forward motion

“I moved on because I had to, because pain gets heavy when you carry it far from its source, like a bucket of water hauled miles from a stream–it acquires a whole new value, which is the sum of itsprimary essence and your secondary investment.”

from Anthropology of an American Girl by Hilary Thayer Hamann

i speak much about transition.  many of my posts on this blog describe change, movement, and new beginnings.  i love this quote from hilary thayer hamann because it explains moving forward in such a beautiful way.  so often i find myself carrying burdens or heartbreak for so long, it almost feels as though there is a separate attachment altogether to the pain.  letting go. moving on. those are things i find hard.  i almost can handle the pain i didn't inflict on myself better than even the question or possible thought of what letting go of it might feel like.  but in this moment and in the moment i read that quote, i felt relief.  we are not meant to carry our burdens for so long and so far away from their sources.  we are supposed to lay them down.  let them lay.  walk away.  leaving with the knowledge and the strength that they gave us.  not forgetting where they came from.  no leaving behind the beauty.  walking tall with a new energy.  embracing the motion forward.  

that is a beauty of life. 

amen. 

we could have had it all.

[i love adele and her voice and her passion.]

somedays i want to be taken seriously. and not be treated like a child.

and then somedays, i just wish i was a child.

in other news, i spoke to an at&t person on the phone for like half an hour while she just repeatedly told me to unplug and re-plug my internet modem. apparently she gets paid to tell people to do that.
sweet gig.
then, today a maintenance guy came out to inform me that while his buddy was trying to fix someone else's internet on the block they just decided to take my line since it appeared to not be in use.
unbeknownst to him, as he continued his story, he was just confirming my understanding that many human beings are stupid and many are not actually good at their jobs. 

 we have all really accepted the motto: fake it til you make it.
or in this case, fake it til some one realizes you're a faker. 

thanks america. 

i've been working on some pretty neat crafts and paintings. can't wait to show you internet friends. 

dear life,

i just want to watch the braves game with my friends.

i miss that.

just so you know.

sincerely, jess

as of late.

(photo of my most recent fortune from the taco stand. very appropriate.)


some thoughts as of late


holidays are an odd combination of stress and joy. family and friends. new and old. love and bitterness. all stirred together in a slew of days with early mornings and late nights. exhausting yet wonderful. but once they're over, i think i'm actually glad that they are. relieved in a sense.


i have found myself with quite a frustration toward photography. i realize it's been going on for about a year now. the way money really affects the ease in which it can be achieved. money affects the means and advances. the way i don't have any money. et cetera.


i believe i have learned the beauty in pain. the beauty in the broken down. the beauty of being able to say "i can't do this anymore." because in that, in the midst of all of that, you are human. you are real. there is an authenticity there that cannot be found many other places. and from there, truth can be found.

we don't need this "put on a pretty face" junk anymore. we don't need to cover ourselves with money, the "hip-factor, fake smiles, fake plastic trees, if you will. we just need to be real. to feel what we feel. to be who we are. and really, it is from that spot of knowing who you are, no matter how much it hurts, is where we can learn what love is. but only from there.

i really believe that.



the end of 2 0 0 eight is coming quickly. as if i fell asleep and let it all go by, it mostly feels foggy, like a dream. this has been my hardest year of my twenty-two. but i think i've become more human. the realness of life can hit you hard, harsh, painfully, yet beautifully and full of grace. this year will be a monument in my scope of life, i do believe.

there is weight to this life.
it is light.
it is heavy.

the deeper we go, the more we are able to feel the difference.


this year's love had better last...

i'm making a mess.

while life takes its sweet little twists and turns, i am still comforted by slight nuances and gems that fall in the most unpredicted places. 

cool summer nights. a cuddly cat. pansies planted by my dad. a good glass of wine, a big sister that pulls through for once. old friends that never change. good books with lines that hold meaning.  basil plants. enjoyable chord progressions. grandmas learning about lip rings. porches. great ideas.

"i can't imagine anything but music that could have brought about this alchemy. maybe it's because music is about as physical as it gets: your essential rhythm is your heartbeat; your essential sound, the breath.  we're walking temples of noise, and when you add tender hearts to this mix, it somehow lets us meet in places we couldn't get to any other way. "

-anne lamott, traveling mercies