while my heart grows in your hand


It's been a little while since I posted last, maybe that was done in hopes to seem elusive. We'll never know.

Sunday afternoon we went to Pinkerton where the whole of Franklin seemed to be as well. I love to just walk around downtown Franklin, walk through the grass of the open field, say hello to people tending to their yards and gardens.
Yesterday as I was leaving work, I waited at a stop light and saw this guy, whom I swear I've seen before, run quickly over the cross walk. He had a camera around his neck and holding it tightly to his chest, I wondered what still lifes were hidden beneath that lense. The way people see things is interesting to me, the way that they interpret life through a camera so intrigues me. In my attempt to see where he was rushing to I turned the corner but was a little too late as his steps were quicker. I'm sure he's cool and I'm sure he listens to good music. Probably old folk music like Bob Dylan and Neil Young. I bet he has a good life story.
I don't know why I try to figure people out like that. When I was younger and I would be sitting in the airport, my parents would point to someone and say, "Okay tell me about them.". We would come up with elaborate stories of this random person's life- their troubles, profession, why they hate their job, who they loved, where they were flying to and why.
I think that has been imbued in my life now and I'll make up those biographies in my head wherever I go. I'll never know them, and I'll never see them again, but for that short time I spent a part of their life with them.
Maybe too often I search for what I want to see in them that I disregard who they are through judgement.
I wonder if people do that to me...I wonder if their assumptions are right...

Betsss
I've been listening to this band over and over again today in the office- it's great summer music. It has this great psychadelic rock vibe thing going on... They're called Black Mountain