I've come to test the timber of my heart

Good Wednesday. I am gladly here, writing to you, if only I could give to you poetry, and well taken words. At this moment, I am only sending rambling your way. It's hard to fixate your eyes on anything when your mind is full on excitement. The calgary folk festival begins tomorrow. Need these fingers type more? I went last year, and was drugged on the melody's of iron and wine, the deep dark woods, the acorn, and the decemberists. I have waited 365 days to be high again. Nothing exists as gentle, as understanding, nor as magical as the way you sway when the music plays.

Moving two feet, and ten fingers, to the sound of live music, especially to the beat of your favorite band(ahem, the avett brothers tomorrow) is on my list of things I cannot resist. I have my sun hat, my listening ears, tapping feet, bell bottoms, hands to hold, and love in my heart. Nothing else is needed to feed my body with the scenery and the sounds of tomorrow.








There's a life here. A life that slips through my tiny fingers. My vacant mind can't always sleep in the clouds. I need ambition. I need to set fire to my desires, and live the good life that was meant for me. Maybe it's the way of summer, how it knocks you down, leaves your hands untied, leaves you free. The freedom of summer turns lonesome by winter, I need to write check marks in permanent pen on my (growing) to-do list.






Having a job would be nice. Not so much for the money or the many wedges I will buy, not even for the ever flowing dresses, and gold owl necklaces. I think a job would be good for me. A route outside of my home, a challenge outside of my walls. I could shake hands with strangers, and watch them turn into friends. I do not know if a job will be the answer to all that I'm seeking, but it would bring me a fresh strawberry start. And if there's a good time for a fresh start, it's now.



As for now, I will enjoy the company of my music, the hands of my lover, the heart of my father, and the drive of my mother. There will come a day where lonely days, and freedom are extinct in my existence. So. I must hold onto these days as they come.



Here's a tragic and funny story. While my mom was taking these photo's, I jumped onto a rock.. and snap, there goes my shoe strap.. there goes my "favorite" shoe strap. Tell me, is it a good or bad thing that within 5 seconds of discovering the brokenness of my jean wedges, ensues a laughing fit? I found it amusing, and humorous that I, Amy Nelson, broke my favorite shoes by jumping onto a rock. Now I feel stupid. Rest in peace, and serenity favorite shoes. May you be worn in shoe heaven..

Now I'll leave you with lyrics my lips shall move along to during the festival,


"If you're loved by someone you're never rejected"


"Love arrives safely with suitcase in toe , carrying with her the good things we know, a reason to live and a reason to grow"


"I have some "friends" they don't know who I am, so I write quotations around the word friends"


"there's a house across the river, but alas. I cannot swim, and a garden of such beauty that the flowers seem to grin"


"oh the wine bottle's half empty--the money's all spent. we're a cross between our parents
and hippies in a tent."



Blog followers, It's a good feeling to be back in your arms. I love my Nikon more than the ideal weather forecast. and (for you, who holds my heart) Thank god you see me the way you do, strange as it may be. I love you.

I'll be back with an overwhelming amount of festival photo's.
love,
all ways, always.

wedges(r.i.p)- value village $13
tights- gift
dress- forever 21 $11
skirt- winners $15
bow belt- winners $10
bow in hair- claires $1