I remember a girl named Kristen at art school. She was creating an album for a class assignment that documented her injuries. She had 4x6 prints and even a few polaroid images. The image spanned several images. Cuts. Bruises. The usual injuries in life. The album I turned in was a collection of images I shot in Cuba a few months before. My class spent seven days in Havana exploring the arts and meeting so many interesting people.
This year has been a tough one. My brother has labeled it "The year of hospitals". My friend Brian, who has lost greatly this year, has labeled it "The best summer ever". Really, what choice do we have?
My heart is frayed. Mike and I are torn around the edges. This summer, my dad will start chemo, so we will rally. This is a fight he will win. There has been so much heartbreaking loss and terrible diagnoses that we have fought and ran from. Right now, we are going to fight a very contained lung cancer and win. I know to be hopeful, but shadows of loved ones lost knock me over now and again.
I keep getting a bruise on my right arm. It’s on my inner bicep. It looks like someone tried to grab me. I’m pretty sure its from the metal on my camera strap. Every time I see it, I have that feeling of falling down, of having too much on my plate.
I’m the type of person who counts my blessings. This season of amazing events running alongside heartbreaking events is a confusing one. I’m looking to heal and express these feelings that are leaving me so raw. I don’t want to make a list of the tragedies. It’s not my way. I also don’t want to be too quiet or I may find myself breaking down and falling apart by the smallest of bruises.
So if anyone is interested in having the best summer ever, I’m your girl. I’m here to celebrate the small, beautiful moments and count them as victories. I want to honor these painful moments with living thoughtfully and enthusiastically.