Sep 30, 2013

on camp curry & what the woods taught me // yosemite twenty-thirteen.

Walk away quietly in any direction and taste the freedom of the mountaineer. Camp out among the grasses and gentians of glacial meadows, in craggy garden nooks full of nature's darlings. climb the mountains and get their good tidings, nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. the winds will blow their own freshness into you and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autum leaves. // john muir // 
 photo YosemiteNationalPark_-6.jpg
 photo YosemiteNationalPark_-9.jpg photo yosemitecollage.jpg
 photo YosemiteNationalPark_-7.jpg
As long as I live, I'll hear waterfalls and birds and winds sing. I'll interpret the rocks, learn the language of flood, storm, and the avalanche. I'll acquaint myself with the glaciers and wild gardens, and get as near the heart of the world as I can. // john muir // 
 photo YosemiteNationalPark_-4.jpg
 photo YosemiteNationalPark_-2.jpg
 photo YosemiteNationalPark_-17.jpg
Everything is flowing -- going somewhere, animals and so-called lifeless rocks as well as water. Thus the snow flows fast or slow in grand beauty-making glaciers and avalanches; the air in majestic floods carrying minerals, plant leaves, seeds, spores, with streams of music and fragrance; water streams carrying rocks... While the stars go streaming through space pulsed on and on forever like Nature's warm heart.:: my first summer in the sierra || John Muir :: 
 photo YosemiteNationalPark_-13.jpg
 photo YosemiteNationalPark_-11.jpg
 photo YosemiteNationalPark_-12.jpg
 photo YosemiteNationalPark_-22.jpg
 photo YosemiteNationalPark_-21.jpg
 photo YosemiteNationalPark_-19.jpg
 photo YosemiteNationalPark_-16.jpg
on camp curry // 
it's almost like walking like ghosts, only our steps crunch under the summer growth that has long since settled into somber piles of leaves. it's weird thing - footsteps echoing off of silence and being the only living thing on what was like ground zero. camp curry a little crevice in the shadow of glacier point that harbored even more memories of childhood idyllic. while most kids went off to camp for a week in the summertime, we went on an annual family vacation to yosemite every year when i was a kid from age 8 to 13. i formed some of my best friendships here, and there i left them when i walked through the skeletons of cabins and rubble of what used to be the foundations. guess time does really change who we are, or simply reveals it to us. all i know, i have it has revealed to me how much i've changed within such a short course of time. life since then has been a pile of good things and a pile of bad.

brushing my hands through the carpet of moss that has grown over the years on the huge boulder i used to spend hours on as a little girl, was like brushing my hands through the past. recollections of eating noddles in a cup and playing indians with homemade mortar and pestles and gathering firewood and spotting a bear coming out of the woods ten feet away and wiggling my way out of things just so i could spend an hour on that rock with my friend katy made my heart ache. and i thought of all the stories someday i'll tell my children and theirs as well if i am blessed with the opportunity of taking them there.


things i learned in yosemite national park // 

i. i've changed within the three years of absence. yosemite hasn't. not much anyhow. true, half of curry village and all the memories that were made there lie in piles of rubble, and the "activity center" has now become as hushed as a library because it's a wifi hot spot. but cliffs still jut majestically about the walls of the valley, and the river is just as low as ever as it always is during the latter part of summertime, revealing her pebbly bed while what little stream flows down the banks chatters endlessly about who knows what. i've never been able to catch her secrets.   
ii. i don't capture things like i should. period. maybe i don't have the eye, or maybe i'm just learning don't be afraid to take that imperfect still. it's better than never taking it at all. it's taken me how long to learn this?  
iii. the blaring rumble of the generator at 7 o' clock is probably one of the most welcome sounds in the morning. because it means heat. it's amazing what we take for granted, and all the excess we can live without in the woods. 
iv. storms bring the prettiest clouds at sunset. 
v. i don't want to go my days without seeing the stars pinned up on the midnight sky. part of my soul starves.  
vi. i forgot how much you get hurt in yosemite. apparently, one needs to look where they're going when riding a bicycle. otherwise, you might end up like me, nearly swerving into a tree and nursing bruises and scratches for the rest of the week. 
vii. everything tastes better out-of-doors, by the fire, in the company of people you hold most dear. 
viii. apparently, vanilla tea has become extremely sparse {to the point of which my fav. company has stopped making it}. basically, i'm doomed. 
ix. i'm thankful for people who keep yosemite preserved through the years. so that my children shall someday see the cliffs painted in gold and the brooks chattering under the stone bridges of my childhood. 
x. there really isn't any place like yosemite. and i'm going to miss it. dearly.  
xx from a yosemite adventurer 

Sep 25, 2013

oh, hodpodge // vol. iii

 photo Sequoia-2.jpg
 photo Sequoia-3.jpg
 photo Sequoia.jpg
+ I am a despicable human being. {you heard that in Tangle's Rapunzel's voice, right?!}. the end. now before you say, "awww, naw, grace. you're wonderful," let me tell you - I like living in civilization. the woods & mountains are grand for a time {stunning, really}, but there's only so much tree-looking you can do in sequoia national park. after awhile, they all start looking the same: really tall, really old, and really big. anyways, i drove my parent's a bit batty up there with my ceaseless chatting in a confined space for a week. *grins* so, now you may label me as being despicable. 
+ for some reason, I like the sound of "chagrin." no telling why.
+ why on earth have I begun to say "oh, my gravy," out of the blue?! it's...devastating. 
+ I have a thing for catch phrases, okay? what's yours?
+ i knew snail mail's pretty incredible, but gosh. i'm so in love. especially after lettering katie jo and being on insta, my letter writing has been revamped and I'm hoping to ask a few more girls to be penpals. ;) even though i'm a procrastinator. why must I procrastinate?!
+ i'm going to yosemite {well, actually i'm in yosemite right now since this is a scheduled post}. after five years, i'm kind of just a little bit excited.
+ i keep forgetting it's autumn in this HUNDRED DEGREE WEATHER!!!
+ i like knitting a whole lot more than sewing. knitting doesn't give me as much trouble as having a row with my sewing machine.
+ i've run out of british telly. i'm doomed.
+ these posts are way too fun to write.
+ this song is stuck in my head, not that i'm complaining, but when i sing it, i don't remember all the words - one of my pet peeves.
+ i kind of have a thing for sparkly eye shadow {yay, me!}. 
+ i might be getting an iphone. *happy dances for becoming more unsocial than i already am* :D
+ i keep wondering why i haven't met more blogging friends because it seems like everyone comes and visits Cali in the summertime. I LIVE SMACK BETWEEN LOS ANGLES AND SAN FRANCISCO, PEOPLE!!! if that doesn't say "vacation destination," i don't know what does.
+ #hashtagsaremyfriend 
+ twenties music makes me happy. so does swing dancing. obviously.
+ nutella is the best - and then you can nut yourself out after awhile. it's grand in coffee ya know. 
+ bastille is the best, okay. the best way i can describe it is like mumford and sons, owl city, and one republic all met up one day in a hipster coffee shop by mere coincidence and all thought, "hey, why don't we make it work?" and thus bastille was born. and that band would probably hate me if i said that to their face. you obviously don't have to comment on anything that i just said above.  
+ kind of weird that I can officially sing "you are sixteen going on seventeen" since my birthday is precisely one month from to-day. 
+ one word : FIRE. you are so lucky you don't know the meaning of it, and to the ones who DO KNOW {like me who's stuck smack in the middle of this soap-opera of a drama}, my utmost condolences and apologies. :P 

one last thing: you're the best. and dontcha forget that. 
p.s. is it just me or do i sound like a ditzy blond  in this post [no offense to blondes; i surround myself with blonds since almost all of my closest friends are blond - oh, gosh, I'm making a muddle out of this run on of a sentence apology. and so i'll stop talking]? have a gorgeous day, lovey! 

Sep 20, 2013

and maybe i was just dreaming out loud...

if we're only looking back, we will drive ourselves insane 
as frienship goes, resentment grows
we will walk our different ways. 
but these are the days that bind us together, forever
and those little things define us, forever 
// bastille, "bad blood" // 
for a second there, 
I thought you were home. 
after all those lonely nights 
i tossed and turned 
sifting all my dreams 
through the sheets, 
i thought 
i had finally come home 
to dust carved tables and chairs 
and lattice window sills that 
needed a good cleaning.

// and then i left again // 

and things c o l l a p s e d 
into what they always 
had been. i knew 
that they would
when i stepped out the door 
for the last time, 
just as strongly 
as i knew i was falling in love
every time i stepped through the 
(i was fighting hard not to
but falling more and more in love 
every time that door swung open 
and creaked shut, 
was hopelessly inevitable). 
 yet i knew, it wouldn't 
always be this way. 

// it couldn't be. //

i was the impossible girl after all.
but it's still a hard thing to swallow 
when home shuts as easily 
as the leaves of a book 
when that front door slammed 
behind me for the last time. 

life would change, 
or settle back into what you 
call normalcy, 
when i stepped out again 
just as quickly as i came. 
i would start living my life 
in pieces again. 
yes, i would live in the past, 
and you? you would be well 
ahead in the future. 

and you know what happened?
just that.

and maybe it was all just in my head. 
maybe that home really didn't/doesn't 
exist anywhere else except for 
my journal pages and 
the instagram photos 
and the facebook statuses - 
in the fading past that is better 
locked up in the dusty attic. 
maybe i was merely those 
few hours in your head, 
when you are years in mine. 
maybe i was simply dreaming of 
all that we were and all that we could be - 
the life that i would live if ever i 
had the opportunity - 
when i glanced up across the room 
to see you smile and laugh without any restraint. 
guess i was simply 

// dreaming out loud. //

now, i'm here
wondering how i'm 
going to get myself back
h o m e.
listen // one || two || three
|| some instas from late aug. - early sept. || 

Sep 11, 2013

2:00 A.M. tea // a photo essay

 photo hellosweettea.jpg
 photo 2AMTea-5.jpg
 photo 2AMTea-6.jpg
 photo 2AMTea-2.jpg
 photo 2AMTea-3.jpg
 photo 2AMTea-4.jpg
 photo 2AMTea-10.jpg
 photo 2AMTea-9.jpg
 photo 2AMTea-12.jpg
 photo 2AMTea-11.jpg
 photo 2AMTea-13.jpg
 photo 2AMTea-14.jpg
 photo 2AMTea-7.jpg

funny how those little moments - those smallest of things seem to take the most room in your heart. like those nights by the fire were probably my favorites {wonder why?}, and I kind of wonder how much fun we really would have had without that 4:00 AM chat when everything {scarily enough} seemed to spill out on the cold wood table {do you even remember half of what I said? i'm afraid you probably remember the other half I can't recall}. i can't remember the last time it felt so good to be honest. vulnerable {really vulnerable} but really truly honest. like, past the point of no return honest. but i knew you wouldn't judge - or, i nearly bit my lip off after stammering something i never thought in a million years i'd have the courage to say. and i think, that's what glues friendships. those chats early in the morning, when we could see the silhouettes cast by the dawning sun that you somehow forget because of your drooping eyelids and near exhaustion but not really.
now, i'm back to the beginning again. you're living your life, and i'm living mine - or struggling to at least. it took me a week and a half to stop crying when I woke up with a start in the middle of the night knowing you weren't here - or I wasn't there or that we weren't together. that empty distance has filled its void with miles and miles of that bleak road, but in my heart i know there's a few more memories tucked in there that weren't there before. two AM teas consisting of fandom cuppas brewed with giggles, squeals, and loads of doctor who included.

xx the girl who waited for that 4 AM chat and the 2 AM tea
postscript // will be gone for a few weeks, darling with many adventures to share. love ya all too much than words can say. 

Sep 1, 2013

roots & wings

 photo longing.jpg
 photo longing-2.jpg
 photo longing-3.jpg
i think i'm living my life in 
a piece here 
where I call home 
a piece in the future
and in the past
ruing over my cuppa nostalgia
and a piece with you
& you & you & you,
and maybe i'd be lying
if i didn't include you
and a home that used to be
and one that may have never
really existed except for in my mind. 
every piece is scattered
across the world 
in places i've never been 
and people i've never met, 
and in lives i shall never 
have the opportunity of 

i've got roots
that i've adopted 
that are as deep 
as the ones sopping up 
the bits of water 
under the sandy riverbed. 
my heart breathes
every trough and crest
from here to the seaside.
but my wings grow 
stronger & stronger 
steeped with longing
and promises of 
something more over
that hill, that crest, that valley
that ocean of loneliness.
my heart reaches for 
where the sky melts into 
the sea; that hem of blue
no words can describe -
for the rays dripping
down on the other side of 
the world
as the sun spills under the horizon,
for those little indentations
on the globe
spinning with my lingering

sometimes poetry is the only means of untangling my myriads of thoughts.
sometimes i've got too much time on my hands to do so. 
'ello septembre. you're going to be splendid, arentcha?