August 23, 2016

La La Loving blue entryways

Here’s what I’m la la loving this week . . .

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August 16, 2016

La La Loving Pleated Pink Bag

Here’s what I’m la la loving this week . . .


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August 12, 2016

tears of grief

i’m fascinated by the research of rose-lynn fisher on the topography of tears.  have you seen this? 

it’s a study of 100 photographed tears through a standard light microscope.  going through a period of change and loss.  rose-lynn wondered if tears of grief differed from tears of happiness.  and, as you can see the images are nothing short of beautiful, some evoking the look of a map or landscape (thus the name of the project, topography of tears). Take a look at what our tears tell us.


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August 9, 2016

Letting Go to Grow | La La Lovely

The summer sky was clear and faintly decorated with a few pillow-like clouds. The kind you believe you could walk on, but settle for making figures out of them, instead. Ella and I were driving to the airport. The one that takes forever to get to. She was the radio DJ and I was the driver – scanning stations for Bieber, while I scanned my thoughts for doubts.

The airport always surfaces the same two emotions for me…excitement and nervousness. An excitement to go somewhere. To chase adventure and take in change. And a nervousness to get there.

This time I wasn’t traveling. This time, and for the first time, . . .


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August 4, 2016

Before the House Wakes | La La Lovely

Before the house wakes I gingerly shimmy out of bed, tip-toe into the kitchen, trying to step around the creaks and toy cars, to make my cup of decaf. I sigh, every single day, in remembrance of caffeine and it’s magical ability to take the edge off of morning and myself. I let nostalgia pass as I pour my hazelnut coconut milk creamer and give thanks that the aroma is the same and that I have warm drink to nurse on the balmy back patio. I take a book, a Bible, a journal and a pen. I take my tired self and sit and wake and wait on the day. I take my cares and concerns and put them on paper and send them off in prayer. On the back patio with my decaf, I let things come and I let things go.

Just as I make the same coffee every morning, I find that . . .

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