There once was a girl...
Historian of My Existence
My memories are the building blocks of my history. - March 8th, 2022
Posted in: life awakeningsself portraitsshort story
Do it uncomfortable...
Lately I have become obsessed with mental blocks. Specifically, my own.
My entire life I've had passionate aspirations... I want to be a writer, a photographer, an artist, a "creative". And I'm very curious about my resistance. That thing I can't quite reach.
I try. I stop. I start again. I stop. I try once more.
I . . .
Posted in: life musesmy journalself portraits
Thirty-one years ago I completely detached myself from society for a brief, exhilarating two and a half months.
I was young and rebellious traveling the State of Victoria with my reckless boyfriend, 8-years my senior. I must have looked a sight, but with no mirrors came no worries.
My jeans torn, hair unbrushed, feet more . . .
Posted in: about melife awakeningsself portraits
Removing the hair-tie...
It was the day before Thanksgiving.
Sitting in a swivel chair, my head down. Snip snip snip… I watch as my hair falls to the floor. A striking picture of an Italian actress with pin straight hair and full bangs sits on the work station beside me.
My mind races… terror and excitement run rampant.
I’m . . .
Posted in: bloggingmy journalself portraits
"Living The Dream"
Finding happy in the ordinary of every day...
Boy does it take work to live it, breathe it, and not be at war with it!
It's taken me much work to discover that everything I need, want, or could ever hope for is right under my nose.
Spent looking for that magical something that will make me happy.
Wishing for a tomorrow that never . . .
Releasing my inner voice
From a very young age I learned the difference between being seen, verses being heard. I discovered that unless I open my mouth to say something people will assume what I am thinking just by looking at me.
This realization hit me one day when I was perhaps 6 or 7 years of age. I was at a family function desperately wanting to . . .
Our time in New Orleans has come to an end.
In fact, we have literally hit a dead end! Our apartment complex backs up to the levee... a monstrous grey wall that has stared at us in mocking silence every day since last September. Imploring us to open our eyes and see that we have actually hit a wall.
Until a few . . .