Little Scraps of Magic

I Just Didn't Know

I didn't know it would be the last time I  stood in his yard or in his garden. Instead, I just laughed as I watched a mama turkey coax her wild babies past the fence. Idly, I picked a few seed pods, nothing important. Just weeds. But, their pattern entranced me.

They rest in a tiny glass on my studio window sill. It's been several years now, and they're beginning to crumble. A part of me wants to scatter the seeds, and let them grow, weeds or not. Because then, you see, a part of my dad, my childhood home, would be alive and well.

I can not begin to tell you how much I miss this man, his wicked smile, and the lights in his eyes. He was born in that house, and he meant to die in it.

Dementia had another plan for him and for us. His body lingers, but the man I knew as my dad is gone for the most part.

And, I am so very glad that he doesn't know.

It Takes Two

It takes two, this communication thing.

And when one of us goes mute, clams up, so to speak, there's no fixing what ever "ails us."

And, it's just not easy; we have to admit to messing up, to owning that we have something that needs working on.

No one likes to admit to his/her shadow areas, those ugly bits of us. Because, you know, just in case someone hadn't noticed, we don't really want to clue them in.

Most of all, it's work. It's far too easy to ride the patterns we've established. Better the devil we know than to introduce a new one.

There's comfort in the familiar, as bad as the familiar might be.

So, talk to me, please. Give us a chance.

 

Note: Just so you all know, there is nothing horrible going on in my life! I am not sinking into some sort of despair. What is happening is an online course with Catherine Just in conceptual photography.  In her rides, we're riding the river under the river. We're acknowledging our shadow sides, acknowledging the difficult. We've all got those parts.

I'm beginning to plan a series on communication, the lack of, the difficulty of it. So many ideas are percolating.

It's a way to stretch myself. I'll still do the pretty photos, the fun ones, but this is a new tool in my toolbox.

I'm not one hundred percent happy with the photos. It's a bit too grungy, but the iphone app wouldn't let me adjust. Some apps are better than others. I have to figure out the timer on both the phone and the big girl camera. I need to get out the tripod and figure out this selfie bit...but, more than likely, you will see me blurred, a bit hidden - I am just not someone who enjoys putting her face out there!

So, time to stretch and time to grow. I'm enjoying the process. I'm slowing down and photographing with more intent. Life is good!

Spiraling

So many lives appear perfect from the outside, looking in.

But, there's just so much we don't know - what are they hiding? Are things spiraling out of control?

We hide things so well, we humans. We want the lives of glossy magazine pages.

But, almost no one has that shiny life.

Each of us is beaten down somehow. We've been tossed, tumbled, and exposed to the elements.

We're scarred; we have holes. Our edges are rough.

And that's what makes us beautiful.