Diary | Age 17 | Tacoma
Yesterday morning, Michael and I took a train ride to Seattle, where we peeked into bizarre little shops and watched grinning homeless people dance with pretty girls with long brown hair. Keep reading →
February 24, 1995
My Solace
Diary | Age 17 | Tacoma
Moments of sorrow creep upon the weary soul like a wicked fog. It blinds you, engulfs you, until it is everything.
My solace is the touch of my lover’s strong hand on my back.
And then I turn, and bury my whole in his warm chest. Keep reading →
February 23, 1995
My Love of Jazz
Diary | Age 17 | Tacoma
Did I ever tell you of my love of Jazz? When I am driving home after dropping M. off, Elenore (my car) and I listen to the greatest stuff.
The bass beat that makes my innards jump, the tinge of the drums. The solos that you not only can hear but can truly see, twisting and twirling in bright and subtle hues against the blackened darkness of your mind’s eye.
In March, Mikey and I are going to see Dave Brubeck.
My first C.D. and my first jazz concert. Hmm.
Sera
