1. This is a short film that I made with my friend, Bryan Taylor.

    The song is Frysta, by Olafur Arnalds.  The words were written by me.


    Also, you should visit Bryan’s tumblr.  He takes some really great photos:  bleetaylor 

     
     

  2. My grandmother was such a beauty.

     


  3. The goal of your life is not to avoid pain or attempt to prevent it.  It is to learn how to feel it fully and completely, and still be able to say and know “I’m ok.”

    In order to do that, we have to define what pain is and why it is painful.  Whether someone is mindlessly criticizing us, mistakenly putting blame on us, intentionally hurting us, or monumentally betraying us … the pain of all of these situations is rooted in the same thing:  The fear that we are not worthy of love.

    This idea has been communicated to each and every one of us… many times and by many different people.  Our parents disappoint us, criticize us, punish us, belittle us, abuse us, etc; Our friends betray us, ignore us, abandon us, fail us, etc; and our significant others are ugly to us, lie to us, manipulate us and hurt us.  And, while they have their own personal reasons for doing such things, we have to understand that our reaction to them is our own … and that it, very rarely, has anything to do with their reason for doing it.

    There are always two conversations happening when someone wrongs us:  1.  About the actual wrongness of what that person has done, and  
    2.  About what it means to you.  

    The reason that a complete stranger has the ability to hurt us is because, in a very subconscious way, their actions validate our internal fear that we are not worthy of love.  More simply put, we believe them.  However quiet that belief may be, there is a part of us that fears that what this person is saying about us, whether in word or action, is a true depiction of our worth (or worthlessness).  When we feel that pang of sadness (or anger), whether it’s for a moment or it sits with us, what we are really feeling is fear.  ”This person would not treat me this way if I were deserving of love.  That must mean that I’m not.”

    It may feel silly to think about things this way.  We don’t like to acknowledge that we do, no matter how subconsciously it may be, because, ultimately, it IS silly.  We are deserving of love, despite how other people treat us.  But, from a very young age, we are taught that love is a good thing that you either receive or don’t receive and, because of that, we began to equate our lack or gains with whether or not we deserved it.

    Feeling unworthy of love is the basis of human ugliness.  It’s what causes us to abuse power, wealth and control.  It’s what causes us to be mean, selfish or cold.  And it’s what causes us to fear or abuse the very thing that we need most in our lives:  human connection.  But once we understand the places in our life where we are believing or fearing that we don’t deserve love, we are able to address them and remind ourselves of what’s true, and live a life where our desires are no longer based in need … and where our fears are no longer based on a lie.

    Pain will always be in our life.  We will always be susceptible to broken hearts, hurt feelings and moments of devastation because it does hurt when someone wrongs us, it does hurt when we lose a person we love and it does hurt when a relationship ends.  But.  When we live our lives in fear of these moments, to the point that we run from them or avoid them all-together, we are in fact affirming to ourselves that we are not deserving of love.  (When we avoid change or trying something new, it’s because there is a part of us that’s saying, “I can’t do that.”)  But, when we stop to remember that we are and when we insist on believing it, we begin to press into the people and places that we once were afraid of, because we know that, should it hurt us down the line, we will be ok because nothing can threaten our definitive worth.

    We can’t be afraid to hurt because that means we are afraid to live.  Life is too beautiful to be feared and we are too strong to be hiding from it.  You will be ok.  You will be hurt, you will be wronged, you may be betrayed, you may be abandoned … but, you will be ok.  Feeling pain is hard, but it should never be the end of you.  And it should never be a reason to miss out on the most beautiful parts of life.  This means that, when it arises, accept it.  Feel it.  Hurt, cry, mourn, question, and cry some more.  To avoid feeling your pain, is to believe that you can not handle it.  But you can, because you know that, ultimately, it is a pain that will only last for a time and that, the strength that does reside in you, will be what allows you to endure and recover.

    Pain is important.  It gives us the opportunity to analyze ourselves and to understand what hurts us and, more importantly, why it hurts us.  Pay attention to your triggers.  Pay attention to what hurts you and, when it does, begin the work of whittling it down to it’s inevitable place in fear.  What were you afraid of when that person insulted you?  When that person left you?  When they told you they didn’t love you anymore or that you weren’t enough?  Usually, our fear is that we believe they are right.  If someone came to you and said, “Your hair is brown”, when really it’s blonde … you would, at best, be amused and at worst, be unaffected.  But when someone comes to you and says, “I don’t love you,” it hurts us because we believe that we are not worthy of love … even though that statement is just as ridiculous and false, as a mis-categorization of hair color.

    So, if you haven’t been, begin pushing into life and, more importantly, into people.  And if you have been, and pain has resulted, don’t let it define your future or what you know to be true, which is that you are as perfect as you should be and that, if someone doesn’t see or think that, it has nothing to do with the independently existent fact that you are.

    Your worth is inherent, not deserved or worked for.

     


  4. We’re living in a home that we built for ourselves— nails still on the ground because we quit too soon.  And now there’s cold air blowing through the rooms, and not enough paint to make the walls seem warmer.  But it’s all we have because we’ll never finish what we started.  And we’ll raise our children in a place of hazard— and they will never know what it’s like to be protected.  

    But, I can’t help but wonder, if we might be safer starting over.  And if, instead of using tools and methods, we focus more on the needs of our loved ones.  

    If what we want is a place to live safely, then we must learn to love correctly.  Otherwise, everything our hands attempt to build, will mimic the deficiencies of a heart that’s unfulfilled.  

    Love is the perfecter and the safest thing to dwell in.

     


  5. There is a woman on the horizon—  a woman rising.  The bones in her chest, branching, like the spread of leaves across empty skylines.  And the light of the sun has found love in the scope of her skin, though it be weak and in need of regeneration— a burst of something calm and the burning off, of all the things that made her feel so small.  

    But a woman is a growing thing… one that doesn’t stop.  And though she may falter, her years of growth will bring shade to those sun-burned places.  And in her old age, she will no longer seek to shelter those who need it, but to be a place of rest, for the ones who have already been regenerated.

    Love is where you sleep when you no longer need to.

     


  6. I’ve woken up before in a bed that wasn’t mine, against the skin of someone I loved, but had never been loved by.  And I’ve had dreams in those early mornings that only ever made me question my decisions— made me wonder what it was that I was so sorely missing.  The mind is really honest when you’re too tired to fight it and all of the excuses you’ve made… the stories you’ve told and desperately believed… become the very things that cultivate anxiety.  

    Bodies are meant for holding, but only if they want to be.  And, if we’re alone in our readiness, then it’s best we sleep in our own beds.


     


  7. She wanted to use his full name— all of the syllables and sounds that fused together to create his banner.  And she wanted her breath to be wrapped around it because it was the only embrace that they would ever encounter.  Their time was limited and with little allowances and, waiting beneath the electricity of their attraction, was the knotted up reality of what they knew could never happen.

     


  8. can’t quit the weeknd.

     


  9. We met in the dark
    across a long stretch
    of talkers,
    and in plain sight
    of all the others.
    We were a show—
    the kind of performance
    that begs to be known.
    A bright light on display
    in the company of our own.


    It was a fine hour in the glow of hope.

     


  10. I’ve galavanted across this sea, long enough to know that I’ve been alone in my journey. And so now I’ve built my home along it— on dry land, in hopes that it will venture forward. It’s been a long time since the gaze has been on me … a long time of me gazing at that restless, running sea. But if I believe it to be knowing— if I’ve known the kind of fight that accompanies devotion — then I know, some day soon, I will be the refuge for that restless ocean.

     


  11. I love the light at this time— coral tones painted across windows, like the blush of a peach in spring.  And I’m lucky to see it so regularly, at the end of every day and even sometimes in the mornings.  But no matter the frequency of beauty, I must always strive to see it newly, because our nature is to grow tired of what we know … to forget that life is, in fact, not slow.  

    I wondered yesterday, that if my days were numbered and proclaimed, would I cling to things more desperately?  Would I plunge into everything and bathe myself in bravery?  Would I revere my mortality and understand what it means to lose something suddenly?  

    It is our most terrible achievement—  to have love and then leave it.

     


  12. My father visited my dreams 
    to remind me what he thinks of me.
    And I woke up remembering
    what it is that I am worth
    and who it is
    that deserves me.

     

  13. Bravery in a Blue Hole, 2014

     


  14. I found a sick bird on a sidewalk and I took him home to make him better.  He had some missing feathers and it seemed as though he’d been mistreated.  His wings weren’t working and he was much too weak to attempt walking.  I knew that he was scared of me so I spoke to him very gently.  I promised he would be ok and that I would always keep him safe.

    Days went by and he slept by my side, in a tiny little bed that I had built for him.  I fed him tiny seeds and other things that tiny birds eat, until he was finally able to stand on his feet.  And when he began to trust me, I bandaged up his little wings, until they were finally free of injury.  

    But once he was healthy, I wondered if the bird I loved would stay… or, if the only reason he let me help him, was so he’d be able to fly away.



     

  15.