When I fell in love with you
I prepared for battle
I held my heart between my teeth
Until it was tough and impenetrable
Like a wanting calloused fortress
Yours to lay siege to
yours, yours, yours
When I fell in love with you
I went to war
Cloaked in leaves and clay
Watching you from behind the trees
Ravenous for the earth beneath your feet
To be the branches in your hair
ravenous, ravenous, ravenous
I’m not yet sure where life will take us in this beautiful beast (dubbed the Serenica Landship for anyone curious), but I’m okay with that. The road is enough. The road is beautiful. The road is host to so many fantastic possibilities. There’s something thrilling and freeing about embracing the unknown, about being tied to nothing but each other, about movement and escaping a static and stationary presence. I suppose there’s something poetic in acknowledging the forward motion of life in such a literal way.
Little girls are truly magical, aren’t they? Well, that’s my opinion since I don’t personally have one and thus get to run away laughing maniacally into the sunset when the impressive temper tantrums and glistening little girl tears start flooding the streets of Denver.
In the years it takes to double our lifetimes from the onset of our days as silly teenagers, I’ll watch you profess your love and devotion to a lucky gentleman with a handlebar mustache on the banks of the Rio Grande, ablaze and glowing with the heat of the Fall desert sun. Your beautiful and brilliantly white dress, shimmering and dancing with each affectionate word you utter in the direction of impending and hopeful days, your relentless tears waging cyclonic wars behind the barriers of your reinforced but dampened eyes. Every word, a promise, every syllable a solemn prayer.
The walk was not scenic but it was beautiful. And it was sad. It was through some extremely poor/low-income areas and I lost count of the many mattresses and makeshift sidewalk homes I’d pass on my way each day, the piles of garbage, the struggling mothers all hurrying their kids to school down the block. And the contrast of such surroundings with the people I’d encounter only minutes later sitting in beautiful conference halls, working on their MacBooks, answering emails on their tablets and having conversations on their smartphones was jarring at the very least.
There is nothing I can say about the trees to describe them to you if you’ve never seen them or found yourself in their presence. I hope you trust in my sincerity when I announce my satisfaction at that realization. It’s true. I’m so utterly contented knowing there are places in this world that lie outside the boundaries of articulated description, places you simply have to see and feel and experience to know.
And I so understand what you mean about becoming complacent. I was just looking at a tremendous photographer’s portfolio on IG this morning and I realized I immediately felt…down? Defeated? Like a failure? Does that happen to you often? You mentioned thinking life could always get better. I think I suffer with that as well. It used to be on both a personal and professional level and now it’s only on a professional level (which is good) but seriously, I feel like I actively avoid success sometimes. Does that make sense? I just can’t seem to get on the internet anymore without stumbling on someone’s fantastic body of work and seeing that they’re somehow doing that for a living (no 9-5 bullshit). How did they do that? How did that happen? How come I’m working a mind-numbing job that’s constantly draining my creativity for hardly any money and they’re not? And then of course I follow that dark rabbit hole down until I reach the inevitable “well, it’s probably because I’m simply not that good” and that’s soul-crushing. And then I have trouble accepting that, so I reason that maybe it’s because I’ve really just never tried very hard (which is a fact in a lot of ways)…because I guess I’ve just always been scared of not having the reliable paycheck…no matter the meagerness of the salary. And then I sadly conclude it’s likely a combination of the two and I’m moved to tears.