Can I Be Both?

This started out as something completely different. I've had this idea for a while now. I'd wear a nice dress, put on heavy makeup, look more "polished" than is normal for me. Then I thought, get those cool 1940s curtain panels that are in the basement. Hang them up. Stand in front of them. Get a light bulb, do a long exposure with the light bulb swinging. It'll all come together and look awesome.

Well, after two hours of shooting I decided to stop. There were many tries and fails. Or maybe not exactly fails, but certainly not the look I had envisioned. I was frustrated and felt I'd wasted my time. I was angry at myself for not being able to reproduce the vision I had in my head.

I went to that place I often find myself when things aren't going the way I want them to go.
That place of doubt. That place where I'm a big nobody with no talent. That place where mistakes are never forgiven. That place I'm so familiar with. That place where all the negative things I hold about myself live.

It's a place I mostly keep to myself. I skirt the edges of it in conversations with other people, but I never share how deep it lives in me. How ensconced it is. How I sometimes see it as a creature that lives inside me. In a dark, dark corner of my psyche. This creature loves it when I fall into the hole of self-criticism. It feeds on my doubts. Revels in my insecurities. Cackles with pleasure when I let jealousies or envy enter my consciousness. It's a dark little fiend.

But that sort of thinking implies that I have no control over what goes on on my head. There's no little gremlin in there forcing me to say mean things about myself. No creature whispering in my ear.

It's just me.

Say it once with feeling,

I'm the dark little fiend.

Does that make me a terrible person? A bad friend? A talentless hack?

No, not at all. It just makes me human.
I fuck up sometimes.
I do wonderful things sometimes.

One doesn't cancel out the other.

There's a darkness in me that I can't always explain or understand.
There's also a light in me that I feel down to my very core.

One doesn't cancel out the other.

They can both exist in me side by side. Reflecting the complex human that I am.

I'm dark and light.
Sunshine and clouds.
Black & white and color.
Joy and pain.

One doesn't cancel out the other.

As I near the end of this project; I see even more clearly how sharing my thoughts and stories, especially the ones I am most reluctant to discuss, is so important to my own growth. I am often afraid that people won't like me when they hear what I have to say. When they learn I'm a bit of a mess at times, will they judge me harshly? Maybe so, but I can't let that stop me. This project has shown me that I have to speak my truth, that all the years I spent silencing myself were killing my soul. I won't do that any longer.

So here is my second to last self-portrait. It's blurry and maybe a bit confusing, but it's also colorful and interesting. It tells the story of a woman coming into her own as an artist, one who is willing to push herself beyond her comfort zone and into the unknown. One who accepts her flaws while honoring her attributes. I like her.

It's as simple as that.

I like me.

On Memories and Choice

I was thinking about memories, what we hold. What our ancestors hold for us, what the Great Mother holds for us in her bones. The rocks and stones that lay beneath our feet. That no matter how painful or terrible some memories are, how we carry them is up to us. I choose to carry mine in beauty and strength. So for this post, I stand next to the water. Amongst rocks. Breathing in the air. Feeling my fire. 

My choice. Always. 

Standing  

In the ruins

On the stones

That hold your memories

The ancient 

Or the ones from yesterday 

From time to time 

You will fall

It is inevitable

That is when you look in

See again what you may want to forget 

Where it hurts

Where you feel torn

Bloody

And ragged

The last place you want to look 

Is most often the place you must

In the darkest part 

Of your own shadows 

In the deep well

Of your own pain 

You gather your courage about you

Like steely armor

Or a soft shawl 

You will face those stone held memories 

Crack them open 

Hold them in your mighty hands

And whisper

You are part of me that I own 

But you will never own me

No More Lies

I explored a nature preserve today. The last time I was at this particular place it was the end of winter. It was cold, everything was the same color of brown, it may have been muddy as well. I walked a little bit but I think I was mostly concerned with staying warm, so I didn't venture off much.

Today was very different. 

Flowering trees were showing off beautiful blooms of white, pink, and purple. Grass was growing everywhere, green blades were bursting through the slats of the boardwalk. I could hear birds singing and bees buzzing. The place was alive and inviting. I wandered around, following trails made through the meadow. I took pictures of dandelions, dirt, and wildflowers. 

I came upon a tree with some scraggly looking branches, I took a few shots. Then I stopped and looked closely at it. It wasn't the most appealing tree around, if someone was writing a horror story they might include a tree like this in it. Spindly black branches just waiting for the right victim to get close enough. Then....snatch!

This got me to thinking about the personal work I've been doing lately. I'm digging for something but sometimes I'm afraid to get too close, too deep. If I find whatever it is down there, I might end up in the clutches of something scary. Why else would I have buried it so long ago? 

But honestly, I know what I have to unearth. What old stories I have to confront. The old stories I tell myself. 

I'm unworthy.

I'm disposable. 

I'm small.

I'm insignificant. 

But like the story one may write about sinister branches reaching out to grab an innocent passerby, my old stories are all made up. 

They are lies.  

They are bullshit. 

Little by little, I am choosing to step out of this fiction. But to do that I know I have to confront it head on, face it and disown it once for all. See that person up there? She's done with self-hatred and dimming her light to stay safe. She's going to keep digging. She's not afraid of spindly branches or old lies. She's ready for whatever turns up in the dirt.

  

The Glamour Shot?

Anyone who knows me, knows that I love classic films. Old Hollywood glamour, film noir, screwball comedies, epics, musicals, dramas, crime; I love it all. I come by this naturally, my dad was an avid movie goer and watcher. He even had a log he kept as a young man that detailed what movie he saw, where he saw it, and what shorts were played before the main feature. I love reading through that log.  It makes me smile.

At the beginning of this project, Lisa and I made a list of ideas we had for our self-portraits. One idea was to make a "pretty" or "glamour" type shot. When I think glamour, my mind goes straight to the high contrast, dramatic Hollywood publicity photos from the 1930s and 40s. They often evoked a dream-like quality, an impossible standard for us mere mortals to aspire to. These were stars after all, they don't look like just anyone you'd see on the street.

Hence this photo, it may not look exactly like me. But inside this average suburban mom shell, is the heart of a dramatic, exotic, movie star. Gaze into these eyes and see far off lands, crazy adventures, or a melodramatic romance that will bring tears to even the most hardened cynic.

The power of movies, my friends. And the power of a good edit. I think glamorous me is rather lovely.

Background Noise

 

I used to believe that if I brought my specialness or talents forward, I would be met with judgement. Or even worse, indifference. 

Hidden in the background, I could get by.  I could survive. Stay small, stay safe. I did this for a long time, not realizing that I was beginning to fade away. Blending in was doing me no favors. The more I felt myself disappearing; the more I searched outside of myself for validation. Becoming dependent on others to boost me up. This only drained even more of my independence and self-fulfillment. 

I see this photo as a perfect interpretation of that. This huge stone is front and center, my figure is blurry and mostly unidentifiable. 

But then I started viewing it through different eyes. Yes, I'm out of focus. I'm not necessarily the main subject of this composition. But your eye is drawn to that somewhat mysterious figure, isn't it? I may be blurred, but I'm there. 

I'm here. 

There is still a part of me that refuses to become invisible, and that is the part I must not ignore. 

I am ready to strip away my old ideas, and step into my beauty. Claim my gifts and share them, without a guarantee of acceptance from others. Claim the truth that I am worthy and that I matter. 

It may feel a bit scary at times to be everything I am meant to be. But I'm done with being small and safe. I'm done with fear and denial. 

I am here and I will not fade away. 

Not Mine

I

I have written about having migraines on this blog before. How I get them and try to slog on through them as best I can. Sometimes that means going through the motions of my day, attempting to interact with family and friends. Sometimes it means laying on the couch with the tv on. A lot of times, it means heading straight to bed with a cover over my eyes. Some days, I can stop them with an Imitrex. Say what you will about modern medicine and pharmaceuticals, these things have given me a chance to get back a part of my life that was taken away by migraines.

I hate migraines.
I hate the pain they cause.
The disruption.
The shame.
The feeling that I am a burden.
That I am "less than" because I suffer from chronic headaches.
That if only I could find the cause, I could relieve myself of these nasty soul crushers.

Over the years, I have learned what triggers a migraine for me. But I cannot always control the weather, or my hormones, or any outside stressors. Migraines are a part of my life. That is how it is, that is what I have accepted.

But what I don't accept anymore is that they define me. That they lessen me. That they take away my spirit and my passions.

I used to call them "my migraines". Now I reject that phrase.
These are not mine. They never have been, never will be.
Migraines are pain, and worry, and isolation.

Migraines are something that happens to me, they are not me.

I am strength, and freedom, and life.
I will always be that.
Before, during, and after a migraine.

Not mine, not ever.

Therapy After Therapy

I see a therapist. Some months it is bi-weekly, other months it is weekly. We have been digging especially deep in my sessions as of late. I often come out of his office with puffy eyes and a runny nose. It's not easy, but it has been necessary. I'm growing and expanding and becoming more of who I am supposed to be and therapy is playing a big role in my evolution. I'm happy, I'm sad, I'm alive.

The past three sessions I have taken a selfie afterward. No exact reason. Out of mere curiosity, I suppose. Three sessions ago, I also found an interesting nature preserve that is right near the office.
I have explored it with my camera three times. See a pattern here? Three selfies, three solo photo expeditions. One time it was relatively warm, another time was the sunny bright day after our last snowstorm, and yesterday it was rather cold and gray. No matter what the weather, I have found something interesting to shoot each time.

Therapy (for me) can feel rather self-centered and insular. I spend the entire hour talking about myself and my feelings. There's nothing wrong with that. It is needed. But I often come out of it feeling self-absorbed and just wanting to focus outside of myself for a little while. So these jaunts I take in the woods, by myself, have been a wonderful way for me to decompress and witness the world around me. A world of both beauty and ugliness. Joy and heartache. Everything that I talk about in my conversations with my therapist.

Being alone in nature, with my camera as my trusty sidekick, is about as healing as my therapy sessions are. I decided to combine an after session selfie with an after session nature shot. These were taken on the same day, within hours of each other.

My eyes may be sad, but the sky is blue.
My heart may be weary, but the snow is fresh.
And I am ready for what comes next.