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Portland, Oregon. Falling in love with the art of everything.

  • Writer's pictureRachel Sandstrom Morrison

noticing.




so many nice things go unnoticed

that's why i like to notice

i like to notice the little details that nobody thinks about anymore,

the playful way the light dances on the leaves in the woods, and how trees seem to laugh with the wind

i like the notice the way people respond to each other, the minute gestures and expressions they think (and maybe hope) go unnoticed, the acts of love that are sometimes missed

i like to notice


there have always been so many things about me that felt unnoticed

i wanted someone to sweep me up, call me beautiful, and love me for all the little stupid things i did

the silly face i make when i don't like something,

or the way my body lights up when i eat something i love


i wanted someone to notice the way the light hits my face on a winter afternoon,

or how my hands hold a dichotomous blend of delicate strength while i'm cooking

wanted someone to love me for the little dances i do, the doodles in my margins, the way my camera roll fills up with rooftops and skylines.


in the wanting, i learned to give

to freely express the love i was desperate to feel, the adoration i craved with every aching bone

to notice the small moments, the little acts of love, the infinitely divine hiding within the mundane.


now i find beauty around every corner,

steam from coffee in my favorite mug billowing into the cold living room, next to a bowl of oatmeal and farmer's market apples (peak),

or the way the golden light highlights the softness of your face at 3 p.m. in winter.

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