Starving Artist Ink.

I love everything about it. So you'll probably get tired of reading it, enough! enough already! We get it. You love autumn, you love the smells, you love the crunching leaves under foot, you love scarves and blah blah blah.

But no… You don't get it. and you will never ever hear the end of it. Because this is my fire-this feeds my soul… This change in the weather is just me to an absolute T. It is my core… I am not a sun worshipper-I'd rather go on vacation where I need an umbrella than on one that I'll be in a swimming costume.

My body tingles. It's like it all comes alive from within. The second the temperature drops and the sky changes its path. That moment that the match strikes and tufts of smoke lift… When the trees bend and whisper to each other-and the nights grow chilly and silent…

e.darcy

Out come the wool socks, and the heavy pots full of soup. Out come the needles to knit long scarves to be twisted three or four times around the neck…

e.darcy

Long walks that fill your lungs. Rosy cheeks and numb finger tips…

It's in the air. And I'm loving every bit of it.

There is nothing better than getting a little note from someone. Just a little something. To say 'hey', to say 'I'm thinking about you', to say 'I love you'… Even just a little smily face. Those thoughtful little words written down always mean so much-even when they say so little.

e.darcy

Mom and I used to leave little notes back and forth. I might write her a little note in the morning before she'd go to work. She might leave a little note stuffed in my bag to find as a surprise later… As much as I love getting these little notes here and there-I love giving them even more!

So here is my note to you today;

This day will never happen again.

Whatever that means to you for today–please. Take. Have. Embrace. If I could attach a little lipstick kiss to that, I would…

Okay-I lie. Love Thursday how could I have even pretended to let you slip by…

e.darcy

e.darcy

Puppies. I LOVE puppies. and this one in particular.

Cian and Crystal came over to visit us today-she's been running about the living room, little claws 'click click click'ing on the hardwood floor… The sound-I love. Her kisses-I love. Her little freaking face-I so so love.

We communicated solely through words. For the first two years-we typed words for hours… Occasionally we wrote words on paper, and sent it off to the other side of the world-but every day, we typed. Our conversations were endless, we shared, laughed, loved even more-we also grew frustrated…

e.darcy

He'd call me occasionally-which was always a delicious treat. I'd sit, giddy-listening to his voice. Hiding in my closet so I could talk to him properly… Our conversations on the phone weren't as successful-he says something, all I hear is accent…he repeats… I apologize. He says forget it, I say sorry again and we sit, and say 'soo…..' over and over.

It wasn't until after we met in person that we were able to show ourselves on webcam. Needing the comfort of each others voices and real life movement. Typing became a thing of the past, like talking to a computer instead of your love… Typing made the distance grow. So we talked, sometimes we just breathed… We'd fall asleep with the webcams set up-so we could sleep 'together'.

…I found some love letters that I sent him-while I was still in school. To say that our love has changed since then would be an understatement. We were just puppies then… and sure-while we are still young, we get judged based on our age… But he's my best friend-and our love can only grow stronger with the day.

e.darcy

More than five years of talking, through different mediums-we still find it hard to go to sleep at night, too busy talking, catching up, sharing thoughts and ideas. Our conversations endless…

 My love Thursday? Our endless conversations, our strong communication, our ability to just…talk…for hours. Sharing my world with him, together, and through our words.

My first years of childhood were spent growing up in Washington. Obviously, I was young-but I do have some of the most fond memories from there. A place where I feel my heart strings tug.

I remember days that mom would go to the music store. It had rows and rows of guitars, a jar of kazoo's that I would hum into, and a friendly young man behind the counter. Mom would go into the back somewhere and learn to strum on her guitar…

e.darcy

And when we'd come home, she'd sit in the green chair, rocking and strumming-her fingers finding the right chords. I'd sit in her lap and she'd recline and play a raspy hearty tune from this acoustic.

Years later, when I was sixteen, papa took me to a guitar shop to have my very own lessons on this guitar. We'd go to a back room and sit with a 40-something hippie that smelled of…herbs? medicine? something…weird? The room was small, and stained with yellow-but he taught me to play a tune, chord by chord. My finger tips burning from the thick strings-but he said I was a quick learner.

But now it's my brother who is the music maker. The one who serenades his girl and kids. He plays his guitar everynight before falling asleep..

The raspy old tunes of the travelling guitar…