in her hand

while sorting and packing i found this note in my mom’s handwriting.
i love how she appears this way when i need her most.

when she would take a bubble bath, she’d balance her white wine on the edge of the tub.  as a child i’d hang out with her in the bathroom, never wanting to leave her side.  she’d talk casually to me and sip her wine as the ice clinked against the glass. i was not intruding on her time… i was silent and invisible. i had learned to be that way. i was simply the energy that flowed through the room, only wanting to be near that endless supply of mother love.  water would rise and fall over her breasts with each breath and laugh. this is what i learned by watching. this is what it means to be a mother.

my life scoop

do you ever find yourself wondering how an image is created? what’s the set up? what are the settings? you can get a peek behind the scenes of my photography over at My Life Scoop today. i’m pretty excited to share my first photography article (via Creative Girls Collective and My Life Scoop) … i’m thrilled to be a contributor and couldn’t wait to share the love with you all!

pop on over there and check it out:
5 Settings For More Camera Control

leave me a comment on my article if you feel so inclined. and feel free to pass it along via facebook or twitter too!

gratitude

The Place I Want To Get Back To

is where
in the pinewoods
in the moments between
the darkness

and first light
two deer
came walking down the hill
and when they saw me

they said to each other, okay,
this one is okay,
let’s see who she is
and why she is sitting

on the ground like that,
so quiet, as if
asleep, or in a dream,
but, anyway, harmless;

and so they came
on their slender legs
and gazed upon me
not unlike the way

I go out to the dunes and look
and look and look
into the faces of the flowers;
and then one of them leaned forward

and nuzzled my hand, and what can my life
bring to me that could exceed
that brief moment?
For twenty years

I have gone every day to the same woods,
not waiting, exactly, just lingering.
Such gifts, bestowed,
can’t be repeated.

If you want to talk about this
come to visit. I live in the house
near the corner, which I have named
Gratitude.

- Mary Oliver

maine

you can’t deny the rip tide. the pull, the siren song that draws you in

mom in maine 1960′s :: photo by my dad

“patience, patience, patience, is what the sea teaches.
patience and faith.
one should lie empty, open, choiceless as a beach…
waiting for a gift from the sea.”
- anne morrow lindbergh

solstice

“Summer Solstice is one of the great turning points of the year, when the sun is at its peak and the days abound with the promise of life’s fullness. It is a serenely powerful time in which the beauty of the natural world can infuse our spirit, bring us alive to the present, and perhaps awaken a deeper sense of relatedness to the community of life, to the Earth, and to the cosmos.” – Paul Winter

join me at shutter sisters today, won’t you?
i hope you are enjoying this most beautiful solstice as much as i am!

 

his self, my self, your self

1955 my father’s self portrait

today i am teaching a class on self portraits and truth. this art form i stumbled into years ago for reasons only my heart can share. this art form that holds me kindly in a way that’s hard to explain. why is it that some of us are drawn to study the self? does it make you feel uncomfortable, seen, or loved? or all of the above? i’m curious to hear your thoughts on self portraits. as we lean in closer, we see our own eyes looking back. it is through self portraiture that we learn to look kindly at ourselves.

going coastal

photo by my dad :: 1960′s maine coast jumping girls :: my mom and a friend 

i’m heading out to oregon tomorrow and i’m very excited! spending time teaching on the oregon coast is like a dream come true. i’m looking forward to the gathering of gentle souls at the Your Story Retreat. i do believe we will all walk away with a new story to tell.

i’ll see you all on the flip side of my travels!
xo
meredith

come home

film :: wind rock wyoming :: 1999

the sun goes behind a cloud
i realize that i don’t even know where i am.
there’s that burning feeling in my eyes and nose.
just keep walking.

remember that snowy driveway we had to climb and all the tears i wanted to cry?  the cold winter air burned my lungs. i didn’t cry then because the tears would have frozen to my cheeks. i had to keep going. just like now. this sand feels different. it’s surprisingly not solid and my knees hurt.

up up up.
metal stairs.
spiral claustrophobia.

i’m in one place and then another.
dream space time.
a light house overlooking the rocky coast.
round and round and round we go.
my mother’s spirit and me, all alone.

“just come home” she says.
her voice is comfort wrapped in arms.
dreams replace reality.

goddess trumps bull

my voice of reason shouted at me today,
or rather typed in all caps to remind me of this truth:
“goddess trumps bull.”
she’s good for that, my voice of reason.
because when it’s midnight again and the doubt clouds roll in thick like fog
i find myself in need of reassurance.
i am not crazy.
i am many things … and i am far from perfect, but i am not crazy.

that warrior goddess who rose through river’s birth?
she’s the goddess who trumps bull.
i need to remember that.
that goddess cracked me wide open.
she broke myself free.

i put my back to the sun and begin again
with forward momentum.

in my dreams, i know the truth:
that love always wins.
that positivity begets positivity.
that love begets love.
and goddess trumps bull.

morning ritual

austin :: barton springs

sunshine swim

mermaid waters

swallowed by nature

heart mind body

love

{iphone love :: thursday morning ritual}