A last photo and a last word

The other day I was looking through folders of old photos on my computer, and I found an especially meaningful one that brought back a flood of tears and memories.  The lighting is terrible and it was never meant to be a good picture, per se, but I had stopped by my mom’s house shortly after purchasing my new 5D, and I was just sort of snapping away. This was the very last photo I ever took of Edd.

I remember him well in that spot. He was often sitting there when I’d come over to visit… reading the paper or a magazine or watching a show on TV. He’d say “hiiii Jenni,” or get up and come sit at the bar to talk to me. Whenever I go over to my mom’s now, I like to sit there in Edd’s spot, where he was in this picture.

It’s funny, the memories in a place. How a particular piece of space can hold such strong memories of a person that was there at one point in time. Like that old saying goes… “if only walls could talk.” If walls could talk over at my mom’s place, they would speak of so much love, you can’t even wrap you head around it.

One memory both Matthew and I have of Edd made a deep impact on both of us. We were over for dinner one night, and Edd was sitting in the kitchen at a bar stool and we were all chatting as my mom cooked dinner. I don’t remember how the conversation reached this point, but I remember this so vividly. Edd’s face was red and broken out a bit from chemo.  His body had really been ravaged, but there he was, with tears welling up in his eyes as he said, “yeah, I have cancer, but I’m really happy.”

I attribute much of that happiness to the fierce love between him and my mom—the way they gave each other strength when one thing after another was taken away from them. Sometimes maybe it’s a blessing when all you have left is the love.

And it really makes you think, you know? If everything was taken away from you, all the things you have no real control over, what would be left? I think I’ve found that the answer to this question is 1. your spirit (the part of you that doesn’t die), and 2. your relationships. And it makes me think about what I’m really “nurturing” in my life.  Really makes me think.

I tend to boil everything down to lessons learned in Harry Potter (ha ha), and one quote by Dumbledore always stood out to me. He said, “Do not pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living, and, above all, those who live without love.” And that’s so true, don’t you think? Edd’s life and death was proof to me that cancer and dying isn’t the worst thing that could happen to a person. But a life without love and friendships and close, healthy, meaningful relationships that transcend time and space and pain and, yes, even death? That would be the worst of all.

“Yeah, I have cancer, but I’m really happy.” What is in your life that brings you joy, even when life isn’t perfect? How can you build on those things, those relationships?

Just things I’m thinking today. Happy Tuesday. :)

On Being Hungry (or, what I learned during my unintentional 3 week fast)

It was almost three weeks ago now that my little friend the stomach bug decided to take up residence in my intestines (WOW, this post is off to a great start already isn’t? I promise I won’t be gross…), but I am happy to say that I’m finally feeling back to normal (or at least close to it), and my lab test results came back clear. Yesterday I ate an entire burger at my favorite joint downtown, and truly… it was a mouthgasm. Ask my mom. I was almost in tears, it was so good. There was a little bit of grunting and groaning and cavewoman sounds going on. Don’t judge. You’d be doing the same thing if you’d been eating toast and applesauce for three weeks straight.

Over the past three terrible weeks of the-longest-virus-anyone-has-ever-had,—ever, I have been thinking a lot about hunger.  Mainly because I was almost always hungry.  That deep, emptiness in the pit of your stomach, can’t concentrate on anything type of hunger.  Sometimes I would just stuff my face with something delicious (read: horrible), such as a large McDonald’s french fry, but then I would pay for it in spades. It wasn’t worth it. Turns out I’d rather be hungry.

I would click through blogs or scroll through photos of those I follow on Instagram, and I’d see photo after mouthwatering photo of all your delicious food shots, and I would die a little inside.  Seriously, there were a couple of times that I actually teared up, because I realized how much we take for granted the simple act of eating great food when we’re hungry. We take for granted the accessibleness of it, the abundance of it (for most folks, anyway).

For me, cooking awesome meals used to be fun. This was somewhere during, oh… maybe the first six months of my marriage? I was determined to be the good little wife that tried new recipes almost every night of the week, and I beamed when my husband loved them and pouted when a meal didn’t turn out as great as I’d hoped.  But somewhere along the way, I burned out on all the cooking (as I often do with… everything), and I never really got back into it. Now I stick to tried and true recipes (especially ones that are extremely easy), and I grumble to myself all throughout the process of preparing a meal. When I’m not begging to go out somewhere to eat, that is. Terrible, I know.

But over these weeks—the hungry weeks—something seemed to click back into place inside me. Whether it will stay clicked remains to be seen, but I think I rediscovered the joy of cooking fresh and healthy meals for myself and my little family. All I could think about these past few weeks was all the glorious food I would make for my husband when I’m feeling better and he’s done with finals, and how I’ll never again take for granted the act of sinking my teeth into something delicious (oh, and then keeping it inside my body for more than 20 minutes, of course). 

A few other things also occurred to me during this experience with hunger, one being that too often we don’t actually wait to be hungry to eat.  Because food is so readily available to us, we often snack or eat a meal at the first sign of hunger (which, I think, we actually might sometimes mistake for the simple feeling of not being full), and at least for me anyway, this causes me to not enjoy food very much.  Of course it’s never good to wait until you’re famished before you eat, since then you tend to overindulge, but I do think it’s healthy to wait until you’re good and hungry before you eat. I think this might help me stay motivated to cook real, balanced meals, and get excited about food like I was during the hungry weeks.

All just observations and thoughts I wanted to write out, for my own benefit down the line, as well as for whomever else it might concern. Hunger isn’t always a bad thing. Like every other feeling that’s uncomfortable, it just might teach you something if you let it.

Tune in tomorrow for some gorgeous photos from the farmer’s market. I’ve never felt more excited about food as I did this weekend! :) Happy Sunday!

(sneak peek of tomorrow’s post…)

What my Twenties are teaching me

…but you have to go over here to find out.

Happy Hump Day! :)

Sunday Thoughts

I’ve been having stomach issues for two weeks now, and it’s gotten to the point that I’m sort of a wreck… tired and lethargic all the time due to lack of nutrients, and grumpy and quick to anger because I’m always hungry.  Earlier today I was sitting on the couch with Gracie and Cooper, when Cooper took off running and barking towards the front door (as he often does, for no reason… I joke that “he heard an earthworm moving a mile away”), and then Gracie, who was partially on my lap, followed suit and bolted after him, knocking my water glass out of my hand and sending its icy contents flying.  Well, an event like this one would have normally pissed me off, but this time it sent me into a rage, and I was probably screaming expletives and definitely slamming kitchen drawers unnecessarily as I went to find a towel.  Point is, some stuff’s not right inside my body at the moment (and don’t worry, I’m going to the doctor again tomorrow).

However, during these last couple weeks of mild suffering and my first time ever experiencing real, lasting hunger, I’ve been humbled to think of just how my problems stack up to that of others’.  Yesterday my mom tearfully recounted an exchange between her and Edd in their bathroom, when he was just so overcome by the effects of his chemo, which included intensely painful mouth sores on his lips, inside his mouth, down his throat and, we learned later, also out the other end.  The cancer and the treatments were merciless to Edd, and this was just one of the many horrible side effects he endured in his last months.  It made eating very painful and obviously no longer enjoyable, if not impossible.  Another of life’s pleasures snatched away from him.

Edd was saying to my mom, “I just don’t know what to do… I don’t know what else to do.”

And since he never seemed to, ever, bring this up or even consider it a possibility, my mom said to him quietly, “you could stop taking chemo, you know.”

She said Edd blinked a few times, and slowly some sort of realization washed over his face.  Like he’d never thought of that before.

After a moment, he said, “…But then I’ll die.”

And they cried there in the bathroom together.  It was the first time they’d considered that possibilty—giving up—letting the cancer win. 

That story touched me so deeply, and like I said, humbles me.  The things that man endured.  The reality he lived. 

And the things we complain about! It’s disgusting. Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve found myself praying the feeble prayer that God will take away my stomach virus or bacteria or ulcer or whatever the hell it is that’s causing my issues, but then I caught myself.  I don’t know if I want to pray for God to take away my suffering anymore, now or in any other area of my life.  Or maybe I still will, but I think I’ll understand a little better if he doesn’t, and I’ll be a little braver.   People all over this world are experiencing far more unthinkable pain than you or I will maybe ever feel, and it puts things into perspective when you see that.  When you watch someone live it.  When you know it could happen to you, or someone you love.  It helps you to not take things for granted, and to live a little more in each moment. 

I have a feeling that Edd’s cancer and his suffering and his passing will be teaching me things, and also giving me courage, for many years to come. 

People do what they want to do, part II

While I was in college and during the year Matthew and I did the long distance thing, I lived in a tiny little two bedroom, one bath house built in the 1950’s.  That house had ugly green carpets, a bit of a roach problem, and was terribly drafty… I remember the walls in winter being ice cold, and in the summer the AC ran almost all day long.  But I loved that little house, and I was proud to call it home, despite all the troubles that come with renting an older place. 

I remember always feeling overwhelmed, though.  I had one bathroom, and I couldn’t keep it clean.  A bedroom that was always strewn with clothes and textbooks and other miscellaneous junk.  900 square feet of space, and yet I couldn’t keep the carpets clean or the kitchen tidy or the yard manicured. 

Now I know part of that just has to do with being young and busy and inexperienced in such matters (up until that point, I’d only had to keep a bedroom clean).  But sometimes I look back on that and think to myself how pathetic it was that I couldn’t keep up with that place.  I was busy, but not that busy.  What it came down to was that I was just lazy and didn’t understand my own potential to get things done and, yes, still have time to relax. 

The result was that I always felt guilty, always felt behind, never had that “ahhhhhh…” feeling of a clean home and an organized life.  Now don’t get me wrong—I definitely haven’t perfected all this yet.  Quite the contrary.  But looking back on my past and also watching people I admire, like my husband, and the way they tackle all the tasks set before them has been a learning experience for me over the last couple of years.  I’ve learned that almost all of my limitations are self-imposed, and I’m working on training myself to be another way, even though it doesn’t really come natural to me. 

The second post I ever wrote on this blog was titled “people do what they want to do,” and it was about just that. If someone isn’t keeping up with things they should be in their life, it’s because they don’t want to. There are other things more important to them, and they haven’t developed the habits to do the things they should before they do the things they want.  And I guess my challenge to myself lately (and now maybe you?) is to do the things you should, and just maybe, when you develop those good habits, they’ll become the things you want.  I’m seeing this happen in my own life!  Slowly, but surely.  I’m taking an active role in my life—making actionable plans, and then carrying them out.  I even have an accountability partner I “check in” with via Skype every day, and it’s been helping SO much. 

We’re all so different.  Some of us are “take the bull by the horns” types, maybe because of our personalities or our upbringing, etc.  But I believe that, even if you’re not, you can train yourself to be.  You can make your life something you’re proud of, whether you’re a student, a stay at home mom, a small business owner, or climbing up the corporate ladder (and everything in between). 

Just some random thoughts I’m thinking today. Hope it’s a good one for you! 

(not sure of image source)

Some words, some pictures, and a song.

I’m feeling strangely stifled this morning.  I woke up excited about a new day and a new week… ready to be honest and open about my feelings and share a little more about Edd’s passing 4 weeks ago tomorrow.  I wrote it all out. It was cathartic, and I cried… a lot… as I typed. 

But then I couldn’t hit publish.  I read what I wrote over and over again, and it just wasn’t enough.  It was just a string of sentences tied together by commas and periods and ellipses. It was just facts. And it didn’t fully express what we experienced… what EDD experienced.  It felt too private, it felt cold, and it felt not good enough.

So I guess right now, until the time comes (if it comes) when I’m ready to write more about the enormity of this thing that happened and that changed me, I just want to acknowledge that no matter what I write here, no matter what kind of sunny posts you see (because those are so much easier to write), it still hurts.  I’m still working through it, as I know my mom is and my step brothers are and everyone else who was deeply touched by Edd’s life and death.  I imagine it will all come out in bits and pieces over the next months and years, and even though it goes without saying, I’m sure, I just wanted to say that even though we carry on and live our lives and eat out at restaurants and take pretty pictures and laugh sometimes, there’s always a part of me (and my family) that’s grieving.  You learn to live with that grief, because there’s no other choice.

A wonderful reader named Sam left a comment a while back that really stuck with me, and I wrote it on a little piece of paper and left it on my mom’s pillow the night before Edd’s funeral, and she even read it at the service.  It said, “someday you’ll walk around the hole in your heart instead of falling in it.” 

For now, though, I think we’re all still falling in it.

One last thing… I found this quote the other day, and it really blew me away.  I wanted to share it here too, for anyone who might need to hear it:

“I actually attack the concept of happiness. I don’t mind people being happy - but the idea that everything we do is part of the pursuit of happiness seems to me a really dangerous idea and has led to a contemporary disease in Western society, which is fear of sadness. It’s a really odd thing that we’re now seeing people saying 'write down 3 things that made you happy today before you go to sleep', and 'cheer up' and 'happiness is our birthright' and so on. We’re kind of teaching our kids that happiness is the default position - it’s rubbish. Wholeness is what we ought to be striving for and part of that is sadness, disappointment, frustration, failure; all of those things which make us who we are. Happiness and victory and fulfillment are nice little things that also happen to us, but they don’t teach us much. Everyone says we grow through pain and then as soon as they experience pain they say 'Quick! Move on! Cheer up!' I’d like just for a year to have a moratorium on the word 'happiness' and to replace it with the word 'wholeness'. Ask yourself 'is this contributing to my wholeness?' and if you’re having a bad day, it is.”

Hugh Mackay, psychologist and social researcher

I like to think that all of this is contributing to my wholeness, and for that I am grateful. 

1. Gracie baby
2. .25 cent books from the Austin citywide garage sale yesterday
3. My gorgeous necklace by Megan
4. Coop.
5. Cute grandparents
6. The prettiest little egg we found in our backyard

Hope you have a wonderful Monday…

The thing(s) about writing

Being a writer is one of my most defining characteristics.  I feel like one of the lucky people in this life who were just born knowing what they should do, and writing is it for me.  It’s one reason why I think this blog has been fairly successful, because it’s coming from a place inside me where I am in my element (this is a fabulous post that really hit home the other day, about being in your element). 

Sometimes, usually when I’m driving in my car, I become so lost in these stories in my head that I switch to autopilot and, however many minutes or hours later, I find I’ve reached my destination and have no real memory of how I got there.  Dangerous? Maybe.  But my point is… the stories.  They’re in there!  The characters are already a part of me, even though they’re undeveloped. 

A while back I became obsessed with the idea of writing a novel, and I set out to do it.  I’m most inspired by music, so I created playlists that really fed my creativity, and I would spend hours “brainstorming.”  (by the way, brainstorming for a writer looks a lot like sleeping or meditation… or insanity.)  I had some ideas I liked—some characters I really wanted to develop further—and I was more excited than I’d been in a long time!  I was gonna do this!

But you know what I wound up writing of that novel?  The sex scene.  Like, just the sex scene.  But it was awesome. 

And when the rest of it never really happened, because I just didn’t quite feel ready yet, I realized something, and Henry David Thoreau says it best: 

How vain it is to sit down to write when you have not stood up to live. 

I remember something Edd said to me, and it was what sort of got me thinking on this topic.  We were talking about writing as a profession and he said something like “I guess in order to be a writer you have to have life experiences.” 

And then I scratched my head and was all, “well, shit.”

Because I’m way more comfortable sitting in my pjs in my comfy house behind my nice, safe computer screen.  But I don’t know if that’s how it works, with writing.  Your writing will only ever be one dimensional, if you’re going about it that way.  In order to really convince your readers, you have to have felt things yourself, to an extent.  Not saying you have to be in an adulterous relationship to write about one or something, but do you need to have depth and dimension to you to write characters of depth and dimension? I think so.

I guess lately I’ve been challenging myself to experience things and feel things more fully, because as a writer, our experiences feed our craft.  But this might be uncomfortable for me!  You know… doing stuff.  Following other dreams.  Meeting people.  Taking life up on some of what it has to offer.  Even embracing the awkward and not-so-perfect scenarios, whatever they may be. 

I think, as a writer, one of the very best things you can do for your craft is to live.  And then, while you’re living, it’s also important to do a couple other things, like write more than just the sex scene…

Thoughts on Working From Home

 

Just wanted to start off your Monday with some pretty images. :)  These were all taken at the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center here in Austin, which is in FULL bloom right now! My mom and I sneezed our way through there the other day, and managed to snap some pretty pictures of the flowers in the process.

In other news, this morning I’m starting Day 1 of “business hours,” which I’m hoping will help me to stay disciplined and on task throughout each day.  I am someone who thrives on structure and always did well at school and work when I had someone to answer to, but now that I answer to myself? Well, let’s just say the rules and regulations are fairly lax around here.  I’m often not proud of myself at the end of the day, and always feel I should have accomplished more and wasted less time on this or that. 

It’s many people’s dream to work from home, and it truly is mine, too.  At this point, the thought of going out and getting a “real” job makes me cringe, because I feel my passion is for writing and photography and social media, and working for anyone but myself would be stifling to me.  BUT, every day I worry that I’m wasting this opportunity I’ve been given, to be my own boss and make my own way.  I witness people like my husband and like Edd and like others I know who have this unyielding drive that pushes them forward, and I want that!  But I think for some people, myself included, it doesn’t come naturally.  I have to work at it, and really hard.  The habits need to be formed.  The natural tendency to be a lazy ass needs to be understood and then battled daily.  And stuff needs to get done.  Checked off the list.  Progress made.  For me, progress has been slow lately.  And I have no one to blame but myself.

So, business hours! Structure!  There’s no one here to create it for me, so I’m trying really hard to create it for myself.  We only get one life, you know?  And I want to enjoy mine, and be proud of myself and what I’ve poured my time into.  So I wrote out these business hours explicitly, and even made myself a list of what business hours include and what they don’t.  I want the luxury of being flexible and being able to make my own schedule, but I know I also need to give myself more direction than I have been.

What about you?  If you work from home, what ways have you found to stay disciplined and on task throughout the day?  Do share…

Easter thoughts + Instagram Dump (B.O.I. Week 11)

Happy Easter, my friends… how was your weekend? Restful, I hope. Ours was eventful, as you may have already caught wind of in yesterday’s post? Oy!  And I should also add that the giraffe was not the only shipment to arrive from Africa.  My house really is a zoo now…  I could charge admission just to visit.

Anyway, this morning we had a lovely brunch at my mom’s, where we enjoyed a feast of pancakes, eggs, sausage, melon, and coffee cake, alongside some good conversation and, of course, the cursory Easter peeps.  We paid our respects to Edd at the beautiful wooden urn that contains his ashes, and there was something strangely comforting about that.  His presence is still felt.  I couldn’t help but think back to my Easter post last year, and when I looked it up, the tears flowed.  That smile on Edd’s face!  Damn his staggering ability to be happy, right up through the end. It makes me feel deeply ashamed of my own pathetic ability to have a consistently shitty attitude.  For real.

Grace.  We talked a little today about how the grace with which Edd handled his disease was truly astounding, and though watching someone suffer like Edd did can certainly cause you to have some issues with your God and your faith, the grace… it’s hard to attribute it to anything but God working within him, despite the cancer. 

We also talked about how suffering has a purpose, and that’s to strip you of every single thing that’s not important, leaving only what is.  Of course, it’s still hard to embrace suffering—damn near impossible.  But it’s also near impossible to ignore the beauty I saw in the love and caring and stripped-down-ness of my mom and Edd’s relationship.

Just food for thought. 

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After a short sabbatical, I am back on board with Best of Instagram! Here’s a few recent pictures… (username jenniSOML on Instagram)

1. A new favorite dress from Ruche and a lovely bracelet by Miss Jenna!
2. My outfit for Easter today. Necklace by Stella & Dot.

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3. This tea is supposed to help my PMS.  We’ll see. (nailpolish here in “now you sea me”)
4. Beautiful tulips from the incredibly kind Kristin. :)

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5. Gracie and the water hose. More obsessed Gracie photos here.
6. Tuckered out. :)

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7. Spooning!
8. Keeping watch.

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9. I have named it Martin.
10. Never thought I’d see the day I put one of these in my office, but it actually looks pretty darn cool.

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11. Flowers clipped from the yard to keep me company while I work.
12. Cosmetics.

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13. My loves.
14. New favorite necklace courtesy of my blestie (blog bestie, not sure who coined that) Megan.  Its official name is the “Edinburgh,” but I have renamed it the “Edd-inburgh.”  :)  Tonight’s the last night to get a major discount in the Across The Pond shop, so get on that!

Add your links below, if you’d like!

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Seasons. (our weekend at the ranch + serious “big life stuff”)

The state of Texas has its downfalls, but one thing I’ll always love about it here are the wildflowers in spring.  It’s not that we have particularly harsh winters, but after a season of drab and dead and (sometimes) cold, spring here is such a refreshing turn.  Except for all the Texas sized bugs.  Those are not refreshing.

Matthew and I rounded out his spring break with a nice long weekend at the ranch, and since the last time I’ve been there, things have changed tremendously.  The trees that were once skeletal and bare are now budding and green, and wildflowers literally fill the fields and blanket the ground in most areas.  It was really breathtaking, and I found myself seeing everything through the frame of my camera—imagining how it would look in a picture.  Funny how perspectives change with our passions. 

To be honest with you, my heart has been really heavy lately.  Edd is slipping away.  Last night my mom needed help getting him from the living room to his bed, and he was confused and frightened and just… gone.  It broke my heart to see him that way. He’s not the man we knew anymore.  The cancer has taken the part of him that made him him.  The decline has been so rapid in the past couple weeks…   I haven’t been able to write about it.  No words seem to do this justice—what I’ve seen the cancer do to him and people I care about.  I’ve been feeling disingenuous on this blog lately, because I feel the need to carry on and continue posting (which I really do enjoy), but to not tell you about this other huge thing… the loss I sense is so near and, really, has already occurred… I can’t gloss over it, even though I never have the right words.  It’s real.  It hurts like nothing I’ve ever experienced, and I have trouble not focusing on it, not feeling it all throughout the day, because I know he’s suffering, and I know my mom is suffering in a whole other way.  Even our family dachshund, Nicky, is sick and old and needs to be put to sleep. When it rains it pours, right?

I’ve never lost anyone I really love before, but I guess now begins that time of life when you have to learn to face death and somehow come to terms with it.  I was thinking out at the ranch this weekend about how hopeless this life would be if we weren’t given the promise of spring.  Change.  Good things to come.  Because there are such good things to come!  Even when it feels like the season you’re in might never end. It will.  It will be good again.

Anyway, sorry to be so heavy.  Why are my heaviest posts always on Monday? Forgive me. :)  And thanks for reading! Here are a few more fun pictures from our weekend at the ranch…

 Can we talk about how incredibly adorable my mother in law is for a minute?

in which i wax poetic about my obsessive love for my animals.

Don’t you just want to squish those little faces?  GAH, I love adore them.

My lil’ Cooper butt is at the vet today.  Yesterday he started breaking out in some weird bumps all over the right side of his face, and he was scratching them until they bled.  Poor bubba.  I can’t stand it when my dogs are in pain or discomfort and there’s nothing I can do about it.  We took him in this morning to be kept at the vet’s office until they have a free minute to look at him, and before we dropped him off, the tech asked if we were interested in having senior wellness testing done.

Senior wellness testing.

I cried.  I’m still crying!    He’s not even quite 7 years old yet!  My little guy… he’ll always be my baby boy, no matter how old and grey. 

On another note, I’m thinking about getting a Gracie and Cooper tattoo. Possibly a giant sketch of their faces across my shoulder blades.

I kid.

Probably something very small, like a little “G&C, always” in cursive somewhere obscure.  Thoughts?  I am not a tattoo person, but the unconditional love and relentless companionship those two have given me over the years is something I never, ever want to forget.  The love between a man (woman) and his (her) dog is something so pure—something to strive for in all your relationships. Something to remember.  When there comes a day that there’s no Cooper under my desk, sleeping on my feet, trailing behind me all throughout the house, or no little Gracie snoring away on the bed behind me, nibbling nervously on every single thing, watching me for keywords like “treat” or “walk” or “dinner” or “grandma,”  I’ll die inside a little, I really will.  These two will always be my first and best loves.

Kiss your furry friends today, OK?  Or if you don’t have one, adopt, if you’re in the position to! So, so, so many need to be loved and to love.  Austinites, try here or here!

Happy Thursday from my little family to yours! :)

  Cooper

Gracie

Thoughts on Texas Style Council (part 1)

Good Monday morning everyone!  I’m tired and slightly puffy-eyed this morning after a long weekend of  Texas Style Council festivities!  For those of you who aren’t familiar, TxSC is an exciting Blogger conference held right here in Austin and organized by Indiana and Elissa, two fabulous ladies I had the pleasure of meeting over the past couple of days! 

I knew I’d be slightly out of my element this weekend since my blog isn’t fashion based, but I signed up for the conference hoping to learn and network and just have a fun weekend with ladies who understand my passion for blogging.  Luckily, expectations were met, and it was a fabulous, albeit exhausting time.  I have to laugh at myself, because my major in college was Communication, social interaction concentration, and yet I find in-person social interaction to be emotionally draining and exhausting… I’d probably be OK with sleeping the entire rest of this week! But that’s the funny and awesome thing about bloggers—I think many (if not most) of us are more comfortable behind the computer screen, which is why we’re carving out a space for ourselves online! 

However, I refuse to accept my slightly anti-social tendencies, and I thought a conference like this would be a great way to get out of my comfort zone (which typically involves stretchy pants, my lambie blanket, and some degree of smelling like a dog).

It’s funny the insecurities these types of conferences can bring out in even the best of us though, isn’t it?  Everyone looked SO gorgeous and stylish this weekend, and yet I had a feeling 90% of the ladies who attended were probably nervous as hell and just hoping they measured up.  I had what I tried to consider the advantage of having nothing to prove since my blog falls very much more into the lifestyle category, but it was still a bit intimidating. I ADORE clothes and fashion, but dressing myself in a unique and fashion conscious way has never come naturally for me.  It’s something I really want to have a better handle of, and I hope that, one day, readers who comb through past outfit posts on this blog will be able to see a visible progression in my personal style.  It’s a work in progress, y’all.  If you only knew how awkward I once was and how far I’ve actually come.  If you only knew.  Do you remember this fugly picture?  Yeah.  Enough said. 

So anyway, Texas Style Council was a great experience overall, and I’ll be recapping a bit more over the next few days.  I have tons of fabulous pictures to pick through now, so please excuse me while I go do just that.  Check back soon for more fun pictures from the weekend and notes I took during yesterday’s panels (including wise words from ladies like Kendi and Camille!).

Happy Monday!

Wednesday Thoughts

The other day I was pressing down on something with my index finger and felt a sudden, dull little pain I hadn’t experienced in quite some time.  Something like 17 years ago I touched some broken glass, and a tiny shard of that glass lodged itself in the tip of my right hand’s index finger, never to be seen again… only felt, occasionally.  It’s always strange when I feel it there—a reminder of something that caused me pain when I was just a little girl.  I remember it so well: the glass door to our military housing apartment building in Germany had somehow been broken and, in true “all I want to do is exactly what I shouldn’t do” little kid form, I touched the broken door.  And I’m still paying for it almost two decades later.

When I felt that sudden pain the other day, it got me thinking.  That glass in my finger, despite all the time that’s passed and even though I can’t see it and usually can’t feel it, still sometimes DOES make itself known, often when I least expect it.  And that made me think about other hurts we carry—other scars, other proverbial “glass shards” in our fingers.  We are all products of our circumstances.  The way we were brought up… the things we’ve seen… the mistakes we’ve made…and often the mistakes others have made.  And it’s healthy and good to be aware of how those things might affect us—might change how we act and react, might change how we view the world.  It’s good to not forget.

I’ve been seeing a counselor lately—not because I think I’m royally screwed up and heading down a one way street to Crazy Town, but because I’ve recently come to realize that things about my past affect how I am today, even when I don’t realize it and even when I don’t feel “damaged.”  So far I’ve learned that I’m really, really good at repressing and pressing on.  It’s who I am.  But that doesn’t mean who I am hasn’t changed as a result of my experiences.  No one gets out of this life unscarred. No one.  Some cuts and scars are deeper than others—some people have it much, much worse than I.  But I’m coming to realize how important it is to understand what makes you trip up sometimes.  Before I started this counseling, I literally had no idea what exactly was causing certain issues I’ve had, but within one session with the counselor, he had me pegged. Not saying that everyone would have that easy of a time, but I tend to wear my heart on my sleeve and chronically over share (hello, Story of My Life), so my guy has an easy time of it. 

All I’m saying is that when you understand the root of the problems, you’re better equipped to address them.   Most of us have scars… or little shards of glass lodged so deep they’re easy to forget.  But they’ll pop up every now and again.  Best to understand why.  Can’t fix it if you don’t know what’s broke.

Thanks for reading today.  Hope you have a wonderful Wednesday!

What I’m Giving Up (maybe.)

I’m not Catholic and so don’t traditionally observe Lent, but lately I’ve been considering giving something up for a while….. 

And what is that, you may ask? 

Wait for it.

Wait for it.

SHOPPING. GAHthereIsaidit. (Can you sense my inner turmoil?)

There’s something about buying a 2000+ dollar camera plus lens plus accessories that will do that to ya.  Make you question your spending habits and whether or not you can really afford to step foot in another J.Crew for the next, oh, FIVE YEARS. 

But what’s worse is that, as a blogger, I feel it my DUTY to make purchases.  I have rooms in my house to finish so that I may photograph them!  For the blog!  I have outfits that aren’t quite complete or blog-worthy until I buy that extra accessory to go along with them!  Hell, I just need new outfits, altogether!  Spring fashion this year is fabulous! My style is evolving! Must stay current! For the blog!

Well that would all be well and good if there was a money tree growing in our backyard, but I’ve checked and all that’s out there is dog shit.  So I’ve been feeling convicted that, if I want to make some money to be able to buy more stuff, it’s going to take a little bit of sacrificing for a while as I learn the ins and outs of photography and start up my business. 

Sacrifice.  I don’t like that word!  But I’ve noticed that anyone who’s made anything out of themselves in this life was willing to do it.  And for some reason I think what’s required of me, maybe just for the month of March at first (let’s not get carried away), is a bit of a spending freeze.  Or maybe I just allow myself $100 to buy a new dress or as much crap from Forever 21 as I can bleed out of that $100?  I’ll think on this.

Oh, and one more thing.  You know, blogging and blog reading and Pinterest-ing can be THE WORST when it comes to coveting and lusting over material things.  Sometimes I feel like around every bend I’m faced with some FABULOUSIHAVETOHAVEIT item or amazing little shop or “great deal” that I’d be stupid to pass up.  But really, each and every one of us has to look at our unique situation and our end goals and ask ourselves if our spending habits are in line with those goals.  Food for thought.

Here’s a pretty picture.

 Happy Wednesday :)

This blew me away.

Source: fab.com via Jenni on Pinterest

 

My girl Sarah posted a version of this the other day, and it blew me away.  I feel like I am THERE.  In that gap—photography, writing… hell, even in my my efforts as a WIFE.  I found this SO encouraging.  Like, wow wow wow. YES.  I hope some of you find it encouraging too.  Happy Friday!

Do you get away?

This weekend we went out to the ranch to spend some time with family and to just “get away”… something that’s become increasingly important to Matthew since he started law school.  We had a nice time, and I’ve been feeling lucky that we have a place like that to go to, even though it’s not particularly fancy or luxurious.  Fancy or not, it’s a place to go to see things and do things that break up some up that monotony of every day life, and to make you feel a little less like you’re sinking in the sludge. Cause we all have sludge, you know.  Such is life.

I don’t know about you, but personally I’m a bit (ok A LOT) of a homebody and sometimes it doesn’t feel like my natural tendency to get out and DO things and be around people.  Sometimes that’s something I have to force myself to do because I know that once I get there I’ll enjoy it and it’ll be good for me. 

But lately I’ve been realizing how incredibly important it is for an artist of any kind to simply get out or get away.  Whether that means visiting a different country or a different town or just making time to meet new people or go new places in your own city.  Our minds are funny things, and they’re most stimulated by new sights and sounds and smells and experiences.  Of course that’s not really rocket science, and yet so many of us resist change and getting out of our comfort zone.  Or in my case, my comfort RUT. And then we wonder why our art suffers.

I guess the main thing I wanted to say was that if you’re feeling uninspired, try going somewhere you never (or rarely) go or doing something you never do. Lately I’ve been having the strongest urges to do just that—even if it only means turning down a street I’ve never turned or going into a store I’ve never shopped in. I really find that it seems to jumpstart my creativity every time, and it also helps me to appreciate what I have more.  Sometimes it even makes me happy to get back to the sludge.  Imagine that.

Happy Monday!

sunset at the ranch

attire

an “Elk shed.” somewhere there’s a really lopsided Elk!

exploring

by the fire

“Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it.  Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.”  Howard Thurman