It feels like this thing - this being with piercing eyes and intent - pulsing and morphing in the corner of my life. This thing with a whole lot of potential energy but no room to move. The creativity monster. It looks like gak and smells like type II fun. And, despite my usual penchant for “fun” of this sort, I keep it at bay with routine, stability, and movement, a full calendar and a manageable life. If I really knew what was best for me, I’d stop long enough to let it in. I’d let it swell so large it would start to creep - roll, billow, overflow - into the path I walk each day.
Come on creativity monster, creep on in. 🦠
Ruminations from my morning pages, December 14, 2018
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📷: @austin_siadak
Two years ago, I worked for UPS for the month of December. I cherish the experience so much: it taught me how hard delivery drivers work and the sheer delight of a doorstep thank you note, where to find free hot chocolate at apartment complexes and how to exclusively take right turns. More than that, it gave me secret backstage access to another person’s daily existence - one so different from my own. It really set the gears in motion: how many myriad ways can a life be lived?
I could work at a bar in Brooklyn or manage a small town grocery store in Kentucky, bake bread at the Mazama Store or croissants at a Parisian bakery. I could chase tornados across the plains, be a high school football coach, or move anywhere in the world and teach English. Drive a taxi in San Francisco or a tractor in Iowa or a long haul semi across the country.
And heck, I could even be a Canadian Rockies hardwoman, suffering willingly for beautiful lines of ice and the feeling of a pick really striking home. I could drive down dark, cold roads and debate with my partner over start times and temperatures, dial in what snacks to eat with bulky gloves, learn the finer details of conditions and terrain. Scope routes from below and dream of ascending them with skill.
But the thing is - just like I probably won’t chase tornados or bake croissants in Paris - I probably won’t pursue true alpine hardwoman-dom. Whop whop. And as airport Christmas music fills the space around my sleep-deprived brain, I find myself wondering...why not? 🥐🌪How many lives can I pack into a lifetime?
📷: @sarahleannehart
I’ve been consuming metaphors voraciously recently, although that’s nothing especially new for me. The human condition feels real and alive in my world right now - a seemingly disproportionate number of people dear to me are hurting, dealing with wounds of an internal and ethereal sort. (Our burdens aren’t life and death, to be sure, as food, shelter, and health are usually a given. Yet - aware of my privilege, even ashamed - I want to say they’re burdens nonetheless, and arguably ones of life and death too, though in a different sense.) But I hold on to the knowledge that winter begets spring, that leaves whither and die to make way for blossoms. That forests burn in order to grow. That - this morning, after a night of rain - the desert was brighter and more fragrant than I’ve ever known it to be.
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I hope you lean into your pain dear friends, I hope you have the courage to look for truth in it. I hope you let parts of yourself wither and die, and begin to see new growth in the burn. I hope, oh, I really do, that you can stand in the desert rain, open your arms to the sky, and relish in the discomfort, even. And in it all, I hope you know that spring is on its way.
The time is here! @austin_siadak has been so hard at work, culling through years worth of images and debating over sizes and print papers, all to bring you this: his real-deal, life-sized, online print shop! And just in time for the giving season too. I don’t think many people take photos of rocks as well as Austin does, so the fact that these images are now available to you and your friends is pretty neat. And if you don’t have a house or cabin or van to hang a photo, check out his super-affordable note card sets too! See my bio☝🏼for a link, or check Austin out at @austin_siadak. Find all these 📷 and many more at the print shop.
When I feel it in my waking hours it permeates my dreams. Last night I fingerprinted in a fine art class, unable to pick up a brush to make something beautiful. I signed up for the wrong class in college, and some friend was forcing me to build a fence in my backyard. My life isn’t particularly stressful - it’s actually better than I ever imagined it could be - but I’ve made it hectic lately. Full. I’ve bailed on friends, woke to 5am alarms, even got a speeding ticket. So this morning I stopped time for a second, made my shallow breaths deep, and let myself be captivated by beauty - no stopwatch or to do list tugging at my attention. I reset, saw the forest through the trees, slowed it all down...and I haven’t always been able to do that.
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This morning, I’m thankful - oh so thankful - for growth, for therapy, and for the grace of time. For being born and raised a resilient person with the courage to look at the wilderness inside me. For my loving family, for climbing, my job, and my community of friends near and far (I’m comin’ for ya @hannahlily17 @whitneyclark6 @jacqui_sara #alixmorris!!). And I’m thankful for this dear one, @gabbycasper, my built in best friend, sister, confidant, and drinking buddy (KIDDING Gabby). Look at her, she’s letting go. 📷: @austin_siadak
