Hoarding Moments

Two Monkeys: Miles and Hank. Notice that Hank has a yogurt lid in his mouth. Fetching matters most, above all. Tonite I was uploading some new pictures, mostly of Miles. When I photograph him, I take 40-80 shots at a time, knowing that most will not be keepers. When I look at them full size, even if they are no good, I can hardly bear to delete them. I have this thing about moments-I hoard them. Deleting even a poor picture is something like a sin, because it showcases a moment and if I delete it, I am deleting the evidence that it happened forever... Totally O.C., I know. I try to keep only the best or most useful things in my life, but I struggle with letting go. I feel a sense of loss, then grief, when I lose details about something or someone I loved or cherished. For me, being an artist has meant creating within a moment. A specific energy is circulating, and I am capturing and documenting it when I write, paint or sculpt. Evidence that I am able to harness and color moments makes me feel grateful. I have a strong ethic of gratitude, not always a bad thing, unless you're me. Not writing, not taking pictures, or not documenting my life is decidedly ungrateful, unappreciative, not drinking in the moment, not recording the magic, living WRONG. I have kept dozens of journals in my adult life. When I read them, I can see who I am clearly. I can see that I am a good person, the same person, on my path. Apparently, I forget a lot. Creating and documenting reminds and shows me that I deserve to be living. That I have earned it. My lovely creations prove that, right? I am worthy? (Wounded underbelly exposed). This entry is dedicated to Monica Mardou who believes that everyone but she has it all figured out.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

hey beautiful woman,
i wanted you to know just how much you've affected me ~
as a maiden looking to a mother.

last night i dreamt i gave birth to a boy who looked exactly like miles...
and was deeply in swirling love with this little soul, heavily in mother feeling, just the sensation of his skin pressed against mine. drinking in, inhaling each moment, and i closed my eyes, only to open them to find my beautiful child was 4 years old, and i had given birth to another boy. and i cried, and i keened, and i grieved, i asked "how could it be???" that i had blinked and missed the sweet moments of witnessing my child's life, wanting to hold it forever close to me. i gathered him together in my arms again, his four year old limbs splayed across me and wiggling.

even as i write this, tears form behind my eyes and make themselves known to me when i blink ~ such was the intensity of these feelings.

as i write this, i realise the synchronicity of all it...

oh, the universe is a mysterious place.

in love and light,

(i never thought i would give birth to boys ~ there is a strong girl presence beside me who i know will be my daughter ~ but after this dream, i feel differently)

12/12/2006 12:41:00 AM  
Blogger Wendy said...

what a brilliant photo! i too believe we must savour the moments...record them, cherish them.

fellow journal keeper,


12/12/2006 10:33:00 AM  
Blogger changapeluda said...

and here i thought i was singularly weirdlike :0]
in my great hesitance to delete.

i find it easier to do on the camera before i see it fullsize and adorable (even if it's accidently just the top of his head)

12/12/2006 11:47:00 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Thank you. That's about all I can manage at the moment.

You are spectacular.

12/12/2006 02:52:00 PM  

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