Posts in Poetry

Two hand-done pieces on marbleized paper (I did the marbleization with nail polish!) that were just sent out. "Where there is light, there is hope.

And so, everyday the sun comes up and its rays say to you, 'Hello again! Hope is here!'"

Every darn day - even when we can't exactly see it.



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Wander the World

We spent the past week in the Bay Area. While my husband worked in the city, I worked my way across the city as tour guide with our three kids. It was a whirlwind. I am significantly outnumbered, namely with a two-year-old whose greatest skills include running and running even faster when you ask him to stop. But, I swear to you, it was so much fun for me. I suppose this is what parenthood does to you: It makes you completely crazy and then you find the crazy to be some of the best moments of your life. I don’t even try to get it anymore.  Whatever. More than almost anything else in the world, travel forces you to live in the present, which is just about the only way that you can survive well when parenting young children anyways. There was whining and yelling (from me, too) and there were great memories made amidst all of the chaos.

And then, we were able to come home and remember why having a home feels so lucky and so good.

Both, And. Today, this. Tomorrow, that. Home and Away. Roots and Wings. Presently living to make what will be, as my son said while we were away, future “core memories.”

I wrote this; it's for all of us who take our kids anywhere we can (out to dinner counts), even when it's hard and tiring - keep going if it makes you (and them) feel good. Your kids will thank you and you will thank yourself.  Cheers.


I’d wander the world with them by my side if money were air and time didn’t divide.

I’d wander and learn and pretend to live there for awhile until the wind blew the way to the new place we’d play.

“That girl with the kids? Have you seen her around? I can’t figure out what she’s doing in town.

Her husband comes and goes and nobody knows what she’s all about.”

They’d say all that and then they’d go back to their houses and families and friends.

She has a home and a family and friends, just like you. Her dreams and her wanderlust are large, like yours, too.

But instead of sitting idle and finding reasons why she can’t, she goes. And she goes and where she’ll stop,

well, she knows.

By the water or by the fire, on a couch or in a house with her family and friends and her dreams on a map of the next place she’ll be.


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Wild and Free

  I will not tame you.

I will not demand, day after day and year after year, that you must be good, that you must act nice, that you must please everyone else so that everyone else but you is made to feel comfortable.

I will not shield your eyes from everything ruthless in this world.

I will not leash you, I will not rope you into some idea of what you're allowed to be, of what you're allowed to do;

I will not should on you.

All of this within reason, of course. All of this within the knowledge that my only goal forever will be to keep you safe, to protect you forever.

I will let you live as yourself, wild and free, as strong as you started, seeing the world, feeling the world in all of its wonderful glory.


Want the original (5.5in x 8.5in) of this one?  Share this piece on Facebook or Twitter and comment here or comment on my Facebook post.  I'll randomly pick a winner (tomorrow, Sunday 8/9/2015 @ 8pm giveaway ends).  Thanks!


Lighthouse... (and a bit of news).

Hi! Before you read the whole of this piece, I want to share a bit of exciting news....

I have been wondering what to make of all of this writing for a while now: Should I try for a book?  Do I have a book to write?  Should I continue doing what I am doing?  I don't have any real answers for most of my questions but I have this: some of my pieces will be for sale at a number of stores around the Midwest come September.  I'm super excited about it, and also nervous, of course.  Starting in September, I will provide you with a list of stores where you can purchase prints of my work if you'd like.  I promise they'll be cute, they will be small, and they will not be expensive.  I'm imagining you'd purchase one of these prints instead of a dumb throwaway card (dumb throwaway cards are THE.WORST. in my mind - a waste of both money and paper) or for yourself to tape on your fridge (or for you fancy asses who have it together and are decisive, to hang in a respectable white frame).  Anyways, this is one of the pieces that will be available... I hope you like it.  Would you buy one for a friend?  Yourself?  Talk to me.

If you have a storefront and would consider showcasing my work, please contact me through this site.  Thanks so much.



There is no leash long enough, no bubble big enough, no world that won’t leave its mark on them at some point.

We let them go; we have no other solid choice but to let them go when they are ready and to stand at the shore as their lighthouse.

We stand lookout at the shore of their world hoping our desire alone will make its way out into the smooth sea and keep it as calm as can be for as long as possible.

When it turns, when the storms roll in and change the tide, I will yell from the shore, “Find the light and swim!”

Find the light. Swim back. Stay afloat. Get to shore. Catch your breath… until you’re ready to go out and do it all again.

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Free Refills, When You Get the Time

I poured so much into them. When they grew, I thought I’d be empty.

I wasn’t sure I could give and give and give and still have anything left.

I poured it all out – damn right, I did – but I am not empty.

Water doesn't only come from above; wells of love don’t run dry.

You might need to find another hole or dig a little deeper to find what’s been waiting for you underneath yourself all along.



You all will be getting this in your email right at bedtime, right when you may find yourself sandwiched between little humans who may be fighting over who is touching you the most-est. You might not believe it tonight, but it's true: Pangea today; their own continents tomorrow. Ain't no thang. xo Annie  

Wendy, Peter, and The Grown-Up

  These are their shadows and that was their laugh that filled up our home while I sat on the couch and photographed. And I wrote this piece about being here with them, but see, that's the thing: I then wasn't there because I was documenting.

I snap a picture, I write it down in the hopes that it'll bring me back into the room where the laughs reverberate, where the drums beat, where our river of love flows when we're all present. *** "When the first baby laughed for the first time, its laugh broke into a thousand pieces, and they all went skipping about, and that was the beginning of fairies." J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan