Still I Rise
Maya Angelou, 1928 - 2014
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.
Held. Thank you. #addingtotheofeldts
Held
Here we are wrapped up in your arms. Grateful and overwhelmed. Every day we are so much closer. The sun is rising over our fears.
Read moreOde to a Violin in California by Pablo Neruda
A rainy night in San Diego is rare. Sometimes I am so struck by the water on my windshield and I often feel like I'm in a painting. I sometimes feel transported to the streets of Paris and think of Renoir but last night it was something else. It felt more modern and I loved every red light and the parking lot that was the I8. It felt a little like Pablo Neruda or maybe even Tom Waits. Maybe I was just feeling electric because I got a phone call from the Dog rescue that we could take Jake home. Either way traffic and I had a love affair last night. Thanks San Diego.
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