Posts tagged “trust

Writer’s Block from Heartbreak

Posted on June 14, 2013

Life has been very charged lately. Looking through my Instagram photos I can see a thread, an echo of my emotions through the images I choose to capture. The uncertainty of an experience I did not actively choose and a path from which I could not steer away. The odd mixture of terror and strength that comes from vulnerability. Accepting that I desperately need support and discovering that I have it. Acknowledging that I need to make a plan and accept my role in having acted in a way that gave people the opportunity to hurt me. I am looking forward to the frames ahead and hoping that with them I’ll find my words again.

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Just Like That

Posted on May 13, 2013

I’ve never been good at asking for help. I’m still not. It’s no secret that I’ve been working my way through some things lately. I’ve been circling and searching for something, but the truth is that I just can’t do this one alone. I want to find expressive, profound words for what has happened, not the bad stuff, but the good stuff. I needed help. There was a huge mountain of dread between me and asking for help, but the other night I did. And just like that I wasn’t alone. I think all I really need to say is thank you.

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Force

Posted on February 18, 2013

I remember practicing penny drops and dead man’s drops on the bars at Harris Elementary School in the early 80s. Before mastering either, you started with the help of a friend, they would hold your hands and do the dramatic swing chant, “One, two, three…” and the first couple you couldn’t do it, “No, wait.” Eventually though, you took the turn that finally gave you the freedom to penny drop alone. I loved the sensation of swinging my body back and forth until I felt that perfect balance of speed and height. I would flip my legs, launching myself out away from the bar and then quickly turn and plant my feet on the ground, maybe I’d throw my arms up ala Nadia Comaneci…

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For Mother’s Day

Posted on May 12, 2012

This Mother’s Day, if I could make one request, it would be this: one of my childhood friends, a girl who peppers most of the happiest memories of my youth, needs something, I’d like to help deliver it to her. We fell out of touch as people do, and then reconnected through Facebook. I’ve often chuckled at her pictures, her three rough and tumble boys a stark contrast against my three squealing, boa-loving girls. She in Oklahoma, me in Upstate NY, both so very far from Eugene, Oregon. During movie time in school we used to take her Swatch watch and take turns running it up and down one another’s forearm to pass the time. The watch smelled funny, rubbery and sweaty, and the…

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