Of Earth and Air
Listen: www.youtube.com/watch?v=8VF4P9D1Nuw
Today marks another trip around the sun for me—the end of one means the start of another. I shot this self-portrait with the help of my love, Adric Knight, during a camping trip a few weeks ago up on Mt. Rainier, one of the most beautiful places on the planet. I've been steeped in a deep, omnipresent depression for a few years now, but lately, I can feel myself lifting out of the mire, *finally*. I wanted an image that depicted how it's felt to rise up once more—to feel the kiss of sunlight and the brisk wind and to recognize the beauty in this place.
Life is fleeting, yes, but those words tend to feel empty and redundant. So I'll try to describe how those words hold deeper meaning for me these days than they did five and more years ago...
When I was in my early twenties, I was caught up in a terrible relationship that fed on my very spirit. I wasn't making art. In fact, I'd given up on the idea of ever being an artist—despite having growing up with a pencil and paper in hand for the entirety of my childhood—and resigned myself to simple office work for a state-run company. I was miserable. I had no friends to speak of. I was being dominated in an unhealthy, abusive situation, and I had just enough energy to get myself up in the morning and go to my day job, followed by my evening job, trying to keep up with bills. I put myself through community college, which gave me a spark of hope and began to remind me that deep down, I'm an artist. Still, I persevered in an unhappy marriage and continued to sell myself short by not freeing myself from the entrapments and damage of those closest to me.
Eventually, I got out. Escaping this situation was no small feat. And I do mean escaping. Slowly, over the years, I tended to the wreckage that was my life. It was hard to watch myself starting over again, from the beginning, with a wounded heart and spirit, feeling so incredibly destitute and dealing with the harm that had been caused for years to come (truly, dealing with it even now, all this time later). And yet, the freedom I had gained invigorated and intoxicated me to no end. Just what I needed at the time.
It wasn't until a few years later that I picked up a used camera, on a whim, and began taking photos... Suddenly, I was impassioned. I realized that this camera wasn't just a tool and means of expression—it was a lifeline.
One of my favorite sayings is "The way out is through." The past few weeks, this saying has been ringing in my head as a mantra. Reclaiming myself as an artist and using this means of expression has been my way through. And the journey continues on—there's still so much damage to work through. Deep inside me, there's still a small girl who was neglected and scorned and abused. I know the *only* way to help her is by moving through the years and reassuring her that it will be okay because it IS okay now.
Life is fleeting. This is what I mean when I say those words. No matter our damage, we make choices to end up wherever it is we are now. No matter how trapped we may feel, we can find the way back to ourselves, if we push hard enough. Every day is a new opportunity to be grateful for the smell of the rain on the air, the sparkling dew on grass blades, the simple, complex prospect of being alive. What a gift. I don't intend to waste it. I've come too far and fought too damn hard to allow myself to stay steeped in wallowing self-doubt and depression. I embrace this next trip around the sun with clarity, an open heart, and a resilience I've earned over many years of hard-won battles. To this year, and many to follow. But especially: to art. <3
Of Earth and Air
Listen: www.youtube.com/watch?v=8VF4P9D1Nuw
Today marks another trip around the sun for me—the end of one means the start of another. I shot this self-portrait with the help of my love, Adric Knight, during a camping trip a few weeks ago up on Mt. Rainier, one of the most beautiful places on the planet. I've been steeped in a deep, omnipresent depression for a few years now, but lately, I can feel myself lifting out of the mire, *finally*. I wanted an image that depicted how it's felt to rise up once more—to feel the kiss of sunlight and the brisk wind and to recognize the beauty in this place.
Life is fleeting, yes, but those words tend to feel empty and redundant. So I'll try to describe how those words hold deeper meaning for me these days than they did five and more years ago...
When I was in my early twenties, I was caught up in a terrible relationship that fed on my very spirit. I wasn't making art. In fact, I'd given up on the idea of ever being an artist—despite having growing up with a pencil and paper in hand for the entirety of my childhood—and resigned myself to simple office work for a state-run company. I was miserable. I had no friends to speak of. I was being dominated in an unhealthy, abusive situation, and I had just enough energy to get myself up in the morning and go to my day job, followed by my evening job, trying to keep up with bills. I put myself through community college, which gave me a spark of hope and began to remind me that deep down, I'm an artist. Still, I persevered in an unhappy marriage and continued to sell myself short by not freeing myself from the entrapments and damage of those closest to me.
Eventually, I got out. Escaping this situation was no small feat. And I do mean escaping. Slowly, over the years, I tended to the wreckage that was my life. It was hard to watch myself starting over again, from the beginning, with a wounded heart and spirit, feeling so incredibly destitute and dealing with the harm that had been caused for years to come (truly, dealing with it even now, all this time later). And yet, the freedom I had gained invigorated and intoxicated me to no end. Just what I needed at the time.
It wasn't until a few years later that I picked up a used camera, on a whim, and began taking photos... Suddenly, I was impassioned. I realized that this camera wasn't just a tool and means of expression—it was a lifeline.
One of my favorite sayings is "The way out is through." The past few weeks, this saying has been ringing in my head as a mantra. Reclaiming myself as an artist and using this means of expression has been my way through. And the journey continues on—there's still so much damage to work through. Deep inside me, there's still a small girl who was neglected and scorned and abused. I know the *only* way to help her is by moving through the years and reassuring her that it will be okay because it IS okay now.
Life is fleeting. This is what I mean when I say those words. No matter our damage, we make choices to end up wherever it is we are now. No matter how trapped we may feel, we can find the way back to ourselves, if we push hard enough. Every day is a new opportunity to be grateful for the smell of the rain on the air, the sparkling dew on grass blades, the simple, complex prospect of being alive. What a gift. I don't intend to waste it. I've come too far and fought too damn hard to allow myself to stay steeped in wallowing self-doubt and depression. I embrace this next trip around the sun with clarity, an open heart, and a resilience I've earned over many years of hard-won battles. To this year, and many to follow. But especially: to art. <3