I would like to introduce you to Kris, my guest blogger of the month. I’m so excited! As you know, I am involved in a blog ring called Bloggerstock. Kris is one of the co-founders (as well as myself). Kris is a small town girl who craves adventure. She has done many things, achieved little, and don’t usually notice when she is singing. People and cultures fascinate her to no end, when means she adores backpacking. When she is home she enjoys snowboarding, reading good books, and summer. She has been blogging for seven years, publicly for half a year, but she very rarely succeeds at being funny. Check out her blog here where you can also read her guest blogger. So, I am going to shut-up now and let Kris do her thing on my blog. Enjoy!
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I’m an internet transient at the moment. Different desks, different settings where the only non-variable is a keyboard. But when I get my old computer back this is where I’ll work.
A beater of a desk I found in my spare room when I moved in. White melamine with cubbies I can stretch my feet into. A plastic mesh container of stationary, as mason jar of pencils and a stack of irrelevant papers.
There are three particular items with history. The first, a set of photographs in cheap plastic frames. “My group” in a Supervalue parking lot and my family out Christmas treeing. These have traveled with me more then once packed in a powder blue suitcase.
There is a wooden box built by my sister and smeared with green leaf imprints. It has a past life as a secret neighborhood mailbox which the evil boys found by following our tracks in the snow. Now it holds letters I sent home from Mexico and about 200 pens. Yes, I’m an addict.
And then there’s my poi. I first saw this used on a beach in Barcelona sitting in a cluster of travelers listening to guitar. I fell in love with the dance, the beauty, the passion for which I did not yet have a name.
I learned the basics in an Israeli guest camp from a hippi named Leor who made me laugh. It wasn’t long before I knew as much as he did.
My own poi got created in a beach hut in India. I used a pocket knife and those sewing kits you steal from hotel rooms. I cut up a pair of jeans that had seen the world with me and become worn in all the wrong places. The pockets are became filled with sand from beneath my feet and the ropes are strips of braided denim.
I continue to admire poi and the traveling artists who have perfected the art. i play with them occasionally, and one day I’ll learn more. For now they sit on my desk by a computer where I generally spend too much time.
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If you would like to see my guest blog post come visit Risha’s blog.
August 30th, 2010 
Ms. Harmony 
