june 27.

Write about the storm blowing in, the way it stirs up the air and shifts everything. Write about the waiting, the anticipating. Write about the warning signs and the things we do to prepare. Write about the grey skies and the moody wind and the chill that has settled in.

Then write about the cup of coffee you made in the shipwrecked mug that Glen once gave you with a spider plant potted inside. Write about how the plant died, and so did Glen, but the mug remains one of your favourites.

Write about the two candles that you lit to break up the grey with flickers of light. Write about the scent of the strawberries sitting in their green basket beside you at the table.

Write about the hummingbird at the feeder with a water droplet on her tail. Write about the butterfly who drowned yesterday in two inches of dishwater, the same butterfly who rested on your arm while you were bathing earlier that morning. While you’re at it, write about the posey of flowers, nearly dead, in the blue vase to the left of you. Explain how even in their dying there is beauty evolving.


Words + Photos + Credit

Unless otherwise noted, all original photography and text are property of Raechelle Kennedy. If you see or read something here and feel inspired to share it somehow, please be considerate and give the artist (me!) credit, or even better, drop me a note and make sure I don’t mind.
Thank you!

Here + There

Secondhand Sainthood and the gift of losing it all – Topology Magazine, December 2015

Ten Things Made – Topology Magazine, December 2015