Seeing change

I'm an only child. As such I'm easily entertained. Typically this is a good thing and keeps me fairly simple. Since I was a little girl I have been fascinated by mirrors. Not  in a vain, let me pick at my skin, look at how fat I am kind of way. I was/am always fascinated as to what my face looks like when I talk, making funny faces, frowning, etc. It's half the reason I enjoy photographing people so much. I don't like pose photographs, just people in their natural element, without the guard. You see so much more and typically people are beautiful in those moments of being themselves.

I was looking at some pictures I took of myself and I notice my eyes, my expression, the change that was happening that I never quite noticed, until now.



This was in the spring. I'm smiling. I think I had been crying and I was trying to cheer myself up, making funny faces. My face is strained, my eyes are dull, painful but the mask is still in place. Cracked however much it may be.



This was the moment that I realized that I had to muster up the courage and make changes. At the time and in that moment those were not the thoughts running through my head, but it was there as I think back. Wanting to hide with my hands, but yet I look straight ahead, determined, resilient. The smile is gone. The mask has slipped. A week later I made a decision. This photo will always be special for capturing the moment of resilience and strength before the storm.



I couldn't hide any more. This photo was taken about 3 weeks ago. It is hard to capture the true imagery of depression, the self without the mask, but despair pours from my face and I'm incapable of holding any semblance of a mask. I see this and every loss that I was feeling at the time. Words can capture the despair but perhaps this image will serve as the memory of this time.



Hope has begun to bloom. Genuine belief that we are going to be ok. That I am going to be okay. My smile is back. My eyes are cautious but optimistic in their hope. I look at this and I see ... me. I see the person that I want to become - happy, genuine with a tinge of strength there in the back of my eyes.

It's different to be on the 50%+ side of optimism. To know that indeed this is the right decision. Not the easy decision but the right decision. And to capture that moment of knowing is a gift. Because as the days go by there are still a lot of moments that I forget. I am still living one day at a time. I am still terrified at each step that I make. I still have no idea how this will all play out in the end. But to capture a moment is a gift indeed.

A Crack

One of the most ethereal experiences I've had is watching the sunrise over Haleakala crater in Maui. You stand before this crater in pitch darkness. Cold, tired, groggy, hungry because who really wants to wake up even earlier to eat. You wait in anticipation. I think at one point I started to wonder if it was ever going to happen. Then I started thinking that it better well be damn worth it. I mean I'm crazy standing here in the cold, miles above sea level when I could be still sleeping. But no, I got up. I got dressed and I better have one fine ass sun rise. Like one of the best in my life . I start to doubt. I get irritated. And then it happens. The sun pierces through the layer of fog and the world turns into this floating land where you are above the clouds. You watch the world around you come to life, having waited silently for the sun's warmth. It's amazing and beautiful.

In a lot of ways I have been standing waiting for the sun rise to come. I've had so many days of darkness that I was starting to expect to never see the sun again. In the darkness you freeze, even with sweaters and blankets, you are never able to get warm enough. You wonder what the hell am I doing this for. It is worth this. Is welcoming the new day worth freezing? In my analogy, I don't know if it is or not. Not yet at least. But I will say that the band of people who have gathered around me to warm me in these days is telling me that it is.

The new day will be worth the pain and desolation of the last few weeks (or months, who am I kidding?). But even though the dawn has broke and the first rays of warmth has pierced my eyes there is still time to go before the sky is full of sunlight and joy.

Sometimes I get lost in my analogy. It makes sense to me. Right now that's all that matters. If no one understands or shakes their head while rolling their eyes at my constant need to find analogies .. fuck 'em there isn't much I can do with those people anyway.

So the day after winter solstice, where the night is the longest that it will be in the year, I welcome the coming of spring and the dawning of a new day. At least a little bit.

....... you know, comments are welcome. :-)

digging the well

it just happens. i wake up and i sulk. i'm in deep. i dig at the dirt walls of the well trying to rise out of it but i can't seem to do it. every moment is a reminder that i am just making it worse. so i sit in the well, dirt on my legs.

and then it happens. a spark of crystal light pierces the dirt that has gathered. i'm pulled out of it and float again. i'm able to stand. dust off. pack down the dirt a little bit more so i'm closer to surface level. still no sunshine in sight but at least i can see the crack of a blue sky. I strain on my tippy tippy toes to see if i can get out. but nope, not yet. so i settle back, pulling my knees closer, waiting for the next batch of dirt to gather.

Changing Love

Love. I wonder why this is on my mind right now. But it is.

The song above is called "Looks Like Rain". It's your typical 8 minute long Grateful Dead song and lord knows not everyone can make it through a Grateful Dead song so I'll summarize just in case you can't. The singers love has left him. And he is preparing for the sorrow that comes from the lost. But yet he knows that it's ok because he is still going to love her, even when she is gone, love remains.

This song has helped me through many endings - both love affairs and true deaths. Because for me, love remains. Oh yes does it hurt when it ends. Tremendous hurt. Gut-wrenching, soul-crushing hurt. But then it subsides and the love you had for that person, the good times, the good moments, the quirks of that person remain.

People have told me that I'm crazy. That when a relationship ends then that's it - fuck him or her! But it's not so simple and I think the death of my uncle taught me that. Losing him was earth shattering. He was my rock and a constant, unconditional source of love to me. After the pain subsided (which still hits me every now and then 2 years later), all that remained was the love that he had for me and the love I had for him. So I ask why would it be different for love affairs?

I guess the difference is that not in every love affair do you actually love the person. You love the idea of them. You love what they do for you. But do you love the warts and flaws as much as the beauty. There are very few people who I have loved this way - girls and boys. And no, I'm not bisexual. This has nothing to do with sex. When these relationships end or change, it is mind numbingly painful.

But I have to believe that down the road, love will remain. Whether or not the person stays in your life is debatable. I have had a few that have stayed and a few that have gone. I miss the ones who have gone tremendously.

The ones who remain are in a special, protected space in my heart. We had the audacity to accept that each of us is imperfect but still worth loving. Even if the nature of the relationship had to change, it's ok because in letting the relationship evolve you are acknowledging how important that person is to you. That the love between you is more important than the status of your relationship.

I don't know if this makes any sense to anyone. I can't seem to find the right words to describe what I want to say. But I know what I know to be true because as the singer in the song says .... "it's alright because I love you and that's not going to change."

True Beauty

I grow tired of women's insecurities about their bodies. Their never ending quest for beauty. Their never ending dialogue that tells them that they are not beautiful because they are not thin, have wrinkles and gray hair, or they have given birth to multiple children so they have stretch marks or scars.

We all do it. I do it. I kid constantly, "oh it's tough to be this beautiful. I don't know how I do it." Of course I swagger and smile. It always gets a chuckle and I move on. Part of me stops to wonder, are they laughing because they think, "she's delusional. don't you see how fat you are?" Then I wonder, are they laughing because they think, "wow. I wish I could think that." I never have the nerve to ask.

I talk about this a lot. Maybe because I struggle with this a lot. I rebel against people making me fit within a box of their expectations but then I'm lost without those expectations. It truly makes no sense. I think all women are like this. We all struggle with the expectations to be beautiful. Even the most beautiful women I have known - thin, gorgeous, shiny hair, pearly white teeth, perky boobs and all - think they are ugly. They push away people wanting to take photos of them. They cringe when someone says they look beautiful. And I sit there and wonder why. But the other part of me understands.

I'm lucky to have spent my life as the fat best friend. I've seen the cracks in the beautiful people and seen the beauty of ugly people. But sadly I lack the ability to convince anyone that they are beautiful. Just this morning I repeated this song to a friend of mine. And I sat there listening to Justin singing about sexy I couldn't help but think ... damn straight I'm bring sexyback. I mean how could I not. With a face like this ....

[caption id="attachment_672" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="Who doesn't love an Andy Warhol version of themselves?"][/caption]

See it's saying shit like that that gets me in trouble. No one, NO ONE, is all that and a bag of chips. Maybe if we stop thinking that I'd have this if I was thinner or I'd have that if I had the tummy tuck or if I was blond my life would be perfect, we could actually start enjoying the true beauty of people. The flawed gaps in our teeth, the imperfection of our skin, the gray that pops out of our head, the wrinkles that form as we grow older. It all goes back to the flaws. We all have them. Maybe if we showed them we could unlock the handcuffs that perfection has placed on us?

So I'll take the first step. Here I am - hair barely brushed, no make up, unplucked eye brows, skin tags, slight double chin, and flawed skin. Hardly the picture of perfection. But I guarantee, I'm singing SexyBack.

[caption id="attachment_673" align="aligncenter" width="225" caption="Here I am"][/caption]