i am crazy ripped paper grafitti advertisement.

beautiful painted worn torn dismissed noticed soft hot missing.

i am glossy simple messages behind glass. color, fragments, reflection.

i am glancing quiet whirring hum. solo, connected, unexpected.

i am void and manifesto. wholly unfinished. biography and story-less. narrator and character. polarity and center.

and that’s all i’ve got today.

photos: nyc. under my skin.

could you tell me what you want? you. the one reading this. could you tell me?

so much of what i am hashing through right now is wound tightly with words like entitlement and deserving. i wonder, are you able to ask for what you want? ask and not feel embarassed? ask and not feel ashamed? indebted? ridiculous? greedy? needy? absurd and three years old?

do you preface your wants with “i know i don’t need this” or somehow devalue your desire?

my wanting wound is healing. granulating from the bottom up. but for now it is open. exposed. at risk for infection. needing to be kept clean and irrigated; and packed with clean, soft dressings.

the healer who played me songs (songs she knew i needed to hear and knew that i knew, without knowing, you know?) she asked me to start keeping a desire journal. a place to write down the wanting as it speaks. as i find the strong voice to speak it.

and so i thought, what better place to begin than here?

(present moment) desire list:

~chocolate

~happiness. the levity kind.

~a more comfortable chair at my desk.

~a massage. the no-elbows, but still strong, gentle kind.

~company. the cozy, easy kind.

~tea. the spicy, gingery kind.

~to be in morocco or india, sitting on a comfortable daybed. with a cashmere throw, lantern light, and someone playing the guitar. after the massage. and with the company and tea.

~to feel settled. risen. light.

~sleep. hours and hours of sleep.

~a planned vacation. somewhere warm. with water (the salty kind).

~my body strong and lean to best enjoy such a vacation.

~nothing to do.

~everything to do.

~a white sofa

~to sell everything and to live in a cave like the guy i saw in matala, crete, many years ago.

~a hot tub.

~a really big life where all these random moment wants are just the inkling of possible. a life that holds my bigness and one created and maintained by my connection with who i am. a life fueled by connection, beauty, and grace. a life that shows my children how very vital it is to know what they want. and that they deserve ALL of it. even the chocolate. but mostly the happiness.

(that was fun. i think i will try it again tomorrow. now, really, will you tell me what you want?)

betty. gulu, uganda. april 2010.

it is a constant practice of re-frame. focus. shift.

i pull the inverse, from fear to bravery, and back again. fast as the shutter on my camera.

so bravery feels like this? like swallowing gulps of air and folding inward while moving forward?

the voices in my head are pretty damn loud. the softness of my flesh still holding the things too heavy to confront.

loving in that kind of way that is electric and disrupts rhythm.

i am a thousand times alive. writing in metaphors, but living 100% real.

(my new site is coming very soon. like next week soon! i think i just may have written the last you'll see in this old space. i've lived in a lot of homes in my life and, i assure you, that this new online home suits me like none other has before.  can't wait to share it with you.)