RAD THINGS OF OCTOBER

I've been meaning to do a monthly series of things I dug over and over or bought or was given or dig or laughed about or etcetera in the previous month, mainly as a reminder to myself, but I haven't done it (OBVIOUSLY). I'm a week late on the first one, which seems appropriate.


Deep Shit by Stale Champagne
No sucky sad face here. Sure, not as good as Stale Champagne, but daammmmnnnn this album wins the raucous award, dark dark in its clang. I'm sure "The Basement" slithered itself onto my favorite song list so so fast. "I've been livin' in the basement of the world. Sleepin' under a table and worshippin' Satan 'cause of a girl."

Sleeping Bag LP by Sleeping Bag
Took way long to buy this album why? Oh well, wore it out on Bandcamp, HERE LISTEN. Friend said, he mumbles a lot, and yes he does, but it's lovely. They play songs at their own pace and THAT IS SO PERFECT. I like to listen to this in the shower.

Hank by Abraham Smith
I'm stlll figuring out how to talk about this album (something I hope to do in a long essay DO IT soon) but for now, I'll post this video of Abe getting his Hank on (I know I know done that before or twice):


Cowboy Maloney's Electric City by Michael Bible
Here's my Single-Sentence Review. If I ever get my own Vouched Books table, this is one of the first fiction books I'm ordering.

Editing Stoked
We had a busy past month: finishing Volume III (see you in December sucka!), already got a few pieces for Volume IV, assembling our next chapbook (Travis Macdonald's erasure of the Wartime chapter of The 9/11 Commission Report, called "The O Mission Repo: Time"), and accepting our first full-length book for publication (more on this soonsoonsoon). DUH I'M STOKED.

Dating Sara Again
After almost 6 months of being broken up and a few months after our divorce, we decided to try dating again. People say weirdos; we say hey. It's slow and paced and cautious and loving and somehowsafe and FUN. I'm done being an idiot (I hope).

Half Moon Brewery in Kokomo, Indiana
One of our first dates this time around, Sara and I dug this place bunches. MORE THAN OUR WALLETS; too be fair, it's actually priced aightly, four bucks for a pint of beer, 10-15 bucks for an entree. We just drink a lot. Sursly yummy Jack Daniels Steak Marinade and Honey Rye Beerz.

Savage's Ale House
I can't go to Muncie nowadays without checking up on my favorite bar. Fine by me.

A Real Rad Bloomington Trip With My Parents
A two-day trip with my parents and beloved relatives at Oliver Winery, an apple orchard, a drive through the park, Apples To Apples (I WON FOOL), free beer, rad time with my dear cousinpal Darrin, MOTHER BEAR'S, Upland Brewhouse. 'NOUGH SAID:)

The World's Most Dangerous Drug
I can't stop thinking about meth and this documentary didn't help. THANKS NETFLIX.

Season 3 of Parks And Recreation
I don't know when Netflix put this up, but AGAIN THANKS NETFLIX. Burned through it in like a week and I DON'T REGRET IT. I might put my "favorite funny tv shows that I've seen all the seasons of" list as 1) Arrested Development 2) Parks and Rec 3) Seinfeld and 4) The Office. DISCUSS?!

My Job As A First Grade Teacher's Aide
Two and a half months in and I'm like okay okay I could do this another year or two. It's like being the fun goofy uncle; I get to do fun things like PE and field trips and see the neat stuff like learning to read but when the major wacky happens, I just hand them back.

Some Thoughts Upon Moving Home

1. After four years in Muncie, I can honestly say that Muncie is a cool town. Sweet bars. Lots of mostly fun/mostly free activities on campus. A good disc golf course. The Greenway. Killer food spots (Eva's, Greek's, Savage's, Concannons). Pretty much everything I need.

2. I think I'm a take-for-granteder. It's been a pleasure being able to see some people so often/so easy/so reliably. I think it goes without saying that moving is more out of a necessity than anything to do with getting away from anyone. Like Vega said, "Why would I wanna leave? Everyone I love is here."

3. This sucks: Clark moves to Muncie from Terre Haute, I move from Muncie to Elwood.

4. I'm going to start bowhunting again with my Dad.

5. I'll probably play more cornhole (because of my Dad) my first week at home than I did in my four years in college.

6. Now that I'm home and don't have to pay rent, I'll have more money to spend on cool things (read: books and activities). Future books: everything from Dark Sky and Brand Wells' book. Future activities: Bright Eyes/Mountain Goats, Polyvinyl 15 year celebration, Indiana State Fair, AWP 2012.

7. Muncie people: I plan to visit at least every other week, being only a half hour away. If you'd like me to stay with you, I'd be stoked. Also, you are welcome to visit anytime here in Elwood.

8. My parents are awesome.

9a. My last night in Muncie last Saturday was kickass. Got to see a great deal of budz. Had some great one-on-one time with two of my most cherished (and often taken-for-granted; see above) people: Ashley and Sara. Got to see Cody on his last night in town as well. Saw The Bonesetters shred. Fun fun time.

9b. SUPER BUMMED LAYNE COULDN'T BE THERE:(

10. Besides the people, the number one thing I'll miss is being able to go to pretty much every appealing literary/music event in town.

11. I plan to read a ton of books, write many stacks of poems, throw so many discs into so many baskets, hangout with pygmy goats, and learn lots of things about bikes and musical instruments. Hold me to that.

12. Having no car and a good bike in a town with a great public transportation system and plenty of car-pals is sweet. Being able to borrow either of my parents' cars in a town without public transportation and most of my friends a half hour away is sweet.

13. This

Plus This

Plus This

Plus This


14. Things might not have worked out between Sara and I, but they certainly are heading in a better direction than they were six months ago.

15. Still Stoked.

What Matters for 500 Pt. II

What Matters For 500

WORDZ AT MY HEADWEEK

In addition to the sweet visit from Brian Oliu and the Alabama Undergradsthis week, I got to see Mark Halliday and Terrance Hayes read in Indy on Wednesday and Thursday respectively.

Here is a quick rundown of each, followed by one of my favorite poems by each poet:

Halliday: odd quirky personality, like mix of emotionally tender and cynical, style comes across so well during reading, went with Todd, Sara, Cody, and Tyler, Butler has a sweet reading series (HICOK STILL TO COME), got Jab, got Jab autographed, super fun.

Hayes: Really good reader, pace and tone, tried to be funny at times and came off as COME ON MAN, stopped in middle of a poem to explain something=lame, NATIONAL BOOK AWARD WINNER, poems seem deep like goodness, went with Ashley, Cody, Tyler, and DJ, ate at a 50's diner which was cool, U of Indy, Hayes wears two watches, bought Lighthead, got Lighthead signed, so did Tyler, our books look identical.

ODE: THE CAPRIS
by Mark Halliday
from Tasker Street

How do I feel about "There's a Moon Out Tonight"
by the Capris?
I thought you'd never ask

Marcia Koomen lived across Cherry Lane
getting tall, taller than me in fifth grade
and smiling behind her glasses, she knew something.
The summer nights in Raleigh were thick
with something bright in the dark; you could ride
bikes under the moon and in and out of
lampshine at the corner of Wade and Dogwood,
not caring about touching a girl, or, later,
not caring much still but happy to be a boy
who could some day "have" a girl, and be conscious of
a shivering beauty caught in the word girl

There's a girl at my side
that I adore
-the Capris knew something all together
and it called for this new verb, to adore;
something out there ahead of my bicycle in the dark;
I cared a loy about Paladin on "Have Gun - Will Travel"
but did I adore him? Scotty Koomen, years older,
got sort of pale and brittle when he went to visit
a certain girl in his class, he seemed to have trouble
breathing...
There's a glow in my heart
I never felt before
- not exactly in my heart yet but it was
what would be there if I rode just maybe deeper down
Dogwood Lane in the busy dark.

Across Dogwood lived Ann Dailey
who had freckles and an awesome kind of largeness,
not fat but big and this made my eyes feel hot and burny;
she moved slowly doing chores in her yard,
her long tanning thighs seemed sarcastic
as if she knew soon her freckled beauty must positively
carry her somehow out, out and away...And
Shelby Wilson one night kissed her on the lips.
I saw it happen - on the sofa in the basement -
her folks weren't home. Right on the lips!

Amazing lips are in your future, boy. That's
what the Capris were telling me; the North Carolinia moon
is natural and it can find you anywhere;
you have to let the moon paint you and your bike
and the picture of Elvis in your pocket
and it shines down on Marcia's hair
and on the thought of the green eyes of Ann Dailey.
Ride and wait, wait and watch;
you laugh, you shiver in the summer - cool - dark.
You speak of the Yankees and the Pirates but
cut a side glance at Marcia's tall shape
but when she says anything serious exasperate her
yelling Little Richard's wop bop alu bop

but this dodging, dodging will end -
somewhere -
the Capris being on Marcia's side.
Baby, I never felt this way before
I guess it's because there's a moon out tonight

and once that shining starts
no amount of irony will ever quite ride the Capris out of town.
I picture a deep pool with yellow flowers drifting
on the surface. The song pours up
out of that pool.

At Pegasus
by Terrance Hayes
from Muscular Music

They are like those crazy women
who tore Orpheus
when he refused to sing,

these men grinding
in the strobe & black lights
of Pegasus. All shadow & sound.

"I'm just here for the music,"
I tell the man who asks me
to the floor. But I have held

a boy on my back before.
Curtis & I used to leap
barefoot into the creek; dance

among maggots & piss,
beer bottles & tadpoles
slippery as sperm;

we used to pull off our shirts,
& slap music into our skin.
He wouldn't know me now

at the edge of these lovers' gyre,
glitter & steam, fire,
bodies blurred sexless

by the music's spinning light.
A young man slips his thumb
into the mouth of an old one,

& I am not that far away.
The whole scene raw & delicate
as Curtis's foot gashed

on a sunken bottle shard.
They press hip to hip,
each breathless as a boy

carrying a friend on his back.
The foot swelling green
as the sewage in that creek.

We never went back.
But I remember his weight
better than I remember

my first kiss.
These men know something
I used to know.

How could I not find them
beautiful, the way they dive & spill
into each other,

the way the dance floor
takes them,
wet & holy in its mouth.

Yesterday was Sara's birthday, so I wrote her this On Poem

On Your Birthday

When I say I’m retching for you, it’s a good thing. Like the earth vomiting winter, so we can have disc golf weather in the spring. Like your tiny garden out front killing itself to live. That’s me. When I say I’m reaching for you, it’s a good thing. Sometimes, I open your door while you sleep and listen to you breathe the night in and out. I can’t see you, so it’s not creepy. The visuals in my life are sometimes too much to bear. All the fleshy beauty, the words, the baked goods on the counter. When I say I’m wrestling myself, it’s a good thing. Like I’m shouting at the mirror, the one with the I’M NOT WORRIED sticker at the top. Like I’m saying GET IT TOGETHER MAN. Sara, it’s your birthday, and you are not here. But you are somewhere. When I say I’m whistling your name, it’s a good thing. Like please come home. Like YOU’RE REAL COOL.

NEW BOOKS

LUCKY ME

I've gotten some sweet books in the mail that I'm real stoked about.

Sara asked me to be her Valentine. I said yes. She bought me three books. Easy enough.

One was Ghost Machine by Ben Mirov. Yeah, the one with the cool ass cover. Another was Cure All by Kim Parko. Both are highly praised by people that I trust telling me about books. Caketrain has this sweet deal where you can get any two single author books for $12 bucks with free shipping. GET IT.

She also got me How And Why: A Do-It Yourself Guide from Microcosm Publishing. I've dug MP for a long time and this book is no exception, full of DIY guides to bikes and gardening and eduction and etc. I signed a lease with Sara and bro Tyler for next year, so the garage and the backyard are going see a lot of these things firsthand.

Also, I got my contributor copy of the Fall issue of The North Central Review in the mail today. My poem "Words I Can't Get Out Of My Head" is in there. I'm honored.

HAPPY READING

LETTERS; OR I PROMISE I WONT READ THE ALPHABET AGAIN

So, two of my cool friends and sweet bloggers, Ashley Ford and Megan Betz, are doing this 30 day challenge of letter writing. Basically, there is this list (see below interested person) and the blogger is supposed to write letters to those people/things. Okay, that sounds fun. I'm gonna try. Here is the list:

Day 1 — Your Best Friend
Day 2 — Your Crush
Day 3 — Your parents
Day 4 — Your sibling (or closest relative)
Day 5 — Your dreams
Day 6 — A stranger
Day 7 — Your Ex-boyfriend/girlfriend/love/crush
Day 8 — Your favorite internet friend
Day 9 — Someone you wish you could meet
Day 10 — Someone you don’t talk to as much as you’d like to
Day 11 — A Deceased person you wish you could talk to
Day 12 — The person you hate most/caused you a lot of pain
Day 13 — Someone you wish could forgive you
Day 14 — Someone you’ve drifted away from
Day 15 — The person you miss the most
Day 16 — Someone that’s not in your state/country
Day 17 — Someone from your childhood
Day 18 — The person that you wish you could be
Day 19 — Someone that pesters your mind. Good or bad
Day 20 — The one that broke your heart the hardest
Day 21 — Someone you judged by their first impression
Day 22 — Someone you want to give a second chance to
Day 23 — The last person you kissed
Day 24 — The person that gave you your favorite memory
Day 25 — The person you know that is going through the worst of times
Day 26 — The last person you made a pinky promise to
Day 27 — The friendliest person you knew for only one day
Day 28 — Someone that changed your life
Day 29 — The person that you want tell everything to, but too afraid to
Day 30 — Your reflection in the mirror

I'm gonna say right now right here right now right here that I won't do this in 30 days. Also, I'll apologize now if I offend or say something silly-awkward. I'm just doing this like gushy and shit. I thought it would be a good exercise to get my woahness out.

When I'm done, I'm gonna make my own 30 day list and some people gotta do it.

Day 1 — Your Best Friend

Hey you,

Isn’t this funny that I’m writing you a letter and you are in the other room? That’s nice, you being in the other room. Not that I don’t want you here because it’s nice when you are here. But I’m typing and you need to be sleeping, which I think you are, and I sing sometimes when I’m typing and you don’t need that. It’s nice too that you’re in the other room because if you are not in this room you are usually in the other room or soon will be. OH I CAN COUNT ON YOU. I think that’s what best friendship is about.

Another thing best friendship is about is protecting people. You were sheltered as a kid and not always able to be an independent person, so I watch out for you and make sure you don’t bump your head or end up broke. Well, I do my best. Also, the people next door are loud and you are trying to sleep and I wanna go over there and be like HEY SHUT UP MY BEST FRIEND IS SLEEPING. I think they are talking about coasters or toasters or maybe breakfast. I don’t know. But I know yelling at them would not be protecting you in the long run, like opening a can of worms, which usually leads to opening a can of whoop-ass. HAHA. I don’t want them to seek yell-revenge and shout at you when you are leaving for work or throw their old toaster through our window. WHAT DOES THAT SOLVE? I think you are sleeping fine anyways.

You protect me so good. Like that time I went to the hospital and you told me it was gonna be okay and guess what, IT IS. You held my hand and kissed me goodnight and slept in that awful chair. Sorry about that. But yeah, you protected me and protect me and are protecting me now in some awesome you-are-sleeping-but-watching-over-me-not-like-an-angel-though-you-are-angely-sometimes-and-not-like-Santa-because-that’s-just-weird-but-more-like-your-hey-I-got-your-back-whisper-way. I have this head that worries and shuffles and loves in ways that are often difficult or fuzzy or sucky. You’ve got this heart that’s like bigger than my bed. I’m gonna go sleep on your big comfy bed heart.

Goodnight and sleep well,
Tyler

THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN TRAVELIN' AND TRAVELING

So, Frank's all like I'm going to Asia for three months, living out of a tiny backpack, sleeping on floors, etc. Other friends have been to Europe, biked to Maine, toured this country in an old van playing shows to six people and loving it. I can be a jealous dude in one situation: experiences.

I'm talking to Sara and I just blurt out, "I'm going to drive to Portland, Oregon after I graduate (after the May 7th In The Face of War Final Show/Away With Vega Reunion, of course)." Apparently, she wants to go, too, which is sweet.

Here's the vision: Three to four weeks, Indiana to San Francisco to Portland back to Indiana, one car, sleeping at friends/friends' friends house, some camping, some car sleeping, lots of disc golf, good food, major bookstores, cool hiking, money spent mainly on gas.

I'm wanting to do this, because eventually I'd like to go overseas, but I really don't think I'm ready. I've hardly seen this country my own way, meaning no RVs or $25 meals like with Sara's family and no hotels and relative visits like with my parents. My goal is to focus on the trip, the sights, the sounds, the experiences I value. Adding Sara in the mix will help me from getting lonely and give me someone to bounce ideas off while on the road.

So, I'm looking for suggestions/help/etc.:
- Suggestions on booyeah bookstores between Muncie, IN and Portland, OR/San Francisco, CA?
- Suggestions on must-play disc golf courses between Muncie, IN and Portland, OR/San Francisco, CA?
- Suggestions on awesome food places between Muncie, IN and Portland, OR/San Francisco, CA?
- Suggestions on sweet hiking/nature stuff between Muncie, IN and Portland, OR/San Francisco, CA?
- Ideas about cheap/free places to stay between Muncie and Portland/San Francisco?
- Ideas about how to turn a car into a sleepable place?
- Any other ideas or suggestions?

Don't worry I'll ask again and again. I do that.

Really, this is something sweet that I've never had the time/energy/money to do, so I'm super stoked. Any help is greatly appreciated.

RESOLUTION TO WEIRDHEAD SYNDROME

I've made New Years Resolutions before, like stop being chubby (one year that was a success and has stuck) or write everyday (still working on that one), but I think generally my head goes New Year hey Tyler let's do something cool this year. Recently, my head has been wobbling through a minefield of questions and self-accusations about who I am.

Recently, I pulled out this poem to re-read. When Sara asked to read it and liked it, I realized that this poem is gonna be my New Years resolution. I want to apply it to my everyday life, not just the writer side of me. I think it has a very universal, contemporary message about interacting and loving and doing, three things I value greatly. As this resolution is contained in a poem, it has added importance to me, something that will hopefully push me to be the dude I wanna be.

Populist Manifesto No. 1
by Lawrence Ferlinghetti

Poets, come out of your closets,
Open your windows, open your doors,
You have been holed-up too long
in your closed worlds.
Come down, come down
from your Russian Hills and Telegraph Hills,
your Beacon Hills and your Chapel Hills,
your Mount Analogues and Montparnasses,
down from your foothills and mountains,
out of your teepees and domes.
The trees are still falling
and we’ll to the woods no more.
No time now for sitting in them
As man burns down his own house
to roast his pig
No more chanting Hare Krishna
while Rome burns.
San Francisco’s burning,
Mayakovsky’s Moscow’s burning
the fossil-fuels of life.
Night & the Horse approaches
eating light, heat & power,
and the clouds have trousers.
No time now for the artist to hide
above, beyond, behind the scenes,
indifferent, paring his fingernails,
refining himself out of existence.
No time now for our little literary games,
no time now for our paranoias & hypochondrias,
no time now for fear & loathing,
time now only for light & love.
We have seen the best minds of our generation
destroyed by boredom at poetry readings.
Poetry isn’t a secret society,
It isn’t a temple either.
Secret words & chants won’t do any longer.
The hour of oming is over,
the time of keening come,
a time for keening & rejoicing
over the coming end
of industrial civilization
which is bad for earth & Man.
Time now to face outward
in the full lotus position
with eyes wide open,
Time now to open your mouths
with a new open speech,
time now to communicate with all sentient beings,
All you ‘Poets of the Cities’
hung in museums including myself,
All you poet’s poets writing poetry
about poetry,
All you poetry workshop poets
in the boondock heart of America,
All you housebroken Ezra Pounds,
All you far-out freaked-out cut-up poets,
All you pre-stressed Concrete poets,
All you cunnilingual poets,
All you pay-toilet poets groaning with graffiti,
All you A-train swingers who never swing on birches,
All you masters of the sawmill haiku in the Siberias of America,
All you eyeless unrealists,
All you self-occulting supersurrealists,
All you bedroom visionaries and closet agitpropagators,
All you Groucho Marxist poets
and leisure-class Comrades
who lie around all day and talk about the workingclass proletariat,
All you Catholic anarchists of poetry,
All you Black Mountaineers of poetry,
All you Boston Brahims and Bolinas bucolics,
All you den mothers of poetry,
All you zen brothers of poetry,
All you suicide lovers of poetry,
All you hairy professors of poesie,
All you poetry reviewers
drinking the blood of the poet,
All you Poetry Police -
Where are Whitman’s wild children,
where the great voices speaking out
with a sense of sweetness and sublimity,
where the great’new vision,
the great world-view,
the high prophetic song
of the immense earth
and all that sings in it
And our relations to it -
Poets, descend
to the street of the world once more
And open your minds & eyes
with the old visual delight,
Clear your throat and speak up,
Poetry is dead, long live poetry
with terrible eyes and buffalo strength.
Don’t wait for the Revolution
or it’ll happen without you,
Stop mumbling and speak out
with a new wide-open poetry
with a new commonsensual ‘public surface’
with other subjective levels
or other subversive levels,
a tuning fork in the inner ear
to strike below the surface.
Of your own sweet Self still sing
yet utter ‘the word en-masse -
Poetry the common carrier
for the transportation of the public
to higher places
than other wheels can carry it.
Poetry still falls from the skies
into our streets still open.
They haven’t put up the barricades, yet,
the streets still alive with faces,
lovely men & women still walking there,
still lovely creatures everywhere,
in the eyes of all the secret of all
still buried there,
Whitman’s wild children still sleeping there,
Awake and walk in the open air.

Stoked Things

Spent all yesterday in Ft. Wayne with major pals like Sara, Tyler F., and Cody D. Big fun watching cool bands like the return of In The Face of War, a comforting set by Frank Schweikhardt, and another killer performance by Husband&Wife. It was a big all day fest (WE DIDNT MAKE IT ALL DAY=MISSED JOOKABOX, though we were there 11:30 am to 10:30 pm.). The sound quality was great, the crowd was cool, the venue was a sweet pizza place called Pint and Slice (AWESOME NAME HUH?).

In The Face Of War is calling it quits on May 7th, a show featuring a Recovery reunion by Away With Vega. I'm not sure I can handle that much stuff in one show. Last ITFOW show + Vega reunion might be the crumpling of me that would last all summer. I'm not kidding.

Husband&Wife has a new album out called Proud Flesh. This was the first time I've seen them since I saw them play at VGR right after the release. Oh gracious, it's rock n' roll beauty. I can't get these jams out of my head like "I'm completely unaware of the market for grumpy old men trapped inside the bodies of 25 year old kids" and stuff like that. One gripe: the liner notes are in webdigs or winddings or dingdongs or whatever you call them, which is like ha funny then annoying because I might be wrong on lyrics and look silly (see above). Anyways, they just released it on LP too. I passed on it last night, but I have a feeling I'll own it soon.

Last night, I realized there is the Mother of All Shows 5 in January with a lot of the same bands. It's in Muncie and cheaper ($6<$10), but still I'm glad I saw this show. I needed that ITFOW set to rejuvenate me for Finals and the possibly lonely winter break.

Next thing to be super excited about: Vouched Presents Matt Bell, Aaron Burch, Sean Lovelace, Andy Devine. I've never seen Matt or Aaron read and both dudes wail on the page, so I'm stoked for that. Also, be nice to see my buddy Matt again and catch up. Also, Lovelace is a cool writer/reader. Also also, I hear Andy Devine is the coolest person anyone has ever met. Also also also, Vouched is a killer thing that my pal Christopher Newgent has started, and I'm lucky enough to be an Online Contributor. YES THANKS.

I've decided no AWP this year. One, the initial (re)interest came from a cancellation of my trip to Alabama at the beginning of April for Slash Pine Poetry Festival as part of an Alabama/BSU exchange, but that's back on. With the location and the money going to that fest, I'm gonna wait until Chicago next year for AWP. I'm sad to be missing Bob Hicok, Kevin Young, etc. and the sweet readings/bookfair, but DECISIONS MUST BE MADE. Thanks to everyone who gave me advice and info on that decision.

Another thing I'm stoked about is Chicklitz. This is a group of female BSU writers who write some fun and cool words. They're putting out a chapbook, doing a reading, and now having this blog. It's nice to see people GO FOR IT.

I'm not sure what this post says. I'm thinking it says that I have a nice life.

Things My Wife Says Hello To While We Hike In Utah*

Fat chipmunks
Squirrels who are creepily unafraid of humans
Asian tourists
Small German children
Tiny cactuses
Various breeds of Southwestern lizards
Me after I wander off to pee in some rocky corner
The deep canyons, her voice echoing just slightly
Water trickling from the cracks in a cliff
Nuthatches
Stellar Jays
Fat babies in strollers
Purple flowers
Blue flowers
White flowers
Yellow flowers
The sun after a short thunderstorm

*Sara has this incredibly cute and always laugh-inducing way of saying “hellllooo” in her tiny voice to random things as we go.

Get back to this.

People Taking Cool Photos of Me

Sometimes, I take my shirt off when cool music is playing (Charlie Slick) Picture by someone at VGR.


I like Sara and Jeremy a whole lot. Picture by Sarah Dalton, who is in England right now.


Check out that cool shirt! This is like a family photo. Cody's party was cool. Picture by Cody Davis.