The weekend was filled with some of my favorite people, starting and ending with Kyle Cassidy, who was in town taking more photographs of tattooed veterans for his next book, War Paint. The Tinley Park local paper did a nice little write up here.

After picking Kyle up from the airport, we met with friends at Karyn’s on Green, a lovely vegan restaurant where the Brussels sprouts are heavenly, the fries fantastic, and the service wonderful. We had great conversation that ranged from life-changing effects of world travel to the changing face of time and memory, as well as talk about films, books, and photography. I love lunches like that. I love these people, new and older friends, who enrich my life in so many ways.

Kyle went off to Tinley Park, and we reconnected on Sunday after I ran from a semiannual Board meeting for the Chicago Writers Association to another inspiring meeting of the Chicago Creative Co-op (a.k.a. The Coop).

Most people stuck around to have dinner with Kyle, who joined us after taking photographs in the southwest suburbs. We also met Braden (who had been Kyle’s assistant in Tinley Park) and his girlfriend Tia, who fit in seamlessly with the group.

Another large dinner party gathered around our dining room table, with more lively conversation, followed by a house concert by the sweet and talented Molly Robison (who will be releasing her debut EP Bedrooms & Attics, in Spring 2011).

After folks went home and the kids went to bed, Kyle & I had the chance to chat as the embers died down on the fireplace. It was another moment, perfect and so dear.

This poem from e.e. cummings came my way today(after coming to my attention several time in the last week), this time from Jason Webley’s email and blog post:

i thank You God for most this amazing
day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun’s birthday; this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any–lifted from the no
of all nothing–human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

When I was twelve and oh-so-sad and lonely, or twenty and conflicted about my path, or thirty and tired and overwhelmed, I dreamed of this.

I dreamed of a home where I welcome intelligent, creative people; where I nourish my children with good food, friends, art, and stories; where I share meals with friends, laugh with my husband, write and read and dance and play.

I dreamed of the time and space to do what I love, to talk with people I respect and admire, to encourage people I believe in.

I may have been sad or discouraged or alone, but I always dreamed. Of this.

And I have more. Dreams of new and amazing days.

Just like this weekend.

May your day be amazing in the ways that matter most to you.