Some walk through these hallways with familiar nods,
Gestures rooted in expectation,
But she shines through walls,
and beyond closed doors,
Her openness a welcome invitation.

If she ever invites you for dinner.
Say yes.
She may cook for you.
She may offer you a glass of wine,
Just don't make plans after.

Take time.

Be her guest.
In her home.
Let traditions unfold.
Be ready to discuss:
Life, death, love, friendship, hobbies, art, passions,
Your own life philosophy.

Be ready to tell your story.
But truly listen to hers.

She's a little motherly.
Very friendly.
Beyond another acquaintance.
She fully embraces,
The people in her life.
She radiates warmth.
She speaks truth.
She is not afraid.

When I grow up, I want to be like her.
Even an inkling in the general direction of the love and hospitality she embodies.
But the beauty of it is,
I don't have to wait.
I can be her friend now.
Be in her life.
There's little I know for certain,
But her presence in my life is no mistake.
I used to dig my arms deeply into the dirt.
Stretching out, curling my fingers, twisting my arms.
It was dark. Cold. Slow. Damp. Difficult.
I spread myself thickly.
Grasping and growing.
Creeping. Crawling.
Snarling. Gnarling.
I knew nothing beyond this existence.
I survived.

One day, strong hands released me.
I was leveraged out of the life I knew,
They reached and pulled and cut me back.
They lifted me up.

On that day I was unearthed.

I was surrounded by light and laughter and friends.
They took me to a party where everyone ate and drank and laughed more.
They took care of me.
Wrapped me up in bright colors.
I go to parades and parties and festivals.

They’ve adorned me.
They’ve adored me.
I include.
I live.
As art.

Happy May Day!

In May of 2004 (wow... 6 years ago!) I went out with a couple roommates, Lauren and Mel, on a simple little adventure.  At the time, we all lived together in a big house on Queen Anne.  So, being May 1st, we decided to go buy some flowers and pass them out to strangers along Queen Anne Ave.

We loved the experience, and did it again the following year. 

Though we haven't quite made it an annual tradition, when I saw May 1st fell on a Saturday this year, Mel and I committed to passing out flowers again this year.  Jenny joined us this year.

Mel and I took the streetcar to the market.  It was her first time riding it.


We went to the market and decided to buy tulips.  We found a vendor where you got 30 (beautiful) tulips for about $20. 


We each bought a bouquet.




We left the market and headed towards Westlake Park.  Obviously, a Saturday downtown had many more people than upper Queen Anne had several years before.  We proceeded to hand out flowers to strangers.  A simple, "Happy May day!" 


A few people reacted in a confused manor.  There are some who turned us down.  But for the most part, people smiled and said thank you.  And that was that.

Yesterday was a busy day at Westlake Park.  There were some very aggressive and judgemental evangelicals, some anti-war protesters, a marijuana-legalization march, and people were gathering for an immigration rally. 

On a busy day like this, it was refreshing to be out there with no agenda, other than to make people smile.   To wake someone up, for just a brief moment, from their routine.  To give freely, without expectation.