" In those days, at that time, declares the L-RD, the people of Israel and the people of Judah together will go in tears to seek the L-RD their God. They will ask they way to Zion and turn their faces toward it. They will come and bind themselves to the L-RD in an everlasting covenant that will not be forgotten." (jeremiah fifty, four&five)

memories, wisdom

years ago when i lived transatlantic, there was a beautiful woman with curls and strawberry in her blonde and she taught me about seasons about about writing. there were books to write her life in. i have been traveling and recording in a book of maps.

i spend a lot of days wondering how much more travel there could be. transatlantic. transcontinental. and, i wondered, how long can a season of transition last? but here i am. in a home, that isn't quite a home, but must be one for now.

this afternoon my father called from new york city on his way to jerusalem. this is his typical farewell, and today, a piece of advice. "kate, embrace it. be lonely. explore the feeling. that's something new, right? maybe a story will come out of it." and with that, he was off to the holy land.

and, on a different note, i bought a new book today even though the old one was not finished. it is bound with rope and pictures a nest. and, i hope i do.

family.

before i left, when i was just deciding to leave in fact, a wise old soul young woman warned me about the loneliness.

when you go, she said, i will be worried about the loneliness. that's what i would think of if i were to go.

i told her i was looking forward to it. it might be nice to be lonely for a while. at the time, i craved such solitude.

it didn't come right away. the first five months i have been surrounded by hearts and love and welcome. and then, all of a sudden, it was thanksgiving and everyone had a family and i longed to look into little hannah's eyes and talk to her about her shoes. and i started crying. and there haven't been many days since that i haven't cried from need of a family.

i need a family.

Happiest Place in America.

Apparently, San Luis Obispo is the Happiest Place in America, second only to Denmark in the world.

A man from Delta Sky magazine wanted to take my picture for an article.

trouble adjusting.

I find that when I'm in the first hour of a nine hour work evening, and I'm already pressing my tea to my forehead, I really need to gear up for a tough night.

There are 21 days until home. That makes 138 hours of work, 3 bands, 2 Christmas parties and a whole lot of coffee and wine.

pictures, at last

Picture of life.

James came to visit me and we looked a sea lions.

Me & momma.

Dad and I climbed rocks to feel the spray of yosemite falls.

This is a bed & i own it. I often regret that I don't have a mounted moose head or antlers or something.

I really love my mini shelf

Roadtrip map

Desk complete with King's College coaster.

My favorite part.

another thought, in the same vein.

another thought, in the same vein.

i am tired of all this love thrown at me. i am tired of my affections asked for in places i cannot give in order to assure others they are okay. i am tired of love that will not go anywhere.

and this is what i ask for everyday. and this, i think, is why i love books with worn binding. and this is why i am quiet in groups of strangers. i ask for secrets. i ask for secret love. i ask for love in secret places. in the pages of a book that i read all by myself. me and a story, communing. in my bedroom with my door closed and my windows blocked by embroidered curtains. i have secrets in my book and behind my curtains. simple and waiting to be found.

i am a woman with old veins. i am not old. i have one hundred years to live before i go. i am old. i have lived one hundred years in twenty-three. i will not stop going. there are villages to build and huts to dwell in. there are children to be born. there are frames to fill. i live in a past that i did not create and work for a future i will not see. this is way of eternity. this is time i yearn for life never ending.

independence makes me tired. i much prefer a simple life of submission. bending and bowing to a glory beyond all my pride. i much prefer the life of family and of quilted history. it is all much different than i imagined, no longer hoping for my name to be remembered, but rather hoping for my history to be discovered.