Coming Out of the Quiet

It’s been awhile since you saw my words here — almost a month since my last post.  In real life, I’ve been busy … sometimes even frantic.  But in this space I’ve let the silence fall like a curtain, heavy and thick.

I needed that silence.

On the heels of my last series — Same Body, Second Glance — I felt tired in a way I haven’t before.  I’m not talking about a tiredness that comes from writing a lot, or shooting a lot, or editing a lot.  I’m used to that sort of thing.

I’m talking about an exhaustion that comes from a steady daily output of white-knuckled vulnerability.  Which is a different thing entirely.

Don’t misunderstand me:  I never felt this exhaustion was negative.  It was necessary for me, and good, in the way that exhaustion after a long, hard workout is necessary and good.  But I knew I needed to respond to it.  So I stepped away, and I rested.

And in the meantime, the snows melted, and spring unfolded outside my windows… Lush.  Rainwet.  Green.  The birds returned, waking me at first light with their warbling.  In the afternoons I’d find velvety pink rose petals scattered on the steps to the backyard.  Then there was the scent of it:  turned earth and damp leaves.  Honeysuckle.

I stayed silent.  I photographed nothing.  I drank in the green and, for almost a month, felt no obligation to explain it to anyone.  In this way, I reminded myself that my life was my own…

My story.

My body.

My words.

These things are all mine, to give or to keep as I choose.  They always have been.

And yet, after enjoying them for awhile, I am ready, again, to share them with you.

I suppose I always knew I would be.


Welcome back, friends.  ❤