My grandmother always told me to take refuge in the garden.  To find peace and connect to God’s glory.  
I was in tears on Michigan Avenue and needed to escape people.  Instead of turning towards the lake,  I turned towards the Museum of Contemporary Art.  They have a beautiful event right now where you can write a poem to herbs and then take one home. There is also a game being played where you cna write what you see and someone will draw what they read. This is my contribution. 
I’d like to believe that my Mamá,  my grandmother,  was watching me and guiding me to take an odd turn. I can’t explain just how touched I am.
Anonymous said: Why not fall in love?


I got shit to do