Homemade peach popsicles

Three am thoughts with Mads…

Thinking about babies. Thinking about music. Thinking about being reckless. Does that mean living untamed, out of control or is the untamed sensatoins when everything makes sense? Because nothing does. Maybe living on instinct is the most trustworhty yet the most destructive.

Grateful. Grateful.

Grateful for humanity, for beauty, grace and gentleness. For truth of hearts spoken and heard. When humans live unafraid that’s where they are untamed. When the truity of a soul is revealed, exposed without personal judgment or reserve, that is the freedom to be untamed.

I don’t want a mediocre life, I want an extravagant one. I don’t want to think and never speak or to guess and never question. To wonder but never seek. To hope but never doubt. TO shine but never fall. Sweet and sour. I want the mosh pit of junky realness. I don’t just want connections or feelings that give you little butterflies in your low belly. I want stars and plummets, untamed hearts, sprinting and standing, giggling and breaking. I want extravagance and foolishness. The most extreme and intense. And I refuse to settle for less.

Beautiful things:

• getting caught in a rain storm

• waking up to sun and coffee

• dancing barefoot

• painting with your hands

• jumping in a fresh river

• sumitting a mountain

• cereal parties

• the feel of fire and the smell it leaves on your skin

• baking a shitty cake

• new baby smell

• a guitar playing to the stars

• birthday packages

• foolish ideas

• kindness.

Everything that is beautiful is beautiful. Always and always they remain. And maybe that’s all humans need, truly: for the beautiful to remain while everything else changes.

…in the rain

(happy day, peanut!)