Angeliska: This little frog got very cold and curled up tight on the porch. I wish he would like in my coat pocket. It's warm in there.
Angeliska: Pontotoc Sunset.
Angeliska: Tiny delicate ferns, little lichens.
Angeliska: I come from a long line of cowgirls. This is my great-aunt Ruth. She and my grandmother used to ride horses to teach in small rural Texas schoolhouses. I have a lock of her hair in a bottle my aunt Ruth (her namesake) gave me recently.
Angeliska: And yet I refuse to give up the ghost. Ladies and gentlemen, this is what happens when a hurricane eats all your shoes & you only wear one pair of boots for a year or so. These trusty vintage Luccheses were gifted to me after Katrina, in very good shape.
Angeliska: An unknown ancestor of mine. Rosemary for remembrance.
Angeliska: Last night I slept on a cot in the room where my mother died, in the house where my great-grandmother & my grandparents lived. Family place, ancestral home. The tap-roots burrow deep to find the water under the rocky soil here.
Angeliska: Little me, rockin' a bowl haircut and my favorite rainbow shirt.
Angeliska: Riding a bubble of earth...
Angeliska: End of the world.
Angeliska: Big rocks.
Angeliska: Home.
Angeliska: Stormy sunset at the end of time...
Angeliska: Giant rock orb, turning leaves. Texas autumn.
Angeliska: The fiery end of 11.11.11 on lonesome trail...
Angeliska: Sentinels.
Angeliska: Witch grove.
Angeliska: Traveling companions.
Angeliska: Let's live here.
Angeliska: Out on the Llano River.
Angeliska: Boathouse.
Angeliska: Secret door.
Angeliska: Note to self for future adventures: when one has lost the trail, it is unwise to think that climbing up & over a mountain in the dark is a viable solution. Because it totally isn't. Holy shit, I'm alive & back at my camp. I love trails, fires, & my unbrok
Angeliska: Bell-shaped.