I jumped when Debbie asked if I wanted to participate in August Break for our blog Notes Across The Sea, having just posted a note about how much photos can say about you. The idea of posting a photo a day seemed like an easy and unique way for us to continue our correspondence and continue to learn about one another.
Then today I found this video online, from Jonathon Harris, talking about how he posted a photo a day on his blog, capturing a moment, living in the moment, on a day to day basis.
TODAY from m ss ng p eces on Vimeo.
It's not that I don't have words right now, I have plenty. I always do. But for this month, I'm sliding away from the words and back to the photos. Two loves, perhaps equally so.
On Notes, I'll be posting current photos. Photos that capture the comings and goings of this last busy summer month, but here I think I will just post some of my favorite photos. Having invested a bit of time wading through the 1,000's of photos on my computer, I have found some that just grab me and make me appreciate what my camera and (sometimes) the editor can do in terms of documenting and making beautiful this my one and only life.
So shortly, I will post my first August photo, my beautiful girl captured today, looking entirely and exactly as she is right now, a girl on the verge, with all those emotions showing clean through her eyes. From there, a little walk down memory lane...
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Friday, July 29, 2011
{this moment}
{this moment}
A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week.
A simple, special, extraordinary moment.
A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.
The break has been a needed mental and personal rest. We've enjoyed a flurry of summertime everyday moments this past week or so. Looking forward to coming back with a special bit of photo fun on Monday for the month of August. I've missed this place.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Not So Wordless Wednesday-Abstaining
A couple of weeks ago I tried to give up meat. It was short lived, I thought my energy levels slumped. Right now I've given up wine, afraid it makes me tired. I'm considering giving up blogging for a short bit because sometimes it seems like unnecessary pressure on myself and I stay up too late to do it. Hell, I'm halfway bent on giving up the Internet for awhile, if I thought I really could. Somehow I doubt I could make it.
I'm tired. A lot. I know. People say you're a single mother, you work a full-time job, you have two young children. Maybe that's it. But I'm tired....a lot. Almost ready to fall asleep in the afternoons at work kind of tired. The looking forward and counting the hours until I can put the girls to bed so I can crawl into bed kind of tired. The I'm sleeping seven hours a night and still tired kind of tired. The I don't think I have enough energy to (do dishes, vacuum floor, walk upstairs, go to the grocery) kind of tired.
I'm going to the doctor tomorrow to ask her to have some blood work done. I just don't feel right. I may need a therapist or a life coach instead. I am scared that my lack of energy and focus is the short path to depression, something I don't ever want to visit again. I don't think so though. I think mentally I'm okay, befuddled, but okay.
As a personal flaw a lot of times I can't see the forest for the trees. Cannot tackle one task because all the thousand other ones are also screaming for my attention. Projects loom beckoning around every corner. My mind loses control of itself in a million thoughts and ideas, but I find the putting it down too exhausting a task.
I'm going to say I'll be gone a week from this spot, maybe two. I'm still going to write with Debbie over at Notes Across the Sea, but I'm going to do a little bit of physical and mental work here on my own and unload a little bit.
See you soon.....hugs and love.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Friday, July 15, 2011
{this moment} breath.
{this moment} - A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.
i leaned over her this morning and inhaled as she slept
feeling her breath of life that i once held inside of me
as if i could sneak a bit back in to cherish, to hold onto
then i snapped the photo and woke her up
then i snapped the photo and woke her up
Thursday, July 14, 2011
throwing swiss cheese at life.
there is swiss cheese on the floor.
that is where it landed after I threw the container at the door
and it expelled itself.
because nothing i did went right today.
everything seemed to be wrong.
because i have had a headache all day so bad that it's made me feel sick.
because i did not want to come home to a house alone.
because i did not want to bother with the work of cooking and cleaning up.
and the last thing i wanted was for the cheese drawer to crack apart
and topple onto the floor of my refrigerator.
sometimes when you are surrounded by the luxury of friends
the beauty of supportive family,
and the wonder of two beautiful children,
no one understands that despite all that company
despite your smiles and your laughter
that get you through the days
sometimes you feel utterly and completely alone.
so you throw the swiss cheese at the door
and then you cry
really hard ugly cries
lonely tears
emotional sobs
on the floor
with a cat at your feet.
until it's over
and then you get back up
you face reality
there at the corner
and you nod
and you say
all right
i'll get up
i'll keep going
i know it could be worse
but i don't have to like it.
that is where it landed after I threw the container at the door
and it expelled itself.
because nothing i did went right today.
everything seemed to be wrong.
because i have had a headache all day so bad that it's made me feel sick.
because i did not want to come home to a house alone.
because i did not want to bother with the work of cooking and cleaning up.
and the last thing i wanted was for the cheese drawer to crack apart
and topple onto the floor of my refrigerator.
sometimes when you are surrounded by the luxury of friends
the beauty of supportive family,
and the wonder of two beautiful children,
no one understands that despite all that company
despite your smiles and your laughter
that get you through the days
sometimes you feel utterly and completely alone.
so you throw the swiss cheese at the door
and then you cry
really hard ugly cries
lonely tears
emotional sobs
on the floor
with a cat at your feet.
until it's over
and then you get back up
you face reality
there at the corner
and you nod
and you say
all right
i'll get up
i'll keep going
i know it could be worse
but i don't have to like it.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
following hope.
i refuse to give up.
tell me it doesn't matter.
there is a calling in my heart
and i won't stop until i've yelled it from the rooftops.
they may say i'm a dreamer,
but i'm not the only one.
what if everyone else had given up on
peace
freedom
equality
where would we be.
doesn't every mother deserve the right to raise her children,
without hunger
without fear
without violence
or just to raise them at all,
not devastated
by war
by rape
by HIV
it's a new era for me.
guided by,
hope
faith
inspiration
and the power of small voices hoping to join together
and grow so large
so powerful together
that they cannot be ignored.
tell me it doesn't matter.
there is a calling in my heart
and i won't stop until i've yelled it from the rooftops.
they may say i'm a dreamer,
but i'm not the only one.
what if everyone else had given up on
peace
freedom
equality
where would we be.
doesn't every mother deserve the right to raise her children,
without hunger
without fear
without violence
or just to raise them at all,
not devastated
by war
by rape
by HIV
it's a new era for me.
guided by,
hope
faith
inspiration
and the power of small voices hoping to join together
and grow so large
so powerful together
that they cannot be ignored.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
sparring.
i don't know how to wage this war with you
when the fires of fury well up from your unreasonableness
in a new rhythm
where my blood rises and i feel my sense of control failing
where the words coming from your mouth cut like a blade
sharpened by your independence.
when i lecture at you and you stare blankly back at me
until we both retreat.
when i can hear your tears through their silence
sense them in my depths, feel them in my mother skin
when i make my way upstairs
turn the corner and find you
i see you; i see myself.
those moments when i am overwhelmed.
those moments i find myself lost.
i see that in you.
and suddenly it returns to me, now cool
the nurturer that you have created in me
and we sit on your bed
you silently crying on my shoulder
half dressed, clothes thrown on the floor
and i wish to see with different eyes.
i wish to feel with this heart
not the one that sees your fire and anxiety as a battleground
but as a common ground
and recognize your struggles as my own
to give you the sympathy i would give myself
to see you as this extension of my self
that we might not selfishly take our stands across the field from one another
but stand and fight together.
when the fires of fury well up from your unreasonableness
in a new rhythm
where my blood rises and i feel my sense of control failing
where the words coming from your mouth cut like a blade
sharpened by your independence.
when i lecture at you and you stare blankly back at me
until we both retreat.
when i can hear your tears through their silence
sense them in my depths, feel them in my mother skin
when i make my way upstairs
turn the corner and find you
i see you; i see myself.
those moments when i am overwhelmed.
those moments i find myself lost.
i see that in you.
and suddenly it returns to me, now cool
the nurturer that you have created in me
and we sit on your bed
you silently crying on my shoulder
half dressed, clothes thrown on the floor
and i wish to see with different eyes.
i wish to feel with this heart
not the one that sees your fire and anxiety as a battleground
but as a common ground
and recognize your struggles as my own
to give you the sympathy i would give myself
to see you as this extension of my self
that we might not selfishly take our stands across the field from one another
but stand and fight together.
Friday, July 8, 2011
{this moment} summer gifts from smallish hands
{this moment} - A SouleMama Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
home.
it was quiet. for one week. the house compressed to just me, the dog, the cat.
quiet.
now they are back and my life feels full again.
complete.
i didn't realize just how much i missed them until they had their arms around me.
it made me not want to go to work this morning.
i wanted to lay in bed with them and soak them up.
within a half hour they had forsaken me for my grandparents and my aunt next door.
mama,
so easy to skip away from,
knowing she's always here to come back to.
that would be me
in my best form.
quiet.
now they are back and my life feels full again.
complete.
i didn't realize just how much i missed them until they had their arms around me.
it made me not want to go to work this morning.
i wanted to lay in bed with them and soak them up.
within a half hour they had forsaken me for my grandparents and my aunt next door.
mama,
so easy to skip away from,
knowing she's always here to come back to.
that would be me
in my best form.
Friday, July 1, 2011
{this moment}
{this moment} - A SouleMama Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.
***I have to comment that tonight we celebrated my Grandmother's 84th birthday.
I watched her and my Grandfather head off together this morning for a fishing outing. (She caught 11, he caught 2). I didn't take my camera to dinner tonight, but snapped this quick pic of them from my mother's photo album. At 60+ years married, five children, seven children, and ten great-children, they are a shining example of lives well lived. They are a blessing and I treasure that I get to spend my days so close to them.
***I have to comment that tonight we celebrated my Grandmother's 84th birthday.
I watched her and my Grandfather head off together this morning for a fishing outing. (She caught 11, he caught 2). I didn't take my camera to dinner tonight, but snapped this quick pic of them from my mother's photo album. At 60+ years married, five children, seven children, and ten great-children, they are a shining example of lives well lived. They are a blessing and I treasure that I get to spend my days so close to them.
