Foraging
Thankful.
Holy ups and downs am I right? But, more accurately holy cyclical existence. ♀ Holy state of the world, holy human.
Autumn leaves reminiscent of one year before when Mabel slept - curled up, wet, fetal.
We waited, I knew not what lay ahead; a transformative trip.
These pictures are an ode to my home and an ode to where I am.
I’ve been feeling an intense need to find contrast to my daily life in the way of adventure and photography and I feel like both female characters in the book I’m nearly finished, Layla. Stuck, repetitive. The Truman Show, Groundhog Day.
Coming out of a year of postpartum grain, blur, and glare - confronted with the person I was before. The same yet completely different. More sensitive and more strong, new guards and walls new detailed and extravagant windows too.
The lows always push me into myself and rooted deeper in the earth I climb just a little bit taller.
A calling to photography a calling to the real, big life I’ve been terrified of amounting to. A calling to step in. To step up.
An ode to divine timing.
Lately.
A bit of cabin fever a bit trapped a bit captive.
Coming to the end of an era.
Autumn has begun.
Mabel is 11 months old.
"...A woman's creative ability is her most valuable asset, for it gives outwardly and feeds her inwardly at every level: psychic, spiritual, mental, emotive, and economic...As we create, this wild and mysterious being is creating us in return, filling us with love."
—Women Who Run with Wolves.
Other people: “What are you learning Spanish for?”
Me: “How am I supposed to know, it will make sense one day.”
Learning the juicy stuff….
Friendship mugs I made for a soul sister very far away. A reminder of divine timing and authenticity.
A friendship that reminds us of the ebbs, flows, and ever changing growth.
cultivating myself
The creative director of my own life.
My life is an art retreat.
I love my work.
It’s not healthy to not love the work that you do.