I'll Send You My Words...



Write. What is the one thing I can do countless times, over and over again? Write. When words escape my lips yet appear in a wondrous abundance at the tips of my fingers? Write. When literally all else fails me. I write. 

Talking about all else failing, I am now penning (or more appropriately keying) this post at the early hour of twelve am because I have been stuck with a creative block for a couple of days. Some might say it's inevitable for the creative mind to get stuck once and a while, and I say to that: what a load of rubbish. The mind is not stuck, one just merely has to exercise it in a different way to stretch out the other overused "muscles" (basic gym knowledge here). In an attempt to get creative juices flowing again I am taking up my keyboard and writing. Just writing, whatever comes to mind I am typing without (much) thought. 

Writing and words. Lines of different characters uniquely and artfully strung together to create some of the most beautiful prose, poetry, stories, written memories that sometimes can be more vivid than any photograph ever could. A beautifully written sentence is like the softest notes played out on a piano. Melody, music, harmony.

People can hide behind words, just as easily as they can be seen through words. Spoken, or written down, it is the most befuddling and beguiling language. People feel connected with words, just as easily as they can be torn apart. Words teach, they torment, they encourage. They can bring tears, they can bring laughter, they can light a heart on fire. They are tender they are rough. Words are the strangest contradiction if there ever was one. 

Consider that a bit of a short essay, more of a blurb. I hope you all found it at least somewhat amusing, and I do promise a real blog post within the week. 

Love to all,

Haley x

Photo: Property of Haley Sieben. Calligraphy Work. 

Before I Cut and Run.

It's twelve A.M. here in Kansas City as I type up this one rather lengthy post to summarize what can only be described as the Holiday I wish could keep on running. Sadly we must all return to reality at some point. I shan't complain though, my reality, although chaotic, is a rather spectacular one.

But that is not the point of this post. It is to give you, my readers, a glimpse at what life back home is like for me. While I am quick to point out that my "reality" is back in London Town, my heart will forever dwell in the halls of my house, and the countless other "homes" I have made during my upbringing in this midwestern haven. 

When I finally did arrive home back in December, I was met with fair weather (which I should be quick to point out changed to freezing faster than you can say cheers.) and an even "taller than when I last left him" brother. If there was one thing I truly missed it was the hysterical antics of my family and the countless hugs and playful shoves that accompany them.

My days were spent consuming my Mum's amazing home cooking (all of which I will woefully miss for the next six months), laughing and getting to be a complete and utter oddity with my Sister and best friend, of whom I missed a terribly great deal, sarcastic conversations with my Brother, and talks of my future plans with my Father. 

No Christmas Holiday is ever complete without a trip to Hays Kansas a humble Midwest mecca where my mother grew up. Accompanied by Grandparents, Aunts, Uncles and Cousins who are far more than family; the week is overflowing with with the joy to be in each others' company.

Downtown and Arty.

Happy Days are here Again.

Spent with all important trips to Cerv's (for the infamous slushies), a traditional night of discovering just how many people one can cram into a mid-size SUV in order to view Christmas lights, and shooting a clay pigeon or two. 

Like Mother, Like Daughter.

As a child I was in awe of the gifts I received and surely equated the amount and grandeur of each to how much I was loved and appreciated. Grown up (albeit still learning) one realizes it is not, or ever about the gifts received (although I did find myself the proud new owner of some JIF Peanut Butter), but the people you get to spend celebrating a day of thankfulness, cheer, and praise with.

It's the countless laughs, and endless love for the ones you love that are priceless compared to any gift that can be found under a tree on Christmas morning. It's the conversations and memories made that will be remembered far longer than a shiny new toy received a handful of Christmases ago. 

This is what I have come to cherish most of all in this life. There is nothing better, nothing better at all.