I am comforted that my Stars Hollow is just an hour's drive. We'd been to Lambertville last April and caught the tail end of the Shad Fest, Lambertville's annual spring fair. As much as I record and watch re-runs of Gilmore girls, A. is well aware of how much I'd love to live in my own little Stars Hollow complete with friendly townspeople, eclectic arts, and homegrown eateries and shops. The struggle seems to be, how exactly do I get there? At this point in our lives, the reality is -- gotta be where the jobs are, which means near a major metropolis. I am thankful to have a job that allows me to advocate for NYC's most vulnerable communities and I feel that I am contributing to the greater good. Admittedly it's exhausting, and some days it's absolutely mind numbing. Of course, I fantasize about living in my Stars Hollow where I can run writing workshops that support people to be their most self-aware and participate in fellowship where varied arts encourage all over wellness. Still figuring out my path to getting there. In the meantime, I work on a project or two that feed my Stars Hollow fix.
Bridge to New Hope
snow flurries alongside a familiar friendship's meetup
how are you, great to see you
arm in arm we stroll huddled against winter's backdrop
as we cross the bridge into 2011's New Hope
college memories fit
like an old colorfully mosaic afghan blanket
intricately crocheted by mom
handed down from her household to mine
like an old colorfully mosaic afghan blanket
intricately crocheted by mom
handed down from her household to mine
our centereds' Renewal
