What? I'm talking about her butt!
March 7, 2008Cutest cherub cheeks Ever!
What? I'm talking about her butt!
January 25, 2008Oh yeah, and I totally LOVE this Wood Nymph!
January 25, 2008I could never expect this woman to bail me out of jail, because her ass would be parked next to mine in the cell. What I love about her most, is that she treats me like a $100 whore, when most others treat me like a $50 whore. Ah, well, money is money!
If she could just understand that she's always welcome in my home without leaving all of her crap behind!
Oh, yeah, nice behind!
In a world gone mad, we will not spank the monkey, but the monkey will spank us!
May 31, 2007Deep GORgeous eyes.
March 10, 2007without Tree, there would be no fire in my life.
January 9, 2007The first breath of a baby fawn
Dawn breaking through a cold winters Day
Sweet dew on the morning leaves
Tree's sweet laughter.
Tree Rocks. Hard. Rock on Tree!
October 29, 2006Beautiful.
Flowing with youthfulness.
Your spirit and love shine through the beauty of your childs nature.
Thank you for being a part of my path!
Often, I write all day
!Colorado Music!, amoebafunk, Apogaea, Colorado Burners, Doctor Who, DragonFest Colorado, DreamTheFuture, Eat Local, Edible and medicinal plants of the wild, Ethical Consumerism, FAMILYMOONS, Firefly, Girls who can drink guys under the table, I just finished reading..., I love Psytrance and Im not a hippie, In Communicado, JIM KAVANAGH IS AN ALRIGHT GUY!, Mountain Vision, Nature Spirits, Nine Inch Nails, ...
Each person who ever was or is or will be has a song. It isn’t a song that anybody else wrote. It has its own melody, it has its own words. Very few people get to sing their own song. Most of us fear that we cannot do it justice with our voices, or that our words are too foolish or too honest, or too odd. So people live their songs instead.
FROM THIS HOUR, FREEDOM!
Well she's kind of like an artist
Sittin' on the floor
Never finishes, she abandons
Never shows a soul
And she's kind of like a movie
Everyone rushes to see
And no one understands it
Sittin' in their seats
And she's kind of like a poet
Who finds it hard to speak
Poems come so slowly
Like the colors down a sheet
She opens her mouth to speak and
What comes out's a mystery
Thought about, not understood
She's achin' to be
You are not connected to Treesong - Word Witchwant to grow your network?
Word are like leaves, and where they abound,
It feels like I am losing my voice. I realized this morning it is because my heart is now frequently located in my throat, occupying most of the room in my neck. I felt it contract when I dropped Indigo off at school and watched a particularly bright and shiny little girl get out of the car in front of us, her rainbow colored bow struggling to hold back a torrent of black curls, her smile the smile of innocence. Then I paid particular attention to all the children walking into school, each... read moreFri, March 26, 2010 - 8:22 AM permalink - 3 comments
This was my winter:Sat, March 13, 2010 - 7:45 AM permalink - 6 comments
"My finely orchestrated lonliness continued to hum along like the well-oiled machine it had become, fueled by fear and lubricated by heartbreak and disappointment kept alive long past its expiration date." -Treesong 12/20/09
"The past is a TV playing in your mind.
Shut it off!
to the Flowing of the present."
It has been a long, lonely and insightful winter. But now my windows are open, I can hear birds making a comeback ... read more
Whisper into the rockSat, November 21, 2009 - 6:44 AM permalink - 3 comments
someone is listening in a hidden place
receives the word
carries it forward
and makes it come true.
- The Word, by Paulus Utsi
Image - Jorma Puranen: Kuvitteellinen kotiinpaluu, Lagestunturi, 1991
He hid his nail clippings from her for fear she could use them to hex him. She laughed at his silliness. Everyone knows a lock of hair works just as well.Sat, October 10, 2009 - 11:16 AM permalink - 4 comments
Image: Witch Night by Julia Kaye
This story involves a girl waking up with a pillow over her head and a neck massager cradled in the crook of her arm. She knew it was snowing out and thought about making chili to warm her, made from the bits of her last conquest.Sat, October 10, 2009 - 10:51 AM permalink - 0 comments