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All posts for the month April, 2015

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Nothing to do but wait. These last few days have been one stop and start after the next. A test in patience. Have I ever mentioned I am not a fan of tests? Especially ones where there’s no way to prepare. Or submit extra credit to stay in the higher scoring bracket. These tests exhaust my core and then take a little more. Centering myself the best way I can, by putting up a sheer veil and hiding from my responsibilities. Like any good adult does in these situations. At least my waiting game will be over soon enough. For now I’ll keep listening to the ticks of time slowly click away.

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This is my house. And your house. And our house. Splashed brightly with the colors of our combined nature. Each new member adding layers of depth to the structure. A malleable form. From within these walls I hear a crash. A splintering sound that draws my investigation. Peering from a portal, I’m greeted with shadow. What appears to be a threat. Looming over all that we have built. We can let it cast doubt over our being. Shake our foundation. Or we can strengthen our walls against it. Stand as sentries. And protect a place we call home.

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Instead of a classic Easter egg hunt, this hoppin holiday, I found a treasure while combing through my closet of forgotten purses. Tucked away, underneath countless color clashes of faux leather, was a rustic brown bag. One that I loved to the point of discoloration and an additional hole. Peeling back the faded flap, I found a handful of treats. Peppermints, hairbands, lint balls, sand? But there was this one thing. Nestled next to fortune cookie statements of “you’ll travel far” and “your artistic soul knows no bounds”, was a little black square. Could it be? Oh yes, yes it was! A memory card full of pictures from my hiatus. Little gems waiting for discovery. And I can’t wait to share in the future. Exciting to find images that I thought were lost down some rabbit hole. What a great Easter egg surprise!

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For those that missed my Instagram picture yesterday (and for the ones that didn’t quite understand it); here is an article explaining just what is that blimp in the upper left corner. That sucker is parked right over where I had Easter dinner. I knew about the launch in Dec. But seeing it hovering over the backyard, motionless, was eerie and infuriating. No one else seemed to be bothered. The residents had grown accustomed to it, saying it didn’t bother them. Looking from face to face, I felt like an alien in a room full of people from planet surveillance. A place where people willingly give in to their watchers. And enjoy indoctrinating television programs that make the art of surveillance palatable. Swallowing the surveillance state, we finished dinner and continued to ignore the white smear in the sky.

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Opening my heart this flamin friday. Trying to remind myself that through the act of living, I am learning to love myself. When faced with unanswered questions, remember that I don’t have to harbor all the answers. Just be open to the possibilities ahead. See them as a new opportunity for a deeper understanding of me. And when tears come, to let them. It’s okay to cry. Okay to feel. To love and cut one’s self some slack. After all, it is easier to be kind and accepting of others than of myself. Kindness doesn’t have to just be for the rest of the world. It can be directed inward. Softening any negatives that may be found there. Knowing that is the first step to living on a path of self acceptance. Until then, I’ll continue to offer kindness to others and perhaps that daily practice will teach my heart how to love itself.

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A wasteland surrounds me. The trail an endless sheet of fissured rock. Too lost in openness. I seek shelter in a crevice. Where the warm earth encapsulates my being. Growing down, around, and with me. A union sprouting life. We rise. From one into many. The fertile ground splitting open from our defiant shoot. The twisting trunk gnarling skywards. Puncturing the blue void with outstretched hands. Our roots sinking deeper. So that we may extend further. Branch outwards. Grow oblong. Marking a new form of hope in a place of conformity.