There is a long tradition with me of loving all things old. As the oldest of seven, I was born old. Others needed me to be old. Who depended on me? Some days, it seemed like too many. These defining moments called for fancy footwork. ...
Dear You, I’ve been writing to you for years. I have collected little reminders on yellow sticky note pads. They aren’t all of me. They are scraps of the day, scribbles, you may say. The notes were for you to see when you woke up in...
I made myself invisible. And I was. Everywhere I looked I saw proof of that. Proof that I was a mousy younger sister of someone beautiful, that people noticed. Proof that by her side I disappeared. Proof that no one found me attractive and that I would never...
Being pregnant is being immersed in a world of mystery. There is a person growing inside of me that I cannot see and it sends me into a state of fear. Suddenly, everything I eat, breathe, drink, and do become more important. I have to...
As I sit here writing, on the fourth anniversary of my mother’s death, I am aware of the impact my mother had on my sense of “enoughness”. My mother was the kind of woman that spoke her mind, loved fiercely, moved heaven and earth for...
i catch a glimpse a flash if pink something wild this way comes. who is that girl? what is her story? she is a momma, fierce and loving. she is a wife, warrior and steadfast. she is a woman, heavy breasts and sagging belly. birthed 3 people into this world she is an artist (she.is.) she is the...
1. All lined up, 2. Birthday girl, 3. you are enough., 4. 165:365 {21:52}, 5. tear, 6. 6.365 (notes to myself), 7. I Am Talented, 8. 18/52 A Conscious Choice, 9. Untitled, 10. 98/365 :: note to self, 11. you., 12. Can you handle more...
I remember very clearly those few moments right before I had these words painted directly on my chest. Every cell in my body was heightened. There was a clenching in my stomach and a tightening all around my throat. I knew it was a huge...
this girl, she is reflections in windows. getting lost then being found. what is normal is awkwardness, the sometimes bitterness. the habit that returns in love. this girl, she is holding hands on the coast of maine. nuzzling beards, undressing insecurity, devouring artistry. sometimes ragged. sometimes hollow-eyed. she is acceptance of ordinary. this...
My 3 year-old LOVES getting her face painted. Everywhere we go where face painting is offered, she is first in line. Every time, she asks for the same images to be inked on her face: Thomas the Tank Engine and James the Red Engine (my daughter adores...