Sunlight Multiplying

The garden is now in phase two. I purchased more plants this morning, selecting more or less at random those that appealed to me. I came upon a beautiful vine of Jasmine, which, after much deliberation, I decided to pot instead of plant. This way, I can take it with me when I move. The smell is delicious. It reminds me of a cross between Lilac (which I miss terribly -- they grew all over upstate New York) and Wisteria, yet Jasmine is much easier to contain than Wisteria.

There's still a significant bald spot, as you can see in the photograph below, that needs to be filled. I am thinking of getting two more plants like the one I have in the smaller plot that attracts the butterflies. It makes a terrific sprawling ground cover, with vivid orange and red blossoms. I also bought Creeping Jenny, which remind me of a girl's thin curly locks for some reason. These I planted in the lower portion of the flower bed, and added a tier-like boarder out of rocks to help with irrigation.



I've also got a healthy list of books waiting to be read. There are three books of poetry that Jenn gave me as a graduation gift: Hopkins, Auden, and Hardy. These are her favorite, and they are all important authors I haven't read yet, so I'm really looking forward to exploring their work. I also bought a new Alice Munro collection of short stories yesterday while I was waiting for Jay to get out of his massage. "Something I've Been Meaning to Tell You."

I also have to admit -- I'm rather tempted to just buy the entire collection of Alice Munro's work... it would be a very good investment!

The waiting is the hardest part

It's officially over. I graduated yesterday -- cum laude, research honors. The day was overwhelming, really. I hadn't had more than three hours of sleep the two nights before graduation. The ceremony itself was surprisingly short -- an hour and a half at most. The set-up was elegant and very well put together. Already I've been finding myself wandering around my house anxious and restless. It's like I don't know what to do with myself now that I don't have the stress and pressure of school, or the ongoing projects... or even the direction it gave me.

The morning began with a small ceremony for the honors department graduates, where I recieved a framed award for having completed research honors. Dad, Linda, and Grandma attended with me, and refreshments were served. We had coffee and lunch at the Landmark diner afterwards, just to kill time before the actual graduation. I told Grandma she was my guest of honor. She flew in from Long Island just to see me graduate. She is the most adorable little woman... so tiny! Maybe 90 pounds at 5'6. And just as sweet as pie.

My friend Ashley graduated with me, and we were so glad to be able to sit together and go through this experience with one another. It has brought us very close, which is a blessing to me. After the ceremony we had a house party with family and friends that lasted well into the morning hours! Champagne, wine, bbq, laughter, amazing people, guitars and singing... I couldn't have asked for a better day. It truly was one of the very best days of my life, and I write this with tears in my eyes.

My father also wrote me a card. In it, were the things a daughter always hopes and strives for her father to see in her, and in rare moments like these, she actually gets the opportunity to hear them. Here is what he wrote:

"My dear Jamie,

I've always been so proud of you. You're beauty and charm on the inside and on the outside. Now add to that wisdom and knowledge. I don't know how any one person can come so close to perfection. I love you always. Dad."

I will hold on to this note for the rest of my life, keeping it always near... and times in the future when I might lack faith or belief in myself, I will take this out and read it, to remind myself of my worth... to know that I am loved.

Little red wagon, Little red bike

Springtime is magical. The sudden afternoon storms that open up the skies, the hail, the salty-pavement smell bouncing off the heat-released streets... it's gorgeous, and I love its constant changes. The roses in my neighbor's side yard are in bloom. When the wind blows just right, I catch a huge wiff of their elegant scent wafting in my kitchen and bedroom. This is my favorite time to run. Honeysuckle and Wisteria blend together in the air, showers of petals fall on my head, and the breeze still has that hint of cool in it. It's magnificent; it's magical.

My ever-so wonderful neighbor Jenn was sitting alone on the porch last night when I came home. It is always such a delight to relax with her. She gave me a bean and jiicima salad she'd made, as well home-made smoked shrimp grits with bacon (soooooo good). She's been having an unfortunately difficult time lately. She'd been dating someone that she felt was perhaps finally the one. It didn't turn out to be so, and realizing this has proven to be a heavy blow. Of course, at thrity one years old, it is no wonder she is taking it hard. I can't really understand how someone hasn't swept her up yet... she is such an incredible catch. Brilliant. Insightful. Creative. Interesting. Beautiful. Thoughtful. Deep... the list goes on and on. I strive to be the woman she is, and always count myself blessed to be in her company.

To change course, today is the first day I have not felt the severe ache of loss. This isn't to say that I'm necessarily anymore put-together deep down in my emotional being, but it does say something about the healing process and about my overall outlook in general. I'm still not totally sure what the next step is in my life, but I'm feeling more at ease and less anxiety-striken over the uncertainties.

Next weekend is graduation. Holy cow. Is this really happening? It is... it is indeed. Today also marked a moment for me when I truly got in-touch with a sense of personal accomplishment and pride for all of the hard work, trials and tribulations, I've endured to get to this place today. I am proud of myself. It's been a long, often difficult journey.... a journey that has spanned three states, three different schools, three lost loves, and countless skin-sheadings. It is a remarkable milestone, and truly a moment to step back and really examine all of the changes, all of the history, wrapped up in these last six years. Questions about where I am going from here fade into the background when I think about how much I've done, been through, and accomplished. Sure, there have been many failings along the way as well, but can they really be counted as failings if I have endured them, pushed through, and continued the path of growth and learning? I really don't think so.

I pray for good things in the days to come. I'm looking forward to a summer of travel, writing, learning to sew, moving house, planting flowers, experimenting in the kitchen, investigating graduate programs in journalism, and watching the vegetables sprout.

Music selection: Josh Ritter

Come on, Step inside

FLOWERS!!! Finally! At last!

I sunk my knees into the soil late afternoon yesterday. Playing in the dirt... it's the only thing that will keep me sane after studying math all day long.

So here's what I have so far. This is just the first bed. There's a slightly larger one still empty and waiting for me. Apparently, I over-purchased for this little plot, so I have a good bit of Silva left over (the red blooms). My plan so far, is for these guys to all get big and lush, and hopefully, they wont look quiet as prim and proper as they do at the moment. In the back corner is a large ground-cover type plant that gets thick and bushy, and attracts the attention of butterflies. The little white babies are called White Diamonds, and they wont grow as high as the bushy thing behind them, but will branch out and grow to a height similar to the purple flowers and the red silva around them. I think the White Diamonds are my favorite. I seem to have a preference for tiny, delicate blooms. Baby's breath has always been a dear love of mine, if that tells you anything.

And finally, I gave the monkey grass border a serious haircut, as they were growing all kinds of wild and crazy. Hopefully I trimmed them correctly... I sort of guessed from memory, as we use to have this same monkey grass at my house when I was a child.

Pull me out from inside, I am ready

Sometimes these moods sneak up on me, and I can't shake them.

Like today. Today has been an odd day. Slippery in a way. It began well enough, but slowly, oh so slowly, it turned sour and distasteful. I feel needy. Or, to put it better, I feel in need of something... I know not what. Love. Care. Security? I keep trying to get a grip on what exactly it is that's bothering me, but I'm truly at a loss. It could be the ache in my legs from running yesterday, or the ache in my deformed foot. It could be the lock on my bike that is now broken, thanks to Mike "Cushman" (ugh), whom I let borrow it for far too long and who probably broke it in some drunken stupor he is known for indulging. I cannot now get my bike off of the rail at work. It is stuck there, tied to the metal with a thickly wrapped combination cable. Thank god for my neighbor Jenn who came in as I was leaving with her date and saved me from having to walk home. Needless to say, it would have been a long, long walk.

I will try instead to focus on positive things tonight. I had a wonderful talk with Jess on the phone this afternoon. It is a saving grace that our lives always seem to parallel one another. If there is anyone I can count on understanding me and my (our) life, it is this woman. It's been this way since we were little girls... once remarking with wonder on the silly fact that we both ate a brown sugar pop tart for breakfast with iced tea, and were both January girls. *Twins*.

(photo taken last fall)

And I had a homegrown, bib lettuce salad for lunch today! It was fantastic. A little olive oil, lemon juice, salt and pepper. It needed nothing more. The salad was perfect.

Maybe what I am beginning to realize, is that I can make the kind of life I always idealized for myself, by myself. I don't need a man who will "bring" it to me, who will "inspire" it in me. It's all here, every last bit of it -- is all inside of me. God. The earth. These dreams. Maybe I still struggle with loneliness; that is to be expected. It's a human condition. Memories weasle their way in and crack more places in the broken heart, but you know, most of the time, it's really all okay. I find the beauty in the world. I can; I do. Let me not forget that. Let me not forget that there are always moments when I can dream, and live, when I wake in the morning and take a deep, healthy breath of fresh air and smile with all the gladness of my soul. Life is what you make of it. Sometimes I sculpt the clay poorly... but the wheel is still spinning. So sculpt some more, I say. Sculpt some more.

I was thinking tonight, also, about something my poetry professor (the poet laureate of GA) said to me two semesters ago.... music, is much like poetry. "Take Bob Dylan, for instance. Much of his music is real poetry. The difference between him and us, is that he gets the good fortune of singing the beauty, whereas we still have to work it out on paper and trust that, that paper, will convey the depths of our spirits."

Tonight's music: Girl in the War, by Josh Ritter; and the Counting Crows ((both are so, so goddamn good))

Show me a garden bursting into life

The morning is gorgeous. I slept with the windows open and awoke today with a sweet smelling spring breeze drifting in! I enjoyed the very first moments of being awake, just lying there, watching Moonpie watching the baby finches scuttle around the bush outside. If there wasn't so much work to be done before May 1st, I'd already be knee-deep in dirty in the front yard garden. I actually laid in bed last night, unable to sleep, thinking about what types of flowers or plants would go where. I've been looking at magazines like Homes and Gardens (it's true!) to get ideas. The gardens I like the most are the ones that appear slightly less planned, but more spontaneous, more natural. Last year I just selected three types of flowers and row-planted them. This year I don't want pattern, I want plant-freedom! I'd like to go in to Lowes and just select a huge array of different things... one of these, two of those, etc. And then plant them in the garden like carefully laid ingredients, asking each one where they'd like best to be.

The weekend has been pleasant thus far. Had my bike fixed yesterday morning. Studied all day. Went for a nice long run (6ish miles). Had a glass of wine on the porch with Jenn. The Inman Park festival is in town, and though I wont have the opportunity to wander around down there, I will be riding my bike through on my way to work. The Inman Park festival holds special and unique memories for me. Specifically, the first year I moved here. J and I went, and I was pregnant. A random woman came up to us as we were walking down the street and exclaimed with excitement that we looked like the perfect couple, that something just told her to come and tell us how beautiful we were together. I remember being stunned, because there was no way she could have known I was pregnant. I think, at the time, it was a sign... a sign I couldn't see clearly enough, or didn't listen to as I should have. Things would have been so different. Sometimes I wish I'd made different choices.

Moving into a new house has been discussed recently. It wouldn't be until September, but I think it'd be a good idea. I'd split the rent with two other people, which would reduce my monthly bills significantly. The house is owned by a friend of mine, over in East Atlanta. She has to relocate to Philly, so I convinced her to rent the place out and I'd take good care of it. There is a large garden plot for a vegetable garden in the fenced back yard. It's on a quiet street, where the cats will be able to do an indoor/outdoor kind of thing. I don't think Nairobi will take to that idea, but I know Moonpie would definitely be happier. We've asked Gary, a wonderful friend, if he'd like to stay there with us, and he's given us a definite "yes!" Gary is amazing. He is West Indian, and one of the kindest, gentlest souls I've ever met. He's like a big ole cuddly bear. I'm really excited to have him in the house... as I said to him yesterday, it'll be like having my own personal live-in Buddha!

The vegetables are blooming!! These are carrots:

Bib lettuce... green and red.

This will joyfully be my lunch today!

Where do we go nobody knows

What is this feeling I have tonight? I was flipping through old photographs from Guatemala... from the very first trip three years ago with Joshua. I looked so different. The innocence strikes me the most. In the revelation of a youth now departing, the magnitude to which my life and my self have undergone changes is what apprehends me the most. It is disconcerting in a painful way. Perhaps it is only painful because most of the time these days, I silently remark to myself on how I'm actually growing up. It's in the sudden contrast now, that the void becomes most obvious.

What makes me believe that I'm "growing up?" Is it a new-found sense of confidence, of comfort in one's own skin? Is it the badge of loss? Or is it something deeper... something inherently more painful... true loss of innocence. I relate it most to the point at which a child looses their belief in the make-believe world, when the child can no longer imagine universes to which they don't immediately know are not really real, but created by themselves. In these photographs of the twenty year old Jamie, she still believes in the magic of love. She still believes that love-making is soul-mergingly sacred and not just sometimes sex or "fucking," that her life is bound by fate, that perhaps there are spirits guiding her along, that her tarot cards really might hint of something true for the future, that the lover who just showed up on her doorstep was divinely guided there, to that spot, in that exact moment.

My life has changed. With it, my sense of wonder seems to have been likewise altered -- shifted, grounded by the harsh realities of, well, reality I suppose. But there is a profound sadness, a heart-breaking realization that goes along with this notion of "growing up" -- one that I'm really rather uncomfortable with.

The women in my family have been amazing mentors. Every step along the way I have looked to them as guiding lights, as role models for the way I should consider the world. Becoming an adult has been one great initiation right into this special club of women in my family. It has always been something I strived for, to be one of the "big girls," but now that I'm officially a big, grown up girl, I actually miss what I was before... the innocence of my childhood, that strain which carried over into my earliest twenties but which I fear has been lost to the necessity of being a "grown up."

There's tension here, and internal conflict. I've always personally prized my ability and continual quest for not only growth, but change... knowing how necessary and spiritually healthy it is. But with the changes, comes uncertainly, loss, and pain. Change, that thing I once held on such a magnificent pedistle, now seems more daunting to me than exciting, or even healthy. I don't want so much change anymore. And maybe this is just another piece of "growing up"... we slow down, settle. I suppose, if this is the natural course of things, I hope with all my heart that I do not lose or forget the things that are most important to me: a sense of personal freedom, belief in magic, faith in the spirit, and enchantment with the pure things in life like soft skin, basic loves, and sweet dreams.

I think if we put too much focus on society, all the beauty alive in the world of youth will escape our sights. Keep the eyes wide open, and the heart even wider.

(Photograph taken at age 21)