It’s 2:50 a.m.
Chance is going nuts, ripping and running around the living room. I just gave him a bath.
Brian Bob is chilling in his room- Brianna- the same. I should be sleeping, or doing homework, but I’ve just downloaded Tex Murphey: Overseer. Gaming is one of my coping mechanisms, much like millions of other people. Until my heart heals, I’ll trudge along the motions of my life- school, cleaning, cooking, sleeping, etc. and slip away into my game as often as possible. I just can’t process any more raw emotion at this time. Tex Murphy is a welcome escape.
I’m torn between another pistachio and almond ice cream cone and Guinness Extra Stout. I have a 6 pack in the fridge and it whispers to me. I keep forgetting to drink one. I decide on lemon and ginger tea with honey instead. I’ve had a migraine for two days now. (Imagine that.) I can’t do this again tomorrow. After two days, my mind starts fracturing into tiny bits of livewire pain- sizzling every nerve until it’s raw and jittery. It does little good to complain other than to serve as a reminder that I’m still suffering. It too is a welcome escape from the pain in my heart.
There’s nothing one can do but ride the wave of heartache after a breakup. One of my x’s is all over me like white on rice- I’m disgusted. He thinks it might be a good time to squeeze back in. I think it’s highly disrespectful and pretty insulting to me. I know people do that- the rebound thing- but if you’re crawling away from the battlefield of one relationship, why would you hop into the trenches of another? That doesn’t make any sense to me, and it’s the furthest thing from my mind. (And heart.) I think I’ll be alone for a very long time. I’m a one man woman, and I think it’s necessary to experience the pain after a breakup. It tells me that the love I knew was real and that’s why it hurts so much. My friends don’t know what to say to comfort me, and that’s ok. There’s only so much another human being can offer in the way of companionship and support. If it weren’t for my love, relationship, and friendship with Jesus- I would absolutely crumble and die. I have no doubt. I’m not enough to keep myself going- I think of Sylvia Plath- and can understand how a broken heart could make her stick her head in an oven and forget to live. She couldn’t bear to lose her man to another woman. But Sylvia Plath said when she was just a child, “I’ll never talk to God again.” And I suppose she didn’t. So, she killed herself. I think she should have talked to God.
That’s where she and I differ. I love life, and as painful as it is to feel your heart being ripped from your chest, I do have a very close relationship with Jesus. We talk, commune, and just have a good time together. When I think about His love, and how He’s able to reach into every tiny place in my heart- I can’t be angry or sad for long. I smile, and know I’m loved. He washes away every awful feeling, and the bitter tears become bittersweet. They eventually become joyful, and I become like a child again, marveling at the beauty of God’s creation: I rise above the pain.
I’ve gone and talked myself right out of my misery again, and feel a half-smile creeping across my face.
Oh heart, you’re going to make it…
A man told me today that my goat belongs in a magazine.
I’ll take that as a compliment. :0)
Trying to focus manually while your target is moving constantly isn’t an easy task. But I love the way manual shooting paints dreamy bohek (heavy blurring) into the frame, such as the fence seen in the foreground. All-manual focussing and exposure (shutter speed/aperture/ISO/WB, etc.) has a certain quality and look to it that’s not easily replicated. I mean, it can be, but then it has the shopped look to it. (Photoshopped.) I’m hopelessly in love still with monochromatic images and especially with shooting IN monochrome.
Colour’s alright too. But nothing makes me as happy as shooting in black and white- all manual- using only natural lighting. My itch has been scratched.
Back to schoolwork…
Squire Boone Caverns
Squire Boone Caverns
50 MM/manual/shot in monochrome
Chance sits by the window every day, waiting and watching. He doesn’t know that Daddy isn’t coming back. It’s heartbreaking to see. I have to push myself to be bouncy and happy around him because animals are even more sensitive than people sometimes. I feel like an elephant is sitting on my chest, and I also remind myself to be aware of diaphragmatic breathing so my heart doesn’t collapse. But isn’t this how breakups go?
I would have given “Doggy Daddy” total visitation rights! Even overnight. But Doggy Daddy hasn’t asked about his baby.
Apart from the $2,500 that Doggy Daddy owes me, I suppose the thing that pisses me off the most is the damage that man has done to my skin. There’s nothing worse for the complexion than a bad man.
I study my face: I see the wound in my eyes. It won’t last forever.
On the brighter side of things, I’ve been contacted by a reporter (editor) of the newspaper (yes, actual paper paper- those things are still around!) to be interviewed next week. He wants to set me up with one of his reporters to run a featured story on me. I took two days to think it over, and then agreed. Really, what makes me the happiest is knowing that I’m to be featured not because I’m an “artist” or “photographer”- but because they find it interesting that I have been homeless so many times and yet I devote my life and time to others, especially in the area of charity. And I don’t mean “writing a check, dahhhling”. I mean going out and finding homeless people, buying them groceries, and giving what little money I have away. I wish I could do more, but my monetary resources are shy. That doesn’t limit me in the slightest though. Just sets me back.
School is absolutely draining me, and I keep telling myself to just make it through this semester (in-between tragedies) and I’ll be able to take the summer off. Push push push! I can hardly believe I got a perfect score on my Health Psychology assignment several days ago: 50 out of possible 50 points. And that particular professor is not easy to please! She is a no-nonsense, matter-of-fact instructor, but honestly, that’s my favourite kind. I learn from them the most. Regardless, the assignment took days to finish (many hours) and was 12 pages long, perhaps? That was after filling out a 45-50 page questionnaire and summarizing the results.
I’m off to drag myself to the couch. All I want in this world right now is cheesecake, an episode of the Golden Girls (go Dorothy!) , and my dog.
“I am not origami,” he said.
But when the shadow danced before him, he folded himself noisily and quickly went to work.
“Don’t ever be afraid to look inside of yourself and see who you are.”
“You have to walk through your past; through the wreckage, and survey the damage.”
-Candy Finnigan, Interventionist (quoted from the tv show: “Intervention”)
“Don’t ever be too proud to cry and say you’re sorry.”
-Mormon preacher who married me years ago.
(God forbid I should marry a Mormon and share myself with 10 other women, um…NO. I mean, the Mormon preacher who married myself and my x husband. I’m no Mormon, but I’m not prejudiced either. I was down with it.)
“You have to hug the monster. Embrace the pain that rips you up. Hug it. Befriend it. Thank it. It’s only a “bad situation” if you believe it is. Turn it around.”
“You have to take the bad and make it good. Shape it, remold it, take the old and make it new.”
-my Pastor (and dear friend, told to me once in a dream)
“Tears keep the heart soft.”
There are literally hundreds of tutorials out there that instruct future photogs on “good photography”; how to improve your photographic techniques, how to take slamming pics, process them successfully, etc. but there are few, if any, “bad photography” lessons out there for the masses who actually like the trout pout and the Myspace arm. (Go on, Google it. I’ll wait!) If you are inclined to take pics of yourself late into the night, twisting your mouth to and fro into hundreds of positions (but still, strikingly the same) as if you are truly surprised –we believe you (it’s cute!) – then this post is for you, and I am here to help.
Notice the processing. My skin is like- all yellow and cool looking. It’s called “cross processing”, and really, it’s a fad that’s here to stay. Very popular with Instagram and other quickie programs. (And who doesn’t love Instagram?) If you haven’t done cross processing, well, you haven’t really lived yet.
Also, notice my skin. It’s like melted cheese. This is what you want! There’s a nifty little tool called the “skin smoothener”. If you use it just a little bit, it makes it look “real” (we don’t want that) so hit it up a few more times. Like, 4 more. Ok. You’ll know when you have it right because it starts looking glisteny- like Vaseline. (That’s what you’re after.) If it looks like a slice of cheese- not good! If it looks like a slice of cheese that’s been in the sun after three hours? Bingo. You are doing it!
K. Let’s move on.
See the expression in my eyes? Believe it or not, that took like…forty shots to get it right. The look you’ll want to try and capture should be something like this:
(That’s Naidu. My deer friend who lives in the park.)
Just the face. (And especially the eyes.) Try to look surprised, but kind of like, “Oh. I didn’t know that camera was at the end of my hand. Are you serious?!!”
Let’s keep moving.
Notice the mouth. This suggests that you are in fact, surprised that you’re on camera, but yet mega- in charge of everything in your life. Like you’re saying, “I got this- oh I got this.” It’s alright if you give a little head pop when you click the shutter (or snap the button). It actually helps to emphasize the trout pout, which is extremely important. You do not want to be out-trouted by your Facebook friends…no no no. No no.
Lastly, we have what I have coined the “Myspace Arm”, years ago. The Myspace Arm was a pioneer in its own right. Anybody and everybody who had Myspace (back in the day) absolutely lived by it. Although Facebook has quietly taken the crown of Myspace, the Myspace arm is practically mandatory for all social networking platforms. (Let’s give credit where credit is due, huh?) Well done, Myspace!
There are hundreds of bad photography tips I could impart unto you, but this pretty much sums up the most important ones that you’ll need to learn, if you want to be “up to snuff” in the “bad photo-selfie genre”. (And let’s face it, we all have bad selfies. We just don’t all post them.)
If you’re going to do it, do it up right.
She said, “Yes.”
Based on a true story.
Van Gogh inspired.
From the dark and stormy seas
That try to keep
From fighting the good fight
The good fight
Fight the good fight of faith, lay hold on eternal life, whereunto thou art also called, and hast professed a good profession before many witnesses. 1 timothy 6:12
No doubt this post will be peppered with semi-cliche and trite diatribe (but maybe not).
I’ll spare the other party further humiliation (and anger) who I’m no longer with. Seven years is a long time to love somebody with your whole heart, especially if it’s a one-way street. Alas, at some point or another, I have to wake myself up and say, “Save yourself.”
So today is the second day of a new life for me.
I could look at this picture as if it were broken and shattered. But I choose to look at it like life is suddenly brand new, and full of possibilities!
Broken? A bit.
But always forgiving and open to change.
I will always believe life is what you make it; not “what is thrown at you”.
In a weird way, I’m ecstatic. I’m sure there will be more tears. I’m not invincible.
But, I’m content, and still in love with life.