Patinated Ponies
This is the place where I put my favorite photos that I've taken, and thoughts that I've... thought. Rarely will I reblog, but if a photo or quote is so inspiring, it may find its way on here.
"Patina" is my favorite word, and I, um, really like ponies. I might be five, I might be twenty.
Feel free to email me at: skp5n at virginia dot edu
Snippets
Day-long bus ride. Clutching my coat and wide awake. Residual shame from the night bus to Siena the night I missed the last train. Sleeping and missing an iPod upon waking. After riding the last train to the bus station. To some little town that most probably had an m in it. Afraid that I would have to find some room to fitfully sleep in in that shady town. Crying and insisting that the ticket-puncher scold me in Italian.
My voice is finally just about back to normal. Losing it and rehearsing for my song in the show was some sort of anguish. A note I knew I could hit coming out like the croak of tone-deaf friends.
I’ve always been realistic about my voice. A couple good parts in the school plays, a voice strong enough to sing in the car or shower and impress. A voice to sing children to sleep, one that is sweet even when they start to understand which are good and which are less than so. But nothing to chase broadway or even cruise tours with. And sometimes I wish that I could succumb to delusions of grandeur. That I could ever see myself as something more than average.
