(polaroid spectra / expired polaroid image softtone / double exposure)

a snowbank and some wishful thinking

found me with a weekend filled with the soft beauty of tulips, not so soft really as the lady at the flower shop advised to cut the stems and put them in warm water and then add ice cubes because the cold and frozen cube of ice will help them to last longer.  and i was reminded of how they come up in the cold spring, pushing their heads up through the ice and snow, blooming when other flowers are still hibernating waiting for the warm rays of sunlight to melt off all the snow that piled up over the months and months of fall and winter and spring.  why do i live here again?  she wonders and then remembers that beauty rises up from the ice shards of life.

i finally finished the last room of my home, the last of the big organize and redecorate to make room for the silent spaces left behind from his move forward and onwards to live his life as a man.  the room that became the dark space of jumbled furniture and home to all the things i didn’t know what to do with, the scrapes of paper and ephemera, the kipple and words that lived too long ago, the polaroid stacks and the cameras jumbled up in a pile, discarded for the notion that i needed to live somewhere else for a while.  i finally finished the last room, the room that would hold the beginnings, the recollections, the ideas.  the room that held the mirror to the worlds inside me and inside of you, covered in abandoned dust.  i wasn’t ready to air it out and create a welcoming space for my creativity.  i needed the rest i suppose, the rest that has gone on far longer than i ever imagined.

but i flex my fingers and smile at the light pouring in through the thoroughly pruned lilac tree waiting for windows flung open in scent and know that i am ready to face myself again.