know by heart

the time has come, the walrus said..

2011-01-24T18:22:00.000-08:00

So, I think it might be time to lay this blog to rest. I recently started a new blog found here: domakesaythink. It is supposed to be a place to blog solely about my crafting ventures but I think instead of making it just crafting I'm going to merge it with this blog and make it a little of both. Keeping up with one blog is hard enough, much less TWO! Anyway, if you are a reader here (if I even have any left!) please follow me to domakesaythink and follow that blog instead. And I promise to update a bit more often. Maybe. :)

2011-01-19T19:23:00.000-08:00

Turns out the beach in January isn't such a good idea. Unless you are coming from negative degree weather like most of the tourists who were there. As for my thin Florida blood, 61 degrees is about 10 degrees too cold for a bathing suit. Maren had fun, though. Isn't that what really matters?

i'll be a mama, i'll have a daughter

2010-09-10T06:36:00.000-07:00

My sweet Maren. How do I love her? Let me count the ways!

I love her long, long lashes. (I also envy them.)

I love her chubby little cheeks.

I love the curls at the nape of her neck.

I love her tiny little seashell ears.

I love her fat little fingers.

I love every single one of her rolls.

I love her furrowed brow.

I love her pretty face.

And her bright smile.

Moses loves her, too.

She loves him back.

I'm a happy mama.

newsies

2010-08-22T13:40:00.001-07:00

I've created a blog devoted to crafting, or at least my attempts at it. Check it, yo!

PRINTS!

2010-08-14T18:41:00.000-07:00

I'm selling a few prints of my photos to help raise money for my friend Carly's hospital bills. She was involved in an awful four-wheeling accident on August 10th and will likely need medical care for the next year or so, if not longer. Click the picture above to check out my shop! All proceeds for directly to Carly and her family. To find out more about her story and updates on her progress click here.

a little bit, sometimes

2010-08-07T07:29:00.000-07:00

I was thinking about how funny (see: depressing) it is that when I received my first cell phone at the tender age of 18 I absolutely hated it. Wanted nothing to do with it. The idea of anyone calling me at anytime wherever I was appalled me and it was with much chagrin that I carried it with me, at my mother's insistence. Now, 7 years (and many cell phones) later, I feel like I'm missing something if I walk into another room without holding it. What if someone texts me? What if I miss a call? These thoughts go through my head now. Weird how that works. I love and hate my cell phone, both for the wonderful convenience of it and my utter dependence. One of my favorite things about it, though, is the pictures I can snap with it:

But that in itself bums me out because regardless of what great candid moments I am able to capture they are still just low-quality cell phone pictures. Technology is a double-edged sword.

I've noticed this about myself lately: my growing discontent is due in large part to my internet use. Everyday I browse the blogs, websites and Facebook profiles of people I know and don't know, looking at the pictures of the places they go, the things they have and the things they do and I am, on a daily basis, struck with how boring my life seems in comparison. I hate that I feel I need to display a seemingly interesting life on the internet for the world to see in order to validate my existence. I toyed with the idea of taking a hiatus from computers entirely but then I realized it wasn't my use of the internet that needed to change, per say, but my attitude. I have a lot to be thankful for and I know this is true. I don't take it for granted (most of the time.) But there is a large part of me that remains unhappy with my humdrum day to day and this is the part of me that needs adjusting. Majorly. I've always wanted to do and see a million things at the same time. I'm trying to get used to the idea that even though I don't think it's fair we only get this one life to live, I am where I am for a reason. God has me here, at home, with my baby. There is a lot I could be doing with my time that I don't and that is no one's fault but my own. I might not be out everyday taking amazing pictures of breathtaking scenery, hopping on trains and traveling across country, I might not be the most prolific seamstress or knitter or gardener or painter or cook. I might not even have anything worthy of blogging about here, on the web, for everyone to see and be interested in. But this is my life and what I make of it is ultimately up to me.

I have a feeling once this suppressive summer heat lets up (if ever) I will feel a bit more inspired, less lethargic and boring. In the meantime I think I'm going to start a journal of gratitude and get my head and heart in the right place.

as hot as it was you ought to thank me

2010-07-28T17:33:00.000-07:00

We had a yard cat. It was like a yard dog, only it was a cat that couldn't come in our house or any house, just roamed the sandspur yard, all hot day and all hot night, looking for a dark spot in the world that might be cool, like dark meant cool, but it never did, not even under the car, or under the chinaberry tree, or under the house by the dripping faucet, or under the cement steps that led up to the porch. Not even the nights with the icy-looking stars sprinkled overhead were cool, because cool was only a thing we dreamed, all of us, something we heard about once or read about someplace and decided to believe in. It was such a fine thing to believe. Better than heaven. Like standing in the open refrigerator door, feeling that one second of crisp air until the kitchen heat got it, until Mother yelled, "Close that door. You're letting all the cold out."
That kind of believing.

-Nanci Kincaid

shake the secrets from my deepest bones

2010-07-23T17:53:00.000-07:00

It's a strange thing to grow older & even stranger to watch your siblings grow old as well. These are the people you've spent the most important years of your life with. The ones who have been there as long as you can remember, a fact you take for granted, maybe. I think of the life my little brother leads now and all I remember is who he was to me growing up. We are the closest in age of any of my siblings, a little more than a year between us, and I remember when I was younger I used to think to myself, "We are basically twins." Now he is a Grown-Up, an Adult, someone with a life of his own and to many people he is only the artist, Justin Nelson, they know his drawings and his biography and they think they that is all they need to know. There is a celebrity in Hollywood (maybe a b-lister at best, but what's the difference?) and he knows his name and appreciates his work. MY little brother. For me, this is hard to fathom. In my head we are still children, sitting on his bedroom floor at the same time every afternoon to watch Dragon Ball Z. We tape it and pause it on our favorite scenes so we can draw them. He was always better but I had a decent hand myself. Or we are younger, still, building houses out of a mountain of legos dumped from a large plastic bin, mine complete with flowers and trees in the front yard, his a double-decker two story monstrosity--he always found the good pieces first. It's strange for me to imagine this other life he leads now, away from me. The same with all my brothers and sisters.
My sisters, my best friends, my other halves...we used to say our prayers together before bed every night, three little girls in a tiny bedroom. We had our nighttime rituals that must always be completed before any casual conversation could take place. We never went to sleep without saying good-night, I love you, sweet dreams. And this evening as I watched my older sister brush her daughter's teeny baby teeth I remembered brushing the teeth of the two youngest in the family, the way they would bite and suck on the toothbrush, I swear I could feel the tug of it in my hand right then and there. It feels like it happened so fast. For so long we had only each other and now we all live under separate roofs. The same city, but still.

I think I have a hard time letting the past be the past. I am 26 this year and I think when did that happen? You mean I'm not 16 anymore? 12? 8? The memories of my childhood are so sharp and clear in my head I feel like there is no possible way that much time has passed. No way do I have a husband and a house and a daughter who will one day in the very near future have siblings of her own. There is no possible way I am now the mother figure, the parent, the boss. When did I grow up? When did we all grow up? I am beyond thankful and feel so blessed to have such a close relationship with my siblings. I know how rare that is and I try not to take it for granted. One day I will have my own little brood whose relationships I will be in charge of encouraging and fostering--my only prayer and plea is that they will know the friendship and love I have known with my own brothers and sisters. There is always the nagging doubt in the back of my head: What if they hate each other? What if they don't care? What if I completely fail at this parenting thing entirely? And I think of my own parents and I try to take note of the way they dealt with the seven of us. Truth be told, if I could copy and paste my own childhood on to those of my children I would be happy. But I know for all the lovely memories I have of growing up there are still more to come, I'm not dead yet. This is just a new page, a new chapter, and even though it's scary to sit down and realize such a big change in the path that is my life I know it's only normal, natural, the way things go. Time moves on and on and on. I just have to keep up.

the closest color to flight

2010-07-21T14:04:00.000-07:00

Evening comes bringing all things
which the bright dawn has scattered.
You bring the lamb, you bring the goat
you bring the child to its mother.
--Sappho

dream&awake

2010-06-11T07:34:00.000-07:00

These pictures make me think of everything that is good about summer.

Check out her other photos here.

call me outside

2010-05-27T18:58:00.000-07:00

I am so in love with these photos by Sasha Nikitin .
& I really need to take more pictures. Or maybe just develop the pictures I've already taken?

like nothern summer

2010-05-18T12:05:00.000-07:00

Once I had a child,
she was smiling like sunshine.
She could see it all,
like she'd been here before.

margaret durow

2010-05-12T13:06:00.000-07:00

love this, love her.

2010-05-11T07:45:00.000-07:00

ANGELA, CAN WE PLEASE FINISH THIS ALREADY

2010-04-19T06:54:00.000-07:00

I'd rather be...

2010-03-09T06:26:00.000-08:00

I can't decide which of these I relate to more.

from AshleyG on Etsy.

babies do such nice things, they rock on your knee

2010-02-25T08:45:00.000-08:00

What does being a new mom mean to me? This question has been in my head the last few weeks and I'm still figuring out the best way to answer it. As a new mother I've learned a thing or two about motherhood in the last 4 months. A crash course, if you will. Growing up as the 3rd oldest of seven and pretty much always being around small children I thought being a mom would be a piece of cake. I knew what to do, I knew how to do it. I'd changed my share of diapers, cleaned up messes, carted babies on my hip, pushed them in strollers, calmed hysterical crying, fed and changed and bathed them. Basically I had been watching babies, toddlers and kids from the time I was a kid! I've got this, I thought. No problem. Not even nervous about it. The idea of being in labor scared me more than what would come after.

Then Maren was born. Talk about a wake up call! So far the labor has been the easiest part. I wasn't prepared for that first night home and the subsequential meltdown when my sweet little angel baby could not figure out how to nurse. There was a late night phone call to my mother, followed by a late night visit from said mother and many, many tears from both baby and I. Staring in the red, screaming face of my child who was hungry for something I couldn't figure out how to give her showed me what I had not even paused to let myself think: I am not prepared for this. Eventually, a few fumbling, bumbling and slightly painful weeks later Maren got the hang of nursing and I got the hang of feeding her.
Another thing I wasn't prepared for were the flood of emotions that overwhelmed me. And not the happy, teary "I can't believe she's mine!" kind. More like the dark, depressing "This is really my life now" kind. Taking care of a newborn is overwhelming, stressful, and ridiculously difficult. My thoughts were plagued with all the things I wouldn't be able to do anymore (or, at least, for a long time) and for some reason the idea of it was extremely upsetting and depressing to me. I may have hidden this well from family and friends but I know I didn't hide it from my husband! It was not a fun time for me and I'm grateful it only lasted a month or so. One thing that never even bothered to enter my mind while I was pregnant was the possibility of feeling that way afterwards. I wouldn't go so far as to diagnose myself with post-partum depression but it was definitely somewhere near it. Looking back it seems silly that I ever felt like that but I know a lot of new moms experience this in the worst way and I'm ever thankful to the Lord for not being one of them!

Now, four months later, I have come up with a few ideas of what being a new mother means to me. One of those ideas is being okay with a lot of things. For example, pulling out a handful of hair from my head every time I take a shower--and being okay with it. Not fitting into my old clothes--and being okay with it (still working on that one!) Letting the dishes sit in the sink a bit longer than they should--and being okay with it. I've learned that it's also okay to go to bed early and wake up early, not leave the house for days, or tiptoe around a sleeping baby in the swing. For that last one, it's equally as okay to make a little noise around sleeping baby (much to my chagrin most of the time.) The baby spits up/pees/poops on you? It's OKAY.
Being a new mother means putting down that cute leather purse and picking up the diaper bag because it becomes very clear very quickly that lugging two huge bags around the mall/grocery store/Target is not a good idea. At this point you might as well invest in a cute wallet because that's all you'll be taking with you anyway. It means forgoing the jewelry and sliding a pacifier onto your finger instead so you don't drop it on the ground. It means planning your days around feedings, nap-times and bedtime. Being a mother means stepping up to the plate and being responsible in a way you never imagined before. It's hard at first to adjust to this when you still feel like you were 18 years old yesterday. But when my baby was born there was suddenly someone in my life who was more important to me than ME. That self-indulgent, immature young woman was gone (mostly, anyway) and a new grown-up, selfless and responsible woman was replacing her. Being a new mom isn't just holding a baby in your arms, it's becoming a new PERSON all around. You think thoughts you've never thought before, you do things you never thought you'd do. You are late for meals so your baby can eat first, you do her laundry, riddled with spit up and poop stains, while yours sits in the bathroom hamper for a week. Shopping takes on a whole new meaning when you have a baby girl. Suddenly I'm spending more money on clothes for my baby than myself! And I'm okay with that.

Suffice it to say, being a mother has its ups and downs (understatement of the year!) But the ups are so numerous and joyful that they completely and utterly outweigh the downs. With a baby who is newly 4 months old I know that I have a lot more to learn and experience about being a mom. And I absolutely cannot wait for the months and years (and siblings!) to come. I go to bed every night wondering how in the world God saw fit to give me so much. I try not to think about it being taken away. For all you new and expecting mommies out there: you are in my thoughts and prayers! This really is the best time of your life. Pull out that camera and don't take any day for granted. Time really does go so fast.

summer is the champion

2010-02-12T07:22:00.001-08:00

It's been cold and rainy and gray outside lately. While I don't mind the cold so much, the gray sky and rain is starting to get to me. I love this picture, it reminds me of spring or summer or something warm and sunny, whatever season that is in Florida. I'm ready to break out the shorts and sandals but don't think I'm complaining of the cold! I asked for it just as much as anyone else.

Another thing that brightens up my colorless days? Laura Veirs' new record, July Flame. Get two free tracks here . Nothing like Laura's sweet voice to put me in a brighter mood. I think I know it by heart already. Listen, love, be warmed!

have i gone up in smoke

2010-02-09T16:49:00.000-08:00

A few forgotten polaroids from a trip to Colorado with my good friend Beulah.
Taken by Beulah, of course.

you are what you love

2010-02-06T06:54:00.000-08:00

Maren has a new talent. She enjoys spitting. While spitting usually disgusts me in ways little else does (saliva...so gross) something about my baby pursing her little lips and making spit bubbles is infinitely endearing and amusing every time I see it. She's getting so big I don't know what to do with myself.

ampersand

2010-02-02T17:03:00.000-08:00

There is a light that never goes out.

mythologies

2010-01-27T16:28:00.000-08:00

forest creek, wolf choir

If I could I would make you a raging river, with angry rapids, supplied with rain, so you could always meander and forever be able to run away...without contending with myths wrongly interpreted. With pain.

i like where i live.

2010-01-25T18:51:00.000-08:00

some time

2010-01-20T07:22:00.000-08:00

Last night, my darling, as you slept,
I thought I heard you sigh,
And to your little crib I crept,
And watched a space thereby;
And then I stooped and kissed your brow,
For oh! I love you so--
You are too young to know it now,
But some time you shall know!

Some time when, in a darkened place
Where others come to weep,
Your eyes shall look upon a face
Calm in eternal sleep,
The voiceless lips, the wrinkled brow,
The patient smile shall show--
You are too young to know it now,
But some time you may know!

Look backward, then, into the years,
And see me here to-night--
See, O my darling! how my tears
Are falling as I write;
And feel once more upon your brow
The kiss of long ago--
You are too young to know it now,
But some time you shall know.

Eugene Field

NOTE: I know I've used that picture on a previous post but it just matched this poem so perfectly.

she's mine, that's right

2010-01-13T16:37:00.000-08:00

two.five months

2009-12-28T13:56:00.000-08:00

it goes & it goes,
she grows and grows.

Maren,

2009-12-06T19:33:00.000-08:00

This morning at church I left you in the nursery for the first time. You are 7 weeks old today. You were good up until halfway through the service when one of the ladies came to get me. You were screaming your little head off and they couldn't do anything to console you. Michelle placed you in my arms and what did you do? You stopped crying. Instantly. It seems like one of those things people take for granted: a child is crying, give it to its mother to make it stop. But still it caught me off guard and I haven't been able to get it out of my head all day. The way you immediately quieted, your little red face returning to its normal color, your head buried in my neck as you caught your breath, your cries subsiding. I held you close to me and whispered soothing words that meant nothing but you didn't care what I said, so long as you heard my voice and felt my touch. Me. You needed ME. I had the power to calm and quiet you, I had the means to bring you from all out screaming to soft, stuttering sighs. There was a lump in my throat as I sat down in the rocker and you looked up at me with those big blue eyes and slowly faded into sleep. You were mine and I was yours and that is all you want, that is all you need. And I wonder about the years to come, about how you will inevitably grow up and away from me. I wonder if I will still hold that power over you, if my face is the only one you will want to see when the world feels like it is crashing down around you, if even when you are a grown woman of your own you will still seek me for comfort and consolation. Will I still be the only one who can dry your eyes? As I write this I'm fighting back my own tears, imagining the day you might not need me anymore, not like you do now. And I think today was the day it all became real to me, today was the day you went from being this baby, this stranger that I was still getting to know, to my own darling daughter, my baby girl, a real live part of me, flesh of my flesh, bone of my bone. Whether you are 7 weeks or 17 I hope you always know that I will be here for you, no matter what. Always.

kiss the violets as they're waking up

2009-12-04T14:02:00.000-08:00

So, my little pea will be 7 weeks old this Sunday and it's hard to believe that much time has really passed. It went by fast and slow at the same time, which always confuses me. It's been hard without Tim here to help me, but having so much family around has lightened the load considerably. Especially my live-in nanny, Angela, also known as my sister whom I am so very thankful for! Maren has gotten so big so quickly and I really look forward to her growing bigger still. At the moment she mostly communicates by screaming at me but I do get some good smiles and baby-talk when she wakes me up in the morning. It's been an exhausting and fairly difficult seven weeks but I know this stage is only temporary.
Every day we are getting closer and closer to figuring each other out.

sugar and spice

2009-11-02T18:41:00.000-08:00

Happy 2 weeks, baby girl! Maybe in a couple more you will actually fit into your pjs.

i and love and you

2009-10-26T19:13:00.000-07:00

One day I had a baby and I fell in love. She is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my life.

fire escapes

2009-10-10T17:52:00.000-07:00

Words can not describe how much I love these pictures by Sarah Hermans.
Why did I not take them? And more importantly, why do I not own that red cloak??

See more of her beautiful work here.

beneath your tree

2009-10-05T10:23:00.000-07:00

Finally, after much cleaning, rearranging, agonizing, and misplaced holes in the walls, I have managed to finish Maren's nursery. Of course, finished is a relative term. It might never actually be finished . Suffice it to say, for the time being it is ready. Ready for a sweet baby girl to fill it with life and love and all that fun stuff. Right now it's just a room with four walls and some pretty things in it. In a few weeks (and in the months to come) it will take on a whole new life and feel that I can't even begin to imagine (although I like to think I can.)

Daughter dear, we're ready to see you now. Please don't make me wait much longer!

let your love grow tall

2009-09-28T10:30:00.000-07:00

I love these pictures by an old internet friend, Amalia .
They make me want cooler weather, expired polaroid film and a photo shoot with my sisters!

yes darling

keyholder in color

photographer and model

sometimes i think of something

2009-09-27T08:07:00.000-07:00

She was somewhere she wasn't supposed to be. Everyone told her it was a bad idea, everyone told her not to go. And in her clear headed, rational mind (which was somewhere else at the moment, looking down at her from above, maybe, far away and useless) she knew they were right. But it was as if an unseen force were guiding her along, placing one leg in front of the other, helping her into her car, wrapping her hands around the wheel and pressing her foot down on the gas. Break and gas and break and gas and turn, turn, turn, she kept turning until there she was and somewhere in the back of her mind she couldn't remember how she got there.
Sitting in her car in front of the house it crossed her mind that maybe he wasn't there, maybe he hadn't been there for a long time. Maybe he had moved into another house, maybe back home, or maybe he had been kicked out and now lived under the 92nd street bridge. She was sure she could find that bridge if she had to. And she knew if she tried to drive to his parent's house, she was almost certain she could figure her way back there, almost certain the streets and avenues would turn into something familiar and she would instantly know where to go. What if no one was home at all? She hadn't considered this. Hadn't thought of what she might do if no one answered and there she was, standing on his doorstep, helpless and alone, arms hanging uselessly at her sides.
Of course, there were cars in the driveway. None of which were his, but then, maybe it had broken down, they were always doing that. He never had a reliable car, not as long she'd known him. It was one of those things that at the time was unacceptable and annoying but when looked back on in a different, more nostalgic light, was quirky and endearing. There were a lot of things like that.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the window pane. Thought of Eliot and a life measured out in coffee spoons. Thought of dreams about swimming pools and rooftops and old songs she probably shouldn't listen to but still did once in awhile, when the mood struck her. When she wanted to feel sad. Her mind went many places as she stared at the house. The curtained windows pulled tight against the daylight, the ashtrays on the window sill, filled to overflowing with cigarette butts and trash. A bicycle propped up against the porch steps haphazardly. The lawn was overgrown with weeds and for some reason that made her sad.
She was somewhere she wasn't supposed to be. And as her rational mind slowly floated down from above and settled lazily into its rightful place in her head she knew what she had to do. She turned the key in the ignition, fired up the engine, glanced in her rearview mirror and slowly pulled away from the curb. There was nothing left for her there, at that place. There was no peace of mind or joyful reunion or deep, emotional conversation. There were no answers. She knew this. She'd known it all along. But as she drove away there was no stopping the tears that sprung to her eyes unprovoked and she let them fall where they may, dotting her lap and the steering wheel, rolling down her cheek and getting caught, just for a moment, on the tip of her chin.
She knew when the tears were dry that this was it, the end of a chapter, the start of something new. Maybe even something better. But she would still listen to those old songs, occasionally. She would still think of that house and the things that had happened in it and outside it and around it. She would still romanticize and make things better in her head than they were. But she was okay with this. It was finished, over, a piece of her history, and if she wanted to revisit it every now and then, well, that was her right. One by one the tears dried up. When the last one fell, at a stop light close to home, she watched in the rearview as it slowly made its way down the side of her cheek, over her chin and settled without a sound on her lap. She stared down at the wet spot until the light turned green. She stepped on the gas and continued home.
When she looked for the tear again, it was gone.

untitled, motionslow

i am vertical

2009-09-23T19:40:00.000-07:00

but I would rather be horizontal. i am not a tree with my root in the soil sucking up minerals and motherly love so that each March I may gleam into leaf, nor am I the beauty of a garden bed attracting my share of Ahs and spectacularly painted, unknowing I must soon unpetal. compared with me, a tree is immortal and a flower-head not tall, but more startling, and I want the one's longevity and the other's daring. tonight, in the infinitesimal light of the stars, the trees and the flowers have been strewing their cool odors. i walk among them, but none of them are noticing. sometimes I think that when I am sleeping I must most perfectly resemble them-- thoughts gone dim. it is more natural to me, lying down. then the sky and I are in open conversation, and I shall be useful when I lie down finally: then the trees may touch me for once, and the flowers have time for me.

sylvia p.

(( i wish i wrote this. among other things. ))

her royal highness

2009-09-22T14:16:00.000-07:00

hello, cross-eyes.

,,,

2009-09-20T13:37:00.000-07:00

goals:

a. take more pictures
b. grow my hair long (again.)
c. push this baby outttt.

i am going, light ahead

2009-09-14T15:20:00.000-07:00

i have some pretty talented friends on Flickr.

1. elsa-09, 2. Untitled, 3. .., 4. Untitled, 5. Untitled, 6. Untitled, 7. Untitled, 8. Day seventy two., 9. Untitled, 10. Untitled, 11. Untitled, 12. 71. Dime que no fue un sueño..., 13. Untitled, 14. 4th, 15. Untitled, 16. wanderer, 17. Untitled, 18. WHITE FLIGHT, 19. from a much...., 20. Untitled, 21. self, 22. Untitled, 23. lust, 24. 8, 25. Untitled

i'll take one of each, please.

2009-09-01T13:12:00.001-07:00

A break from all things to baby to lust after these gorgeous home goods & clothing I will never possess. But a girl can dream, right? Anthropologie, how I love and hate you all the same.

Fante Flag Rug

Forest Canopy Bed

Poupée Porcelaine, 2005

Winding Ruffle Boots

Saturated Petal Shoes

Hidden Sprigs Sweater Dress

Elimovna Coat

yes friends no friends why friends because friends

2009-08-18T18:18:00.000-07:00

About 6 months or so ago my friend Jen called me with exciting news: She was pregnant! I was happy for her and her husband and happier still to think of the adorable little baby they would surely produce. Well, maybe two weeks after that I called Jen with some news of my own...I was also pregnant! Subsequent visits to the doctor let us know that our due dates were only 15 days apart. Jen is due on the 7th of October while my little bundle of joy is expected on the 22nd. Even further subsequent visits to the doctor let us know more exciting news: we were both expecting girls! Fast forward 6 months later and Jen and I are both ready for the pregnancies to end and mommy-hood to begin. I can't even express with words how grateful I am to have such a close friend to experience the roller coaster that is pregnancy with. We never seem to run out of baby-related things to discuss and every strange bump, cramp or squirm in our bellies has us on the phone with each other, comparing symptoms and talking each other down from potential freak outs. Besides our future daughters, Jen and I also have husbands who play in the same band. When they are gone we become "wives", keeping each other company and commiserating on how hard it is to have a spouse on the road , and how much harder it still will become, both with being pregnant and raising a child. No worth can be put on having a friend who you know is literally going through the exact thing you are and who you know will sympathize and be there for you no matter what. God's timing is truly perfect. I really believe He has put us in each other's lives and grown us so close together; I'm so grateful for her friendship and the friendship our daughters will be born into!

photo taken by Beulah

feet to the stars

2009-08-06T18:05:00.000-07:00

Maren's room is coming together quite nicely. Every day I get more and more impatient. She responds to my touch already, if I press on my stomach she moves and turns and nudges me back. The thought of this baby absolutely consumes me all day every day and I'm ready for her to just get here already!

scales

2009-07-17T10:30:00.000-07:00

Sad face of a woman who has gained 25 pounds. Time to reel it in!

we tug on summer

2009-07-07T19:23:00.000-07:00

“Warm summer sun, shine kindly here. Warm southern wind, blow softly here. Green sod above, lie light, lie light. Good night, dear Heart, Good night, good night.”

daughter dear

2009-07-03T22:13:00.000-07:00

It's the way we communicate. Your little taps and kicks, secret movements for me and only me. When I press my hand to my belly I can feel you in there, tossing and turning the way I do in my sleep. One time, I pushed on my stomach in the same spot you decided to kick at that exact moment, as if you knew, you anticipated me, or somehow you can see through my skin, like you're watching the world from the other side of a two-way mirror. I wonder what you will look like. Will you have my dark hair? Will you have your father's bright eyes? A dusting of freckles across your nose and cheeks? Will you have my long fingers, small frame? Will you be anything like me at all? There are so many expectations that come along with the knowledge that I am carrying a little girl in my belly. I picture a many version of myself, but who am I to say what will shape and make you? What if the only thing we have in common are our dark green eyes that everyone wants to call brown? I am calling you Maren because it means "of the sea" and I like the idea of that, that you came from the ocean somehow, from the deepest, darkest depths of the water to grow inside me, to be made mine. Your middle name is Eleanor, which means "shining light." I believe that is what you will be for me, a bright and shining light, you will keep me safe when Timothy is away, you will save me from myself, my fears and worries and bad ideas. I already know I don't deserve you. But somehow God got it into His head to give this gift to me, to us, a child, a human life to care for and love and revolve our lives around. You are going to come into our house and turn everything upside down, this little life I've made for myself means nothing until you are here to share it with me. Do you know how much I love you already, and we haven't even met? You are going to make our house a home. You are going to make us a family, a mother and father and daughter, complete with pets, two cats and a dog. I can't wait to share these things with you, I can't wait to give up everything I have for you, my little girl, my baby, my sweet thing.

How can this great love be inside me?

YOU KNOW I LOVE YOU

2009-06-22T11:26:00.000-07:00

He leaves tomorrow & that makes me sad.

father's day

2009-06-21T19:23:00.000-07:00

Happy Father's Day to my wonderful husband! I can't wait to see him with our daughter, I can't wait to watch him become the amazing dad I know he is going to be. <3 Crazy to think this time next year there will be a little girl running around, almost 1 year old, making him cards and giving him presents.

everything nice

2009-06-18T12:40:00.000-07:00

Maren's room thus far... not much to it but we did get the walls painted and have the crib all set up. I plan on changing the yellow furniture to white and maybe wallpapering or decoupaging the front drawers of the dresser. So much to do! With 18 weeks left I feel like i have all the time in the world, then I look back at how quickly the last 5 months have gone by. 22 weeks today, I am one week away from my third and final trimester. She is kicking me furiously all day and night, it's so strong I can see my belly moving. At the moment I'm in a place of feeling both prepared and so very UNprepared for this little girl to enter my life. Lots of changes to come...Lord, help me to keep up!

the shoulders and bends

2009-06-04T08:05:00.000-07:00

This Sunday Timothy and I are driving up to Serenbe, Georgia for a few days before he leaves for Warped Tour. The town looks like a movie, too good to be real, a cross between the Village and that town in Big Fish. I'm excited to explore it and see what it has to offer. Maybe one day when we win the lottery we will build a house there! This trip is our last one together before the baby comes. Pray for no rain and a good time! Our next traveling venture will be with more than likely a less than one year old and while I am excited to start that adventure, it will be nice to have one last chance to be alone before everything changes.

In other news, my baby girl is doing somersaults in my stomach, mostly in the morning and sometimes late at night. Her little kicks seem to be getting stronger and stronger and I can't wait for the day when I can put Tim's hand on my stomach and let him feel it, too. As for now they are too random and quick for even me to feel with a hand.

one cat, two cat

2009-06-01T19:26:00.000-07:00

So, another stray has found its way into my heart. There are just too many cats in my neighborhood! And I couldn't resist bringing this little guy home the other day. He lived in the bushes by the front gate to my neighborhood and after witnessing another baby kitten get hit by car I couldn't just leave him out there anymore. So, with all intentions of finding a proper home for him that was not mine, I'm beginning to come to terms with the fact that he has probably already found his home. Besides, I think he thinks Moses is his mother and how am I supposed to resist this face?

girlish

2009-05-27T19:16:00.001-07:00

It's kind of amazing how quickly my mind is consumed with all things baby. And now that I know I'm having a girl it has only intensified! I've recently (recently, as in the last few days) become obsessed with baby consignment shops. These stores that I once used to notice and look on with dismay, wishing they were actual thrift shops rather than just specializing in baby things, are now all I think about and want to shop at! I've found quite a few outfits for my baby girl already. Too many, actually. I've had to put things back more than once. Besides the clothes buying, which is the easy part in my opinion, my mind is full of strollers and diaper bags and car seats and nursery furniture. I don't really know where to start! It's overwhelming when I think of all the things we are going to need for this tiny little human that's about to enter our lives. Either way, I'm up for the challenge of wading through item after item to find the perfect thing for us and I can't wait to start getting everything together for real, making some progress. Speaking of progress...weeks pass and my stomach just grows and grows. I know she is in there doing backflips, I wish she would let me feel it already!

light will pour

2009-05-21T08:43:00.000-07:00

An ode to summers long since past & maybe a bit of inspiration for me of late. The days have been gray and dreary and although I love the rain and everything it brings I can't help but feel lazy and out of it, more inclined to lay in bed with my pjs on then get up and do something with my day.

I've been less than driven to photograph in the last days or weeks or months and I don't like that. I feel like I've lost my subjects and I've lost my creativity. I'm hoping it finds me again soon (or I, it.) In the meantime I will make a real effort to get all the undeveloped film crowding my dresser drawers developed and thus maybe feel like I've done more than just sitting around, making beds and washing dishes.

inspired

2009-05-16T09:14:00.001-07:00

some beautiful things i've noticed of late:

by, i am cookie

by, Sasha Nitkitin

by, Jessica Hans

by, Hannah

by, Colby Vincent Edwards

by, Sofia Ander

17 weeks

2009-05-14T19:09:00.000-07:00

All things grow, all things grow!

can't remember the ocean

2009-05-13T09:39:00.000-07:00

I love this song. I love the lyrics. I love that I just remembered how much I used to love it and downloaded it again! It's beautiful and makes me feel so nostalgic I don't know what to do with myself. And this video is pretty awesome, too.

Mammoth Cave, Holopaw

Empty pocket... take hold of the lamb's ear
between your thumb and finger... all pilled and threadbare.
I'll lead you down from the hip towards the falls...
azalea-blushed, turned red so slow we couldn't remember
if it was ever pink at all.

Canary's throat is pink and ribbed with sailor's songs..,
remembrances and cursing the black hole.
Poor son of a bitch, couldn't even fly for the mist...
can't remember the ocean but felt the pitch and roll in her chest.

This path, it tightens off.
I hear the ocean in it's depths...
past the flowstone and the icicle fence.
Cocksure sailor, you're polished gypsum and warm milk
shore-leave-abandon and lashes heavy from the mist.
I'll lead you down..

Canary's song caught in her throat...
closed off sharp and crystalline.
Her songs still hang in the tracery.
Poor son of a bitch, couldn't even fly for the mist....
Color leached out so slow she couldn't remember if she was ever pink at all.

o high-riser

2009-05-08T11:16:00.000-07:00

I would like to frame this poem & hang it in my baby's room. It's one of my favorites by Sylvia Plath and it makes me smile and tear up just a tad every time I read it. I can't wait for the days when I can relate to it even more, looking after my own little loaf with her feet to the stars.

YOU'RE

Clownlike, happiest on your hands,
Feet to the stars, and moon-skulled,
Gilled like a fish. A common-sense
Thumbs-down on the dodo's mode.
Wrapped up in yourself like a spool,
Trawling your dark as owls do.
Mute as a turnip from the Fourth
Of July to All Fool's Day,
O high-riser, my little loaf.

Vague as fog and looked for like mail.
Farther off than Australia.
Bent-backed Atlas, our travelled prawn.
Snug as a bud and at home
Like a sprat in a pickle jug.
A creel of eels, all ripples.
Jumpy as a Mexican bean.
Right, like a well-done sum.
A clean slate, with your own face on.