i loved books. i was the fuzzy haired girl in bad clothing awkward and alone with a book. i'm still that girl, only older. books were wonderful to me. i could go anywhere and be anyone. the words were alive, therefore, so was i.
writing with a finger on the backspace key.
My self portrait of the day will be me starting this entry, the screen and glimpse of (fat) fingers. I'm not abandoning the 365 Days project because I am truly curious to see what changes, what may come about over a year's time. I will document my days somehow. Snap myself into place. Existence.
over there by such & such
those artists who take you with them with their emotions through their work. making you feel things too. inspiring you in your own attempts at self-expression. someone sees you trying. they decide to try, too. so many people reaching out to be so. moved.
peppermint tea and a netbook
on the dining room table.
(view of postcard wall)
all of those words behind the pictures
hidden like unintended (deliberate) secrets.
He said you want me to change who I am. But I don't. It's not fair when you put it that way. I wish you were different but that's because I want to be someone else. The someone who is me that could be if I wasn't so stuck (stuck?) or damaged or scared or - wait - is that what this is about? I'm wanting all these changes in myself and I wish you were on the same page. We're in the same book. Sharing a chapter or two. This is our quest together. Maybe I want my sidekick to be more peppy. Yeah. The two of us can't be side characters. I want you to be the hero of your life. I want to be the hero of mine. I'm not asking you to change. I want the same for you that I want for me. For us to be the main characters of this storyline. Can we figure this out sometime? Before something happens. Before someone happens along. Unexpected turn of events. Haven't we had one of those already? I want to feel certain that we have each other's backs. I don't know what kind of proof I'm looking for to make me feel it's true. You don't have to change for me to know you love me. I do.
Picked a book from one of my bookshelves about Tao. Inside the cover was the date I purchased the book - back in 2006 - and it was from the bookstore in the Elgin Mall across the street from where I lived at the time - and where I live now. Recently, I bought a book on photography techniques. Does that mean something?
So I was looking at this book about a form of thought that I found helpful and right - illuminating, it was, back then - coincided interactions with people online who were on their paths of Buddhism / zen / mindfulness. It was a peaceful (but brief) spot in my life where it seemed that what I needed for guidance was naturally drawn to me and I to it. From the books I read to to the music that complimented it, the healing that was taking place, the pennies I threw behind me as I walked railway tracks in this small city, tracks that weren't operational but it didn't matter - i threw it all behind me - and he texted me that a butterfly parade happened on his commute to work - and I knew that I couldn't hold on to him no more than I could entirely let go of myself. I was okay with this because I was in the moment and the moment was this and the universe and everything that was coming to be, falling away. It was a time of change where I welcomed it, didn't fight it, didn't fear it - for a time - everything was zen. Over six years later, am I ready to try again? Not with men or Buddhist boys or solitary confinement. Instead, how about radical acceptance? Mindfulness? Less mind? Meditation (I first typed medication) and forgiveness. Love. Love that isn't dependent on others but taps them on their shoulder. This heart becomes an open embrace.
i never wasn't that girl
even when i'm not her.