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Thursday, September 2, 2010 (polaroid sx-70 / 600 film)
i never blog about my job, my so called career because that is a silly thing to do but i will say it is becoming increasingly difficult for me to push my always changing doodle of a self into the square peg of an environment that causes my head to scream on more days than not. i am not afraid of hard work and can honestly say that i am more comfortable working out in the hot sun, arms straining as i dig up more and more grassy sod to replace it with wild tangled life that i can eat or cut and spread around scent in my house. i was even more comfortable high up on a scaffold creating colour where there was none.
i stick out here like a sore thumb even on days i actually attempt to dress the part. my voice is too soft, my laughter too giggly, my thoughts not critical enough.
my thoughts not critical enough.
that is the part i think that i am beginning to really understand. i am a nurturing person and that was reinforced by growing up with a sister who had a severe form of cerebral palsy. i fed her and brushed out her long hair and i was helping my family do catheders by the time i was 12 years old. because she couldn't speak with words only the beautiful subtle flash of her eyes, the movement of her face - i learned to read the signs and speak of the intuitive at an early age. i am quick to help and soothe and give and though i rebelled against that deep part of me for many years, since the death of my twin boys, i have come back to embracing the beauty of being a nurturing person.
my thoughts are not critical enough.
for a world that seems to demand criticism.
working on my english degree was difficult because it demanded that i criticize beautiful works of art when all i wanted to do was rejoice in the subtle depths of meaning. i don't enjoy looking for mistakes or dredging out the problems because i would rather lift you up and tell you all about the beauty that i see in you. during that time, i became cynical and sarcastic as i smoked on the long end of a cigarette, long hair straight down my back gleaming red.
i admire most of the people i work with because they are passionate and fiery and are able to use their voices to argue a position. i don't like to argue anymore. i would rather listen to you tell your stories and share a few of my own in understanding and love. i would rather hold your hand and share a moment of heart's soul as i seek to further understand how we live in this world, who we are in our spirits and what our real purpose is that goes beyond the need to buy that next distraction.
i feel as though i am at a crossroads, staring down the end of a long concrete road longing for the dusty path of a long skirt boot walk with long tall flowery weeds filling the ditches of my life. i am a worn out cowboy boot looking for some lavender to fill up the spaces of my heart. i am a hippy urban girl who would rather hug you than sit across a boardroom and tell you what you should be doing.
love and peace.





















