there are days when i think i want more same because same is safe and knowable. there are times when the same is all i can do and that's enough. the days of same are important in their structure and they hold space for me so that when i am able to feel that i can embrace the different and face the possibly unsafe or unknowable, i will remember them as days that deepen me differently and i will be willing to take that risk for differentness again when i am ready. 

One of the many qualities that I love about my husband Tim is the way that he observes the world around him. Most days, he will bring me a treasure that he has discovered during his day...whether it's seed pods, rocks or dead birds dragonflies and butterflies, he will tenderly bring me amazing things that have captivated him knowing they will captivate me as well. Recently, we were in Chicago for a week. He had to work, but I got to play. Fortunately at night, we got to play together. While we were out walking in the thick fog one night in the heart of the city, Tim said "look at those wings". A bird had met its demise and all that remained was its wings laying in the gutter. I guess I would expect to see something like that in the rural area that we live in, but seeing the rawness of nature on the busy city streets really awakened me. Set against the city buzz, everything seemed to align once more and I was reminded of the connection we all have to one another and every living thing...even in the midst of the fast pace of city living and these impossibly disconnected times. It gave me hope.

when i was very young, my mother told me that a dragonfly would stitch my mouth shut if it landed on me. for many years afterward, i was terrified of dragonflies and would scream if they came near me. i was sure their long tail was as sharp as a needle...that they would hurt me as they stitched my mouth closed. my mother never knew how her words had effected me. what seemed harmless to her was deeply traumatizing to me. it was that way with most of her words. what i came to understand many years later, was that dragonflies were not the ones who could hurt me, it was my mother.

Dear Jerry Uelsmann,

I had the opportunity to hear you speak yesterday. The words you spoke were so moving and impactful, but it was the things that you didn't say that moved me the most. 

Thank you for your soul bearing emotions that made their tender and wrenching way through your words.

Thank you for showing your raw, vulnerable grief and struggle to resolve it through your imagery.

Thank you for embracing all photography in its various forms.

Thank you for reminding us that we are first and foremost humans and that it is the camera...a mere tool,  that is at our mercy. 

Sincerely yours,

Dawn

“And every year there is a brief, startling moment 

When we pause in the middle of a long walk home and 

Suddenly feel something invisible and weightless 

Touching our shoulders, sweeping down from the air: 

It is the autumn wind pressing against our bodies; 

It is the changing light of fall falling on us.” 

― Edward Hirsch, Wild Gratitude

the strange and haunting time of early fall.

i have always felt that september has a distinct sadness to it....  the time of  year when all my past losses and memories come flooding back  to remind me that they are a part of me... asking me humbly to honor them once again.

this..... i remember

driving down a country road at sunset,

a gravel driveway on the right side of the car leading up a hill to a modest, white house.

a woman sits on the stoop staring vacantly into space with a lit cigarette in her hand. 

at the base of the driveway, a small sign is staked into the grass. the sign simply consists of an arrow pointing up the driveway and just a single word... 

funeral.

in those times of anxiety and fear, i start to look everywhere for signs that let me know i am on the path of highest and best good...my true path. and always with great tenderness and sometimes humor, the universe reminds me that the answer lies within. 

very honored to have two images invited into PhotoPlace Gallery's exhibit, "flight". many thanks to Laura Moya and congratulations to all my fellow exhibitors. this show is fabulous and i am very thrilled to be a part of it. the show will run june 8, 2016- july 1, 2016 and you can see the entire show here: http://photoplacegallery.com/flight/

my girl is having a baby.

it’s a time of great expansion for her and for me as her mom. my heart feels so big and full of love that i can’t even believe that it can fit inside my body at times.

there is not a single day that goes by when i don’t learn something new about being her mom. even now as a young adult, her presence and energy in my life brings new depth to my own.

everyone told me how much my world would change when i was carrying her…i listened to them all. 

i just didn’t hear them. 

how could i? how could i possibly know that birthing her would bring such a profound depth of love and blessings throughout my entire life?

even now, that fact surprises me and delights me and humbles me.

i never tire of its teachings…

the mysteries and rhythms of life,

wrapped in love.

eyes wide open

the other day, tim and i were driving down a two lane country road. the car in front of us was driving much too slow for the likes of him and he was growing impatient waiting for the opportunity to pass.

when the road finally opened up, he looked over at me with a grin and asked;

“are you ready?”

“yep”, i replied.

“okay…here we go”

and off we went…full on.

and i didn’t close my eyes,

or brace for the worse.

i didn’t caution him to be careful.

i just smiled and leaned right into the moment….it was exhilarating. 

and in that instant, i realized it was the perfect metaphor for my life with him. in the few short years we have been together he has always been the one to ask;

“are you ready? (because here we go and i want you to go with me and i want you to be brave and i want you to trust me, yourself and this moment)”

that trust road…

it has been a hard road to travel down…a road fraught with double solid lines and blind curves and windshield wipers that didn’t always work. while i've traveled far, i know it continues to be a road i still travel, ever grateful for its ability to teach me.

i reach across and squeeze tim’s hand.

“let’s do this thing”

Very honored to have three pieces juried into the "childhood" show at A. Smith Gallery in Johnson City, Texas. Thank you to Tom Chambers and Amanda Smith for this honor and congratulations to all of the outstanding participating artists. 

Wish I could see it in person.

Very honored to be shipping this image off to The Center for Fine Art Photography in Fort Collins, Colorado for the show, Center Forward.  This show opens September 4, 2015 through September 26th.

This exhibition is comprised of phone camera images only which were uploaded to the Power Plant Gallery and then printed on Museo Silver Rag paper.  The paper is gorgeous and luckily, we get to have the prints when the exhibit comes down.  I was not familiar with Museo's products.  They are located in Massachusetts and you can find out more about them on their website:  http://www.museofineart.com

Highly recommend them.

Honored to be a part of this exhibition at the Through This Lens Gallery, Durham, NC.

let me choose the good start today……to breathe in this day with gratitude.

all things matter

if your heart finds itself alone,
i wish you the gift of connection to all living things.
if your heart is joyful,
i wish you the gift of belief that it shall continue to hold its joy for all of your days.
if your heart is hurting,
i wish you the quiet gift of resolution.
if your heart is fearful,
i wish you the penetrating gift of courage.
if your heart is bound by shame,
i wish you the liberating gift of honor,
and if your heart is full of love,
may you continue to share it with the world.

merry christmas