this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;
which growshigher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
There are only two things in this world that I know for sure:
One. Always take a sweater, because you can take it off if you have it, but you can't put it on if you don't.
Two. No matter what I do or say, no matter wether I fail or succeed, my sisters will always ALWAYS have my back.
Here's the thing. You know how you have those friends who you claim that if you had to hide a body they're the one I'd call? Well, I'd call Sarah. Not Joy, not at first. She would get a little worked up. But if I called Sarah she'd say "ok. Here's how we dissect it." And then we'd figure out how exactly to tell Joy, and once we got her into the picture, she'd help us figure out a cover story.
On the other hand, if I have to make a GIANT PRESENTATION or rewrite a resume, I call Joy. She's amazing at that stuff. Also at thinking of 47 other uses for [any random object you can think of]. (Fact: at one point we were trying to come up with a list of 100 uses for empty frappucino bottles. We were up to 67 before I lost it.)
And I call either of them when I'm sad and discouraged and generally can no longer face the world. They'll make me laugh or kick my butt into gear, whichever is required, actually. True story: when J and I moved back to the East Coast from Ohio, and I kind of wanted to get into photography but was overwhelmed/had no idea where to start, they sat me down and brainstormed for about an hour about how to start building my name. We came up with 10 things, and I did six of them. Three years and literally hundreds of thousands of photos later, I know that I wouldn't have thought of one of those without those two.
They then proceeded to ask me regularly what I'd done that day, what pictures I'd taken, what shoots I'd planned. They posed for me, did makeup for me, shared their wardrobes, cheered when good things happened, and stormed about angrily when bad things did. Once, for about four months, we were at odds. I physically couldn't eat for days at a time. I'd get hungry, and then I'd remember: "oh, yeah. My sisters think I'm epically wrong and I don't agree" and my appetite would disappear.
We've always been partners in crime. We might not know whattheheck we're doing, but by golly, we're doing it together. Bus visitation, serving as camp counselors, wearing long skirts, talking the parents out of long skirts, watching unapproved movies on the sly, reinventing cullottes, walking ALL OVER CHICAGO, sneaking out of hq with pants hidden under skirts, learning how to highlight hair, learning how to apply makeup, learning how to talk to boys, learning how to buy jeans. Whatever we did, we did together. We failed together, we succeeded together, we cried together, and we cheered together.
About a month ago Joy moved two hours away, and now it's ridiculously hard to keep everyone updated on life, so we've resorted to long, newsy emails, recent editions of which include such ideas as crazyface, figgy compote, huzzah, and the phrase "guts in the face! It just doesn't get any better!"
This is why I love my sisters. I whine to them about the SHEER TIME CONSUMINGNESS of personal grooming and they assure me that as lovely as it sounds to be a hippie, give up showers, and wear patchouli to cover the smell, they will stage an intervention if required, and that it is not a Wise Life Choice. And then they turn around and discuss the recent primary election without a pause.
That poem I shared at the beginning? To me, it is my sisters. So when I started thinking about my next tattoo, that's what stuck in my head. They are the wonder that hold the stars apart for me. So on one side I have Leo (Joy) and on the other I have Libra (Sarah) the tattoo begins over my heart on my back.
I carry them with me. I carry them in my heart.
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;
which growshigher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
There are only two things in this world that I know for sure:
One. Always take a sweater, because you can take it off if you have it, but you can't put it on if you don't.
Two. No matter what I do or say, no matter wether I fail or succeed, my sisters will always ALWAYS have my back.
Here's the thing. You know how you have those friends who you claim that if you had to hide a body they're the one I'd call? Well, I'd call Sarah. Not Joy, not at first. She would get a little worked up. But if I called Sarah she'd say "ok. Here's how we dissect it." And then we'd figure out how exactly to tell Joy, and once we got her into the picture, she'd help us figure out a cover story.
On the other hand, if I have to make a GIANT PRESENTATION or rewrite a resume, I call Joy. She's amazing at that stuff. Also at thinking of 47 other uses for [any random object you can think of]. (Fact: at one point we were trying to come up with a list of 100 uses for empty frappucino bottles. We were up to 67 before I lost it.)
And I call either of them when I'm sad and discouraged and generally can no longer face the world. They'll make me laugh or kick my butt into gear, whichever is required, actually. True story: when J and I moved back to the East Coast from Ohio, and I kind of wanted to get into photography but was overwhelmed/had no idea where to start, they sat me down and brainstormed for about an hour about how to start building my name. We came up with 10 things, and I did six of them. Three years and literally hundreds of thousands of photos later, I know that I wouldn't have thought of one of those without those two.
They then proceeded to ask me regularly what I'd done that day, what pictures I'd taken, what shoots I'd planned. They posed for me, did makeup for me, shared their wardrobes, cheered when good things happened, and stormed about angrily when bad things did. Once, for about four months, we were at odds. I physically couldn't eat for days at a time. I'd get hungry, and then I'd remember: "oh, yeah. My sisters think I'm epically wrong and I don't agree" and my appetite would disappear.
We've always been partners in crime. We might not know whattheheck we're doing, but by golly, we're doing it together. Bus visitation, serving as camp counselors, wearing long skirts, talking the parents out of long skirts, watching unapproved movies on the sly, reinventing cullottes, walking ALL OVER CHICAGO, sneaking out of hq with pants hidden under skirts, learning how to highlight hair, learning how to apply makeup, learning how to talk to boys, learning how to buy jeans. Whatever we did, we did together. We failed together, we succeeded together, we cried together, and we cheered together.
About a month ago Joy moved two hours away, and now it's ridiculously hard to keep everyone updated on life, so we've resorted to long, newsy emails, recent editions of which include such ideas as crazyface, figgy compote, huzzah, and the phrase "guts in the face! It just doesn't get any better!"
This is why I love my sisters. I whine to them about the SHEER TIME CONSUMINGNESS of personal grooming and they assure me that as lovely as it sounds to be a hippie, give up showers, and wear patchouli to cover the smell, they will stage an intervention if required, and that it is not a Wise Life Choice. And then they turn around and discuss the recent primary election without a pause.
That poem I shared at the beginning? To me, it is my sisters. So when I started thinking about my next tattoo, that's what stuck in my head. They are the wonder that hold the stars apart for me. So on one side I have Leo (Joy) and on the other I have Libra (Sarah) the tattoo begins over my heart on my back.
I carry them with me. I carry them in my heart.
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