I don't think a lot of words are needed here. It was a beautiful day, a good workout, and exactly what my winter heart needed.
Happy weekend friends!
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Heartbeat.
You know those difficult conversations? The tearful kind with Texas-size lumps that form slowly and painfully in your chest? I had one of those the other day. It was a good talk, just difficult to begin or articulate. I was having a day when everything was making me cry. Blame it on hormones or that inevitable new year evaluative state that we all find ourselves in right about now, but regardless, I felt a huge shift swelling deep inside of me. The shift had taken the form of opportunity, like I'd been trying not to drown for a year, staying barely afloat, and for once someone was reaching out a hand to pull me out of the water. The opportunity was to grab the hand and trust it, but I felt scared and unsure. I felt like the opportunity was 2016 and the hand was my own. Everything inside of me had been moving quickly forward with ideas, excitement, goals, and momentum, but everything on the outside appeared to be floating at a standstill. My whole life appeared to be floating actually and it has for years. It took me a couple of days to realize that this stagnancy was the source of my grief. So I cried and Scott and I had a conversation.
The beautiful thing about love, and the conclusion we came to that day, is that regardless of how lifeless everything around us seems, there will always be a quiet beating heart pulsing through the two of us. We are the heartbeat. We are the pulse that keeps this life afloat and the only breathing, living thing that can reach in and pull us to shore when we need it most. I'm just so glad I've had someone like Scott to doggy paddle with the last three years and that we seem to be swimming in the same direction.
He doesn't know this, but for the last nine months when I think about how much Scott loves me, I think about cherry coke. There was an unseasonably warm day on the Oregon coast in March where we sat on a blanket for hours working up a quenching thirst for something cold and refreshing. We collected all the change we could find and between my wallet and Scott's pockets we came up with the exact amount we needed to get one can of soda from a vending machine. I wanted cherry coke. He wanted original. After some grumbling and then passively giving in, I agreed to let him get the one he wanted. Back on the blanket the sun had started to set. We settled in comfortably and he reached into our bag for the coke, opening the can and offering it to me for the first sip. It was cherry. He smiled at me with this larger-than-life look in his eyes that spoke loudly to the quiet ways in which two people are in love. The quiet ways in which the heart beats. Thump Thump.
Happy Birthday Scott. You are the love of my life.
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one whole year
I don't think time always flies just when you're having fun. Today marks the one year anniversary of Scott and I driving away from SW Colorado in a Uhaul and starting a new life in Portland, OR. I can't believe it's been a year. One whole YEAR. I don't like being negative, but I'm a firm believer in being real, so if we're being real I'm just going to say it: this year was shitty. And yet somehow, it flew by.
I've been thinking a lot about this moment because in a way, my "new year" starts today and just like all new years it's a time to reflect. It's a time to clean my desk, make to-do lists, write down goals, take a bath, pour a drink, be grateful for what this year has taught me, and say goodbye to 2015. Of course, I haven't done any of those things and it's late afternoon on a Tuesday, but hey the night is still young. I just felt the need to say something to mark this moment. It's not that I've achieved anything big. In fact, I've been quite lost and have been a bit lazy. This is rather a chance for me to say, "Hey look - I did it. I survived." When life gets rough sometimes all we need is to acknowledge we came out okay on the other end, a bit bruised but still looking forward.
Let's backup a few steps and recognize some positive things before saying our proper goodbyes to 2015. (aka shoving it out the door like a rude house guest.) First of all, I love Portland. Like, love, love, love it. I love Scott too. I love him more now that we've moved across the country together (a large feet for any couple) and very ungracefully found our way. There have been some incredibly fun moments this year mostly involving food and nature and for this I am so grateful for moving here and for having Scott to explore (and eat) with. I also love that miraculously I have managed to survive an entire 365 days as a full time photographer in an expensive city where I started out knowing no one. (Albeit a part-time, dog-walking, struggling artist type of photographer, but still.) Can I get a high five? I also want to say that I absolutely love exactly who I am in this moment, which is ironic because I couldn't be farther away from the person I want to be. But slowly over the course of the last 6 months I have learned to be at peace with my weaknesses, my flaws, my mistakes, and through this I have learned to love myself and nurture and take care of me. I have learned to love the process, not the end result. This sounds so cheesy. I just think it's so easy to talk about, but so, so incredibly hard for anyone to actually do. And, equally, it is so important for this to be recognized if it's achieved.
I don't blog much anymore. It probably has something to do with that bit I said about feeling lost and being lazy. As an artist, I think I have always felt a bit lost but don't we all? I find so much comfort in learning that other people - dead, famous, or alive - were and are also very lost. It took me until now to realize most people are just faking it. No one really knows what they're doing and this brings me so much comfort. That puts this whole last year into a different perspective. Maybe it wasn't that bad. Maybe I have just been getting by the same as everyone else I just wasn't blogging or using instagram to falsely portray the struggle. Instead I just got quiet. I'd love to share this new year with you though, if you're game. High fives to a fresh start. High fives to Portland, Scott, and a clean slate!
All of these images were taken along our two-day road trip from Durango to Portland. Our soundtrack was the Serial podcast, our fuel was coffee, and I was most amazed at the snowy, rolling landscape that is eastern Oregon. Portland doesn't feel like home yet, but damn, Oregon is a pretty place and I'm in awe that I get to live here.
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