Sixteen and Ninety

There are several things happening in this picture.  I’m sixteen.  Wearing my favourite black top and black jeans.  In a time where only the goths wore black, I thought I was really chic, although I had no idea what that meant at all.  Also, I look like a gleeful dog strangler, but I really did love that dog.  I’m barefoot, I think because I couldn’t find any shoes that I felt matched my fancy pants outfit.

And now for the best part, my hairstyle is compliments of a picture of Oprah that I took to the hairdresser as reference.  Oh how she must have laughed with her hairdresser friends afterwards. Laughed and laughed.

Returning to your family home is always such a strange daydream.  Mine is filled with photographs.  In frames, on the fridge, in albums.  Little rectangles of times before now.  Last year, twenty five years ago.  Sometimes I want to step into these pictures like a character from Harry Potter.  Mostly to give this Oprah haircut sporting girl a massive hug and tell her, well first, not to eat all the pies, because let me tell you she was about to, and then, that it’s okay to make mistakes, to be unsure.  That it’s okay to be unafraid.  Bad things don’t always happen because you are bold, Young Oprah Camilla, I promise. [Read more...]

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Smiling at Strangers, etc.

You know that thing that makes you happiest?  That thing that makes you feel like it is too good to be true, but for reals, it can’t be true?!

That thing that makes you feel like the most you. The best you. You.

For me that thing is writing. Words and words and words.  Sometimes I don’t really know what to say or how to say the things that I really want to say, but, that doesn’t seem like a good enough reason not to do the thing that feels too good to be true.  So here I am. Hi! [Read more...]

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Once

Once the dust has settled, the air has cleared, the last rectangle of streamer has wafted to the ground.

Once night becomes day and day becomes night again.

And again.

Once everything is done.  And said.

Once the filter is selected.

The coffee is drunk.

The wine is tasted.

The whiskey’s block of ice has melted.

Once you run out of etcs and NBs.

Once you strip off the robe of phoenixes and new leaves and fish in the sea.

Once you don’t tell the check out lady.

Once nothing is a sign of something else.

Once once becomes once.

 

 

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