</div> </article> </main></body></html>