CRY YOUR HEART OUT

I haven't shared words with the world in a long time and I think that is because I have, in some ways become more cautious. Less courageous with baring my soul to strangers. More inclined to keep things to myself and to cry. Today I remembered though that I intended this blog to be a place to document my life as it is, the magic and the melancholy. I'm beginning to accept that it is okay for the latter to linger on days when the magic seems absent.


On a Sunday in August I wrote:
"I sat tall in a chair with a child on my lap and very nearly let tears roll. I kept them back, for I could not comprehend why they were swelling in and almost out of my silent, solitary soul. I feared that if I let them fall I'd be obliged to offer explanations that I didn't have. All I knew what that I felt anxious.

Today as I cradled and cuddled children I was thankful for kisses they placed upon my cheeks. And with their lips they spoke words that made my heart tremble in the best way. But I still felt anxious. I wanted to cry again.  

Tonight I've been making pom poms and staying up far too late listening to Keaton Henson. The belated burden of lonesome blues has settled on my back and helped me to understand my anxiety. And so I fold my facade and say IT'S OKAY TO CRY YOUR HEART OUT. "


A few weeks later on a Monday I remember sitting at the table eating a cheese and pickle sandwich and crying but not knowing why. My shoulders were low, heavy with the weight of absolutely everything. Too many things. I began to question my sanity and worry about my state of mind, which only made matters worse. I became even more overwhelmed.

I've been told before that I am a highly sensitive person. Once two years ago and again two weeks ago, both were times when I needed more than anything to understand my mind but I didn't listen. It was not until this morning that I sat down to discover that in fact my friend and my mother were right. Everything makes so much more sense. I'm not insane, I'm just sensitive.

THE BLUE IN BLACK & WHITE

By the sea is a compelling place to be.

Sometimes she swallows me whole, salt to my soul and makes me new when I need to be. Sometimes all I need is to see her, to sit in silence and breathe her in. Sometimes that is enough. Sometimes it is better to be alone with the ocean. Sometimes it is nice to be with another. A Mother.

On an afternoon in the North we wandered by the edge of the blue, bending at the knees between steps, collecting pebbles in our pockets...

These photographs were taken on my Diana f+ on black & white film at Sawtell Beach.

 

NORTH

It saddens me greatly that I cannot see the stars from the city, for they are such a beautiful sight and it seems a shame.

A week ago I returned from a trip to the North, about seven hours North to be precise. There the stars were a plenty and silence was ever present save the occasional murmuring moos from a distant paddock.

Each morning I said hello to the sun, sometimes before the light reached the porch. Then I would walk through grass, collecting dew drops on my desert boots, to the bottom of the farm. I'd take a seat right by the strawberry patch. Queenie dog would sit beside me and listen to me sing, never interrupting.

I spent time alone and also in the company of my own Mother and another. Beautiful things blossomed inside and outside of my mind.

I am a lover of nature and I long for the day when I will live between greens and be closer to the sea. Until then I will recall this place, remember how it felt, retell the tales and revel in such recollections.

 

 

 

LOST & FOUND

There is something magical about photographs on film. The element of mystery that mounts between the capture and the collection of your moments.

These were taken towards the very end of 2010 but not developed until last week.

I went away to England shortly after I took them. The film was left behind and these moments were somewhat lost for a time. Upon my return a year later I found the film and for all this time had it sitting in various places about my home. Curiosity finally took over last week. My mother asked me what was on the film and I truly couldn't remember, all I could recall was Christmas trees. The rest was a surprise.