lily. 100 days.

in korean tradition, it used to be a pretty big deal to make it to the 100th day of life. this first segment of time was crucial because any number of things could go wrong and lead to a baby's death. to get through the first 100 days symbolized that a child would make it. these days, however, the 100th day is an excuse to get together and eat good food. (at least that's my take.) well i like that excuse. 


for lily's 100th day, after i ate a lot of good food, i snapped a few pictures to capture how delicious she currently is. i simply love her to bits and adore her perfect little self. and since her default face is a frown, i have to say that my ego was stroked when i (effortlessly) made her laugh.* 


*ok, it wasn't effortless. i had to make really weird noises and faces while lifting her up and down.


i think she's bored of being a table decoration. 

don't worry girl, i'd be crying too if i got dressed in that outfit. (no offense sister!)

a new love indeed.

ode to the present | pablo neruda

This
present moment,
smooth
as a wooden slab,
this
immaculate hour,
this day
pure
as a new cup
from the past--
no spider web
exists--
with our fingers,
we caress
the present;

we cut it
according to our magnitude
we guide
the unfolding of its blossoms.
It is living,
alive--
it contains
nothing
from the unrepairable past,
from the lost past,
it is our
infant,
growing at
this very moment, adorned with
sand, eating from
our hands.
Grab it.
Don't let it slip away.
Don't lose it in dreams
or words.
Clutch it.
Tie it,
and order it
to obey you.
Make it a road,
a bell,
a machine,
a kiss, a book,
a caress.
Take a saw to its delicious
wooden
perfume.
And make a chair;
braid its
back;
test it.
Or then, build
a staircase!

Yes, a
staircase.
Climb
into
the present,
step
by step,
press your feet
onto the resinous wood
of this moment,
going up,
going up,
not very high,
just so
you repair
the leaky roof.
Don't go all the way to heaven.
Reach
for apples,
not the clouds.
Let them
fluff through the sky,
skimming passage,
into the past.

You
are
your present,
your own apple.
Pick it from
your tree.
Raise it
in your hand.
It's gleaming,
rich with stars.
Claim it.
Take a luxurious bite
out of the present,
and whistle along the road
of your destiny.