sing bird

Do you remember you’re beautiful? Do you even know that? You’re nothing like there ever was before you came into being and nothing like there ever will be after you leave here. Every breath you draw and exhale spells unique. There is simply nothing else in this world just like you.

I don’t know who you are, but I might see you pass me by on the street or sit beside me in the bus, and I might or might not glance at you twice. I would want to, because oftentimes it thrills me to remember. You’re proof to me of the delicate and all-encompassing work that God put into this world, and as I look at you, I think of His creation. I think of Him molding ancient mountains and bringing forests on their foothills to existense and life, pouring the oceans into being, making grass grow, encouraging birds to sing in thousands of different tunes instead of just one. And I think of how the same God wanted you to be, and here you are.

If you turned to look at me, I’d smile at you even though you might think it weird, because sometimes it might be the only way to grasp the passing moment and tell you that you matter. To tell you that I see you and I value you, whoever you are. You’re right here and I’m glad that you are. I might not know you, but I know you have a God-given life of your own.

And as you’d walk past or get up from the seat next to me, I might look at you go until you were all out of sight, until you had left my story to continue your own.

And I’d wonder if you knew your worth.

“Occasionally in life there are those moments of unutterable fulfillment which cannot be completely explained by those symbols called words. Their meanings can only be articulated by the inaudible language of the heart.” ~Martin Luther King, Jr.

Such a beautiful day today. I enjoyed the sound of birds singing and bees buzzing while about their business. #littlethings


Mozart - Concerto for Flute and Harp in C Major

There’s an ongoing joke we tell in Chicagoland: it isn’t unusual to see all four seasons happen in a day. That’s kind of what today felt like: the morning was mild, sunny, spring like. And around noon, beautiful! Birds were singing, it was hot, I took a walk in the sun and listened to this happy-go-lucky pastoral concerto. And then the clouds came and brought chilly winds. I accidentally walked my dog in shorts and flip flops, and god it was freezing cold for me. Even so, I enjoyed my walk to Dairy Queen while brushing the digital dust off of this concerto, one of Mozart’s only two double concertos. The only work he wrote with the harp. I can only assume that Mozart had France in mind, since both the flute and harp were tied up with a rustic and pastoral French ideal [dare I say a Concerto champêtre to reference one of my French favorites?]. In reality, Mozart wrote this for one of his students, the daughter of another wealthy patron, who was an exceptional flautist and harpist. The product of this side project was this beautiful concerto, that is so easy to use as a cliche example of “soft, relaxing, pretty Mozart”. But why is that a bad thing? In the 1984 film Amadeus, Salieri is looking over Mozart’s perfect scores and part of the second movement plays, I would argue the highlight of the work. Music from heaven, wonderful music. I don’t see why we can’t celebrate beauty when we hear it.


1. Allegro

2. Andantino

3. Rondeau: allegro

What Springs

Young love, old hearts,
Holding hands
They’ll dance.

Birds sing, playing on,
Wind swept hair
Without a care.

Dreams live, passionate,
Make a wish
Hold it in.

Blossoming, blooming,
Flowers for
Each other.

Kiss me, Spring free,
Let me give

Sunrise, Sun gives,
Reason to breathe
Soul runs free.

Spring eternal,
Sweet rehearsal,
Beings together,
Love forever.

Trust brings, sweet Spring,
Laughter like a child.
Hold me here, a while.

-H. Murcia 7:22PM 3/23/2017

Favorite Sounds:

• crunching leaves in the autumn
• lees whining for tickles
• birds singing in the spring
• lees giggling before I tickle them
• rushing waterfalls
• lees saying “ANYWHERE BUT THERE”
• gentle wind while it’s snowing
• the content sigh after tickles are done

Monday 8:27am
I woke up with you on my mind.
You called me babe last night —
my heart is still pounding.

Tuesday 10:53pm
Today I realized we won’t work.
What we are is hurting her.
And I think she matters more to me than you do.

Wednesday 11:52pm
I broke things off with you today.
She barely said a word.
I’ve never regretted anything more than this.

Thursday 4:03pm
I shouldn’t have sent that message.
You shouldn’t have been so okay with receiving it.

Friday 9:57pm
I almost messaged you today.
I didn’t.

Saturday 8:49pm
I’m walking around town in search of alcohol.
They say that liquor numbs the pain of having a broken heart.
I want to put that to the test.

Sunday 2:32am
I heard you texted a girl you’ve never spoken to before.
I wonder if it’s because you’re trying to replace me.
I can’t help but wish you weren’t.
I thought I was irreplaceable.

—  a week with you on my mind, c.j.n.