August 21st, 2014

The prettiest thing I ever did see, saving for a special occasion. 

August 21st, 2014

I did a small bit of yoga this morning on the beach, then I looked up and saw this. 

(Source: thatkindofwoman)

August 21st, 2014

I woke up this morning and went to the beach, except for the very sporadic walker, the beach felt like it belonged to me, and me to it.

From my instagram @tkowkat

(Source: thatkindofwoman)

August 5th, 2014

Slower morning. Sorting through my clothing, drinking a big jar of water, better tasting coming from crisp glass. Eat a tomato like an apple. Surrounded by a mess. Take a shower, sigh and squeak when the hot water hits the sensitive lower part of your back, where it dips in. 

Admire your feet and shoulders, the way your hands move, creating suds with the rolling of your fingers over the bar of soap. Peppermint. Steamy mirror. Lacy bra under a utilitarian sports version, cut offs, sleeveless tee.

Preparations for another day painting walls in a building that has housed families, doctors and servants, and then years and years later college students who don’t care about sealed up arched doorways, or original woodwork, hardwood floods hidden under bad carpet that acts as armor against cheap college furniture and couches that get abandoned. 

Bones of a building. Bones of a body. Not so different in the morning, noon or night. 

July 25th, 2014

My life of late, to see what I’m doing day to day, place to place, check out my instagram @tkowkat. 

(Source: thatkindofwoman)

July 17th, 2014

Last week, I went on an adventure to a cheesemaker’s milk house, and it was interesting and wonderful. Huge thanks to my friend and the owner Stefanie for letting me come and visit the Valley Milkhouse at the Covered Bridge Farm. 

July 10th, 2014

You don’t have to tell me you love me. You don’t have to write it down, or say it as we sigh into each other. You don’t have to scream it to the world, or spell it out in texts.

You don’t have to say I Love You. 

I don’t really believe it from the mouths of men. You love me. You LOVE me. You love the way your hands fit between the curve of my waist and my ribs. You love the way my bottom lip is lush and damp. You love the way I can flip over an egg and make it perfectly sunny side over. 

You love how confidently I raise a glass of whiskey to my lips, or press my mouth to yours. You love than I laugh loud, and dance with abandon. You love how I blush, or how my freckles align on my arms. 

You love these lovely things that encapsulate who I am. But you don’t love me. I love me. 

You don’t love the arch & ache in my back, or the veneers on my teeth. You don’t love the hate I feel when I am fearful. You don’t love my tears as they fall down my face. You don’t know how my thighs brush, or how my fingers bite into the flesh of my palm. You don’t love the prickly hair that grows on my legs. You don’t love the crookedness of my eyes, or my ears. You don’t love the hurt I feel, or the desire I have. The greed in me to be a lover and a fighter for someone who loves and fights for me. You don’t love that I have more to say, or that I tell you you’re wrong. 

You don’t have to love that I’d rather you claim me, now with your hands and mouth than pretend to be civil. Be wild with me. Mate me. Dig deep for instinct. 

reach deep into your gut to gain the slight, raw feeling. I’m not fragile in form, I am enviable, and respectable. I am strong, I know what I want, and especially what I don’t.

So, don’t tell me you love me, because I don’t believe false promises, or even your half truths. 

July 10th, 2014

In real life lately: Enabling friends to buy plants, afternoon light in the publishing house, haul from Eckerton Hill, coffee table goodies, and a head of romaine frizzed with homemade vinaigrette dressing. 

July 10th, 2014

I’m a Eucalyptus mom. Find me posting all my plant babes over on instagram: @tkowkat.

July 5th, 2014

Being a one woman construction crew, with the exception of occasional help from my mum & pops, and Mike for lending me the tools I needed.

I’ve ripped out a drop ceiling, a particle board ceiling, pulled hundreds of nails, de-mounted a 20 foot long piping system that weighs about 300lbs, scrubbed, scraped and brushed a brick wall over and over and over again, scrubbed & hosed down a cement floor, wrestled painted shut windows, chased wires, and cut my hands & arms up more than I’d like to admit. Always keeping in mind, under that rubbish rug is a hardwood floor waiting for a bit of TLC. Not just yet, though that’ll be the last thing. Pushing myself a little harder each time I go down there, because this is my future. 

Here’s to being an extreme DIYer. Now, I just wish I had a beer. 

July 4th, 2014

You can tell me over and over that you love me. 
"I love you."
You can tell me in smiles, in the way your arm wraps around my waist.
"You look so beautiful."
How it fits me perfectly to your side.
You can tell me each time we’d wake up in the morning
"You know, I love you today."
You can tell me you love me when you look at me from behind the bar.
"Can I get you another drink" and I would shake my head no. 
You can slide your hand from my knee up and grin at me. 
"You are pretty." Your tone surprised.
I know your heart and your eyes are telling me how much you love me.

I know you still love me, but you never wanted to grow.
"You’re young, you’ll figure it out."
I know you still love me, but you didn’t remember my goals.
"She.. well, she.. Sweetheart, what do you do?"
I know you still love me, because at 3:30am you texted me.
"You are so lucky to be as beautiful as you are.
I know you still love me, because your father looks at me and nods.
"Whatever happens, know you’re a good one."
I know you still you love the way I was there, to hug and hold, to fall asleep on.
"You’re my human pillow." with a bark of a laugh

I know you loved my lips, and my hips. 
But there’s more to it than that.
I wanted it all.
I wanted the ugly, the rough, I wanted it all.
I didn’t give my all, the ugly and rough, because I knew the love you had for me was in smiles, and kisses.
In how soft and loving my touch was.
How my laugh echoed around your apartment.
How I worked hard to make sure you knew I could provide if you provided back.
You didn’t provide any nurture to my soul, my bear, my beast of a man.

It broke, and wore away, but only for me.
Because, I know you still love me. 
Whatever that means for you. 

June 26th, 2014

Over on the ‘gram the vibes are very summer. Wood surfaces, greens are greener, the days are longer and hotter. 

Details: Brussell Sprouts sautéed in bacon grease, plant dudes, berry hunters with the pup out at my parents, rooting some plants, locally grown veggies made into a mid-day salad, popcorn with a bit of salt to combat snack cravings, frozen blueberries + cucumbers + ice + water, postcard from my sister taaylow from Denali. 

Instagram: @tkowkat

June 17th, 2014

After spending the winter in a relationship, this summer came quick and it came with a lot of eye openers.

I’ve been single the majority of my life. I’ve actually spent more time with tumblr than I have dating or being in a relationship. 

I broke up with my ex because I felt extremely detached from myself, among other things. So, I’ve become my own partner. It’s only me. I’m the one who I wake up to, who I go to sleep with.

I’m the one who motivates myself to do an extra power set when working out, or push myself a little harder to deeming a posture in my yoga practice. 

I’ve spent a lot of time alone since moving out of my parent’s house. And, well, that’s great and fine. It’s loving and fulfilling, it’s giving me the time to make my body, mind, and thoughts fully mine. It means I don’t have to worry about what someone else needs or wants from me as a partner. 

But there is something about hot summer nights, about wanting to read aloud to someone. About heading onto my roof, being able to reach out and rest my hand upon someone i trust. It’s about waking up at 4am and having someone who matters next to you. 

There’s something about the way the sun sets, and the laziness of this town. It makes my skin prickle. It makes my shoulders ache down to my fingertips to hold someone. Day trips with a lover. With a best friend. With a confidante. With someone who doesn’t mind that I’ve let paint flake off my skin after I spend hours painting my kitchen cabinets. Someone who doesn’t mind my wild hair. Someone who’ll play with me, the little games. Someone to dance with. 

Someone to kiss, lazy. Someone to kiss fast. Nibbles and tastes. 

I was driving today, passing a converted barn, I spotted a couple. A tan man without a shirt on grabbing the hips of a woman who was standing next to a sedan. He pulled her closer, away from the car with it’s driver door open. He kissed her goodbye, with abandon. His summer skin glowing and her mouth spread in a smile. It was a split second in time. A moment.

It was summer love. It was need and want, and to have and to grab. 

It’s about sweat, and rolling around in messy bedsheets. It’s about wading into pools, and creeks. Rolling up your sleeves to work on a project. About car rides with messy hair. It’s about hands on your waist and thighs. It’s about sneaking a butt squeeze.

It’s about spilling all the love you have for yourself into someone else, and taking the love they spill back. Smiling, testing with greedy hands, with some playful glances.

God damn. It’s summertime. 

June 14th, 2014

Lunch and I are dating so I pulled out the stops. I even made the bun! Now eating it while watching Bob’s Burger’s. 

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