I could never forget this moment and I don’t need this picture. I could never forget what coming home each day to this man felt like, how we could occupy such a small space and fill it with such passion; tears and rest and laughter and food, and deaths and rebirths, and smoking and drinking, […]
Sometimes I feel physically ill from the memory of what I left behind and the way that I left it. I am not capable of the acts I committed, the desperation I induced. I am that woman now, capable of such things. How long am I allowed to toil in heartache for the woman I can never again claim to be? Sometimes I grit my teeth so hard my jaw aches. I wake up often that way. Feels like every unbearable tension, climbing every root of every molar battling for dominance.
I’m liquidating my personal print stash in an effort to raise money for the Serenica Landship RV Fund. There are nearly 100 prints in this digital document from series spanning the last 13 years. Some are limited editions, some are special editions, most are print proofs I had printed to check clarity and color. Some are sold as sets, and some sold as individual prints. All are being sold at base/cost prices. Thank you for your love and support, and for helping me to make this dream a reality.
Why are each journey’s impending ends so difficult to conquer?
When you feel close enough to see it, but still too far to claim it?
As if reaching and grasping at a too-distant destination is an agony worse than seeing nothing at all,
nothing to tease or torment, just stumbling around in the dark and hoping for good news.
I’m so tired. I know you are too.
I’m so ready. I know you are too.
I’ve been telling you how beautiful you are since we were little girls, but maybe a little too quietly or without enough faith. I never lost it in you. Maybe you didn’t believe me. Maybe you couldn’t. Maybe even you didn’t know how.
“But love is always new. Regardless of whether we love once, twice, or a dozen times in our life, we always face a brand-new situation. Love can consign us to hell or to paradise, but it always takes us somewhere. We simply have to accept it, because it is what nourishes our existence. If we reject it, we die of hunger, because we lack the courage to stretch out a hand and pluck the fruit from the branches of the tree of life. We have to take love where we find it, even if that means hours, days, weeks of disappointment and sadness.
The moment we begin to seek love, love begins to seek us. And to save us.”
About 2.5 weeks ago, Mike and I flew out his cousin Steven and his girlfriend, Chelseigh from Atlanta, GA to help us with our renovation, and that was quite possibly the smartest thing we’ve ever done, ever.
I’m not sure I’ll ever forgive the 15 years of time that existed between knowing you and loving you; but maybe it’s hollow lamenting not-knowings, past lives you were only a part of in obscure ways, or distances we utilized as justifications to exist separately in the universe. It feels wrong indulging such a twinge in my heart over something that finally submerged me in much needed hope, happiness, love, and fruition, because I’m anything but ungrateful.
You tell the world who you are in a million different ways. Some are subtle. Some are not. But it doesn’t seem to matter. This world has already got you pegged. When you were born they put you in a little box and slapped a label on it, so they could keep things organized, and not have to think about what’s inside.
Maybe she has her head in the clouds, maybe she hides it there instead. But maybe this isn’t about her or her head. Maybe it’s about a woman’s body holding up the sky, the stars, the universe.