little sarah Big World

Month: April, 2013

A Little (More) Walt for Your Wednesday


(from Whitman’s “Song of Myself”)

Leaves of Black and White Grass


Quiet mornings spent reading are what I need right now. Maybe some tea, and a good hug. The world around me is full of possibilities, and beauty, and I am trying to take it all in, to bloom where I’m planted, no matter how many times I uproot myself.

not dew, but rain

And in some ways, things are looking up. But in other ways, it’s not so clear. Working with special needs kids is something I never thought I’d do, or be good at, but here I am, and the kids love me, and already they’ve made such an impression on me.

But there are other things to take into consideration, other jobs, and writing, and relationships, and it can (and does) all feel a bit overwhelming at times.

Sometimes more than a bit. Sometimes it seems like an insurmountable problem.

But, in the end, I know that I must figure it out for myself. And that I can. (I think).

Climb that hill, one step at a time

snapping photos on my phone like an iPro



a thousand acres

“Have you reckon’d a thousand acres much? Have you reckon’d the earth much?Have you practis’d so long to learn to read?
Have you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poems?

Stop this day and night with me, and you shall possess the origin of all poems;
You shall possess the good of the earth and sun — (there are millions of suns left;)

millions of suns

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True Love Means Getting Up Off Your Ass


Now That I’ve Got Your Attention

Shinjuku, Tokyo

Sometimes we all need a kick in the pants, and I’ve had nearly nothing but, of late. My ass is sore as hell. Life is kicking me in the pants, so is my job search, so is my husband, so is Japan.

Meaning: there will be no resting on my laurels, no getting comfortable, no easy way out. If you want to be a writer, littlesarah (the world seems to say), then you’d better dig in and make it happen. (But be prepared to go through hell for it, first).

So just as I’m getting back into my writing–prioritizing it (for once)–Cousin Misty nominates me for a Versatile Blogger award. “Put your money where your mouth is, Cuz” (she seems to say).

And who better to give me the push that I need, than someone who takes writing seriously, who makes it her business. Her blog, Surviving in Italy, is a no-holds-barred, honest look at what it really means to be an expat, to be in love, to make art, to get bruised…with cynicism and humor, in equal parts. She also dedicates herself to beautiful, brutal memoirs and essays (plus the occasional work of fiction) at Dirty Filthy Things. And she makes high-end clothing. And she’s a model/spokeswoman. Probably she has laser eyes, too.

What I’m saying is: it’s a lot to live up to, but I’ll try. Also, thank you for this nomination.

Harajuku Fleurs

Without further ado, Friends, here we go!

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A Brief Re-Introduction (for Readers New and Old Alike)


My Current Self


An Idea Stolen from Espy

taken in Eric and Iz's room

littlesarahBigWorld has come a long way, and so have I. Though…lately, I’ve felt a bit like nowhere, felt a shrug of nothingness. And posts have been fewer and further between.

That’s because, in the span of 9 months, I broke up, fell in love, remembered my old friend Anxiety, quit my job, got married, turned 27 and moved to Japan.

So…maybe it’s time for a reintroduction, as much for myself as for you. Try to nail down some specifics in an otherwise nebulous, quicksilver existence.

socks by Steve

My name is Sarah. I am 27-years-old. I live in Japan.

a rare slow day

I like simple pleasures, slow moments, sunshine, soft light.

a minor victory

I love to bake, to garden, to cook and to read. I like long walks and long runs, and music to match my solitude.

bad-assery at its finest

I overwhelm easily, tend to regret my Life Choices, and generally struggle and thrash about. I know what makes me happy, but sometimes, on a whim, I choose what’s harder. And sometimes I choose what I want over what’s right. Then I fret.


My favorite breakfast is a big bowl of cereal and an inbox filled with possibilities. An open notebook and an open schedule, a full day asking me, “What will you do?”

I will: run, eat, read, write, snack, walk, listen, think, connect, write, cry, hug, cook, talk and sleep. Maybe I’ll squeeze a nap in.

Because when I grow up, I want to be a writer. “A writer, an activist, a musician and traveler,” I said when I was 21.

That was over 5 years ago. Now I am married and live in Japan.

or Best Friends

Time is a cookie, friends. Sometimes it is sweet and delicious, and sometimes it is a falling-apart mess.

Sometimes I am a falling-apart mess. And you are, too. Sometimes.

But sometimes you are beautiful, and happy, and full. Or you are decent, and kind, and careful. Or you are hideous, tear-stained, 3am insane.

So am I, and that is the truth.

We are all of us, all of these things, my friends, and I don’t want to hide any part of it. I want to tell the truth.

Because when I grow up, I want to be a writer. But more than that, I want to be me. Lasting forever, and starting right now.