Category : Impossible Project
How quickly the tears return,
Welling up, spilling over, streaming down.
The ache in the core of my chest,
Deep within my ribcage,
Under the muscles I’ve built this past year.
Strength from vulnerability.
Despite riding a high of friendship and being seen,
It’s still there.
It’s not about the past,
No, that is laid to rest.
It’s about today,
and the next,
and the next.
“I want to take all our pains away, but how would we then recognize happiness and joy?”
I am so in love.
With this grey and iced-over day.
With the heat in my heart.
I am so in love.
Bliss ran up my spine in yoga today.
My heart burst open, wide.
Love confetti flying across the world.
I wished for each piece to touch every one of you.
My soul could feel yours in the vibration of this beautiful and tragic life.
We are all connected.
And I…I am so in love.
Come fall with me.
Last month I had the opportunity to take an amazing trip to California. And by amazing, I mean that Big Sur an Napa were on the docket along with being together with some of my most cherished friends. As if going to the Esalen hot springs at 1am to soak under the clearest sky filled with the brightest stars hearing the crash of the Pacific waves directly below was not epic enough, there was also the hike to a swimming hole, the discovery of flat whites, and staying at the kitschy Madonna Inn.
But then came four magical days spent at a Napa vineyard with these people, a most inspired and inspiring group of artists…
This time, space, and bounty wouldn’t have been possible without our benefactor, Timm, host and party-thrower extraordinaire…
I send out a heart-filled thank you to each of these kindreds. You filled my cup during those four sparkling days and nights in Napa. Thank you for letting me see you, and for you seeing me. Can’t wait until our next adventure. xoxo
For those photographers interested, black and white photo shot on Tri-X 400 with Pentax 645N camera, color photos shot on Portra 160 with Canon AE-1 camera, and the two Polaroids shot on Impossible 600 with Polaroid SLR680.
It is April. Spring. To say it is a time of transition — in the year and in my life — is to put it mildly. I have been quiet here of late as my whole world has been turned upside down. I’m s-l-o-w-l-y coming back to ground, back to right-side up. Searching and discovering whatever this new version of “normal” is going to be.
Every single day of January and February, and even into March, felt hard. As in “I’ve never gone through anything this difficult” hard. I had a constant wish that my heart would stop hurting, that the pit in my stomach would go away, that I would wake up from the nightmare I felt my life had become. Those wishes never actually came true. Not in the instantaneous way I had wished for, anyway.
But…my heart is healing. The pit in my stomach is subsiding. The nightmare still goes on, yet it is becoming less terrifying. And as these transitions have been occurring, I find that my mind has allowed for just a bit of space to dream. I’m feeling the cracks of openness to glimpse the hopefulness this season brings — of renewal, of awakening. As my birthday comes this week, as I embark on an altogether different chapter of my life, one that I never planned and certainly never expected, I wonder what new wishes I might be making…
I’ve been swirling for the past few weeks. Most days have felt like a struggle. Getting out of bed has been difficult. Pushing through the day has required inordinate effort. I’ve been looking forward to the end of the day when I can come home, change into my pajamas, and pour a glass of wine, with far too much gleeful anticipation.
I’m having tumultuous dreams and flashback images of my mother. A dear friend’s wife died, bringing up all of the feelings associated with the knowledge that friends my age shouldn’t be dying and that I, too, will die. My tendencies toward existential crisis lie just below the surface, and needless to say, have been spilling over. My self-efficacy regarding writing a memoir, telling my story and telling it well, has been dangerously circling the drain. Oh, and Mercury was in retrograde. I can’t see the forest for the trees.
I have been stuck. In a fragile, emotional, crying-three-times-a-day funk. For a few weeks. But I’m coming out of it. I’m clawing my way to the surface. I have to. I need to see the big picture. I need to remember that life is short and I will die, and to use that knowledge to embrace the life I have rather than retreat from it. I need to remember that revisiting my past opens old doors, and that dreams and flashbacks are part of the process. I need to remember that I’ve never written a memoir before, that this is all new territory for me, and that my self-efficacy will grow as I keep writing.
Yes, I’m shaking the devil off. Casting off the stuck-ness. Starting to glimpse the forest again.