Unwritten.

I want to be more.
I want a story.
I want to be the story,
and to write the story.
I want to be important enough to re-write history for.
There is something in me that is worth sharing.
Something worth tearing down for and tearing up over.
I believe.
I'm not being dramatic.
I'm not over-stating.
I am not afraid to fail.
Or if I am, I choose to not let that stop me.
I am not weak.
There is something bigger than me ready to eat it's way out.
But instead of devouring me, it's going to feed me.
And I will be ready.

Graceful Exit

My friend and I were recently having a conversation about relationships and how often people don't seem to be able to healthily let go of someone/something so that it is able to stay in their life by simply changing it's place or importance.  Not to in any way whatsoever toot my own horn, but for example, the fact that I am once again friends with my ex-fiance and the friend that he left me for.  And I say "once again friends" very purposefully instead of "still friends", because in the beginning it was messy and bad and there was definitely a good deal of time that we all made sure to not ever be in the same place at the same time.  But I very strongly believe that there are some people in your life that you can simply not replace.  And it occurred to me one day that my life was richer with the two of them in it, and if I chose to continue to be hurt and angry and bitter, then I was the one losing out.  But I also was not able to come to that conclusion until I completely let go of him and chose to move on from the relationship.  I got to a point (I'm sure only by the grace of God) to be able to see it truly for what it was...I didn't put it on a pedestal and only remember the good times, but nor did I throw it in the gutter and disacknowledge that there were ever any positive moments...it was an incredibly intense and defining relationship that I can't regret because I wouldn't be me without it, but it was also unhealthy and not right and the only way for me to grow as a person was to be out of it.  I guess I'm lingering on this point because I think that that is maybe the problem.  When a relationship (whether it be romantic or a friendship or whatever) ends, people have a tendency to not be honest about what it was and hold onto some idea of what they think it was and then not ever actually let it go.  Literally almost every time that someone finds out that I'm friends with my ex, they tell me either that I'm crazy or "well you're a better person than I am, I could never do that".  But why not??  Obviously there are some relationships that the healthy progression of letting go and moving on means that they are no longer in your life.  But it's more the fact that it's almost socially unacceptable to stay friends with an ex...and god forbid that your significant other is still friends with their ex, hell-to-the-no!  Why can there not be a healthy level of trust and friendship that is a result of truly letting go.  (I'm not saying that a married person should go have one-on-one candlelit dinners with an ex...but seriously why is it so hard to believe that someone whom you once cared deeply for in one way, you can still care deeply for in a completely other way??)

Ok I know that now I'm just up on a soapbox and dually ranting about a legitimate societal frustration and also in reference to a personal situation that I'm choosing to not naming names about.  I guess all these thoughts that have been swirling around my head lately finally culminated today when, while cleaning and organizing I started reading an old journal, and came across something I'd written down that a former pastor said once....I think it sums up the point I've been trying to make, much much more concisely than all my rambling:

"There is a trick to the graceful exit.   It begins with the vision to recognize when a job, a life stage, a relationship is over - and let it go.  It means leaving what's over without denying its validity or its past importance to our lives.  It involves a sense of future, a belief that every exit line is an entry, that we are moving on, rather than out."
- Pastor Jim Hylton, 12/21/00

Story of my life

If you can't decide if you're dead or alive, you just need to feel that way once...

Some day I hope to be the Rebekah that could inspire something like this....

Bucket list item #493: To be a ninja dancer w/ a sword in flour

It's all about the picture

"In the early 1980′s I found myself among the people I most wanted to avoid, when I was younger. Despite my insistence that I wanted nothing to do with the corporate world, here I was right smack in the middle with the master’s of the universe, and to my surprise and amusement, I found I loved it.

Despite all the problems with my father and the years of escaping to the impoverished world he couldn’t understand or control, I found that I was able to stand beside these men (as at that time it was 90% men) and feel not only comfortable, but some part of me felt right at home.

I guess I understood them, wasn’t intimidated by them, and in fact found myself defending them against a society that both admired and loathed them. I found some loathsome, but many I found were valiant and distinguished. I guess in my fashion I tried to expose their nobility.

I had tried the same with people of no means, and now it was time to find the hidden goodness, or at least a part of these men the public face never showed.

This is another story without a picture. Not because I didn’t take one, I did, but I think it best for me, and for him, not to reveal his identity. In this case, I think it is best to protect the guilty.

This is a story about risk, GREAT RISK. I wasn’t putting myself in harm’s way (although in a way I was). It’s a story of what I find lacking in most people’s portraits. Not their ability, but their emotional courage.

With this introduction, I must digress for a second and explain my methodology and my tactics with dealing with these men.

The scenario goes something like this, their secretary, or marketing director, or creative director of the agency would advise me that I had 3o minutes to photograph a certain CEO.

I learned quickly to simply smile and off to the races I would go. I would try to set up a meeting with the CEO a week before the shoot. This sounds easy, but at times was next to impossible. Who was I, this insignificant, unimportant photographer wanting some precious time with the king? They’re protected or flanked in every direction by people whose job it is to protect these men from meddling people like myself.

After a while, I did get good at this and often found ingenious ways to circumvent these guards and found ways to meet with the man of the hour and convince him to forget the notion of a thirty minute picture and give me a day or two. I must admit almost 90% of the time it worked, and next week I will tell you more, but now I must tell you about a time it did not.

As you might expect, one of the times I was unable to plow through the linebackers and get to the CEO, was with a real master of the financial universe, a moneyman extraordinaire, a man whom a few million here or a few million there was decided like choosing between French toast or pancakes.

These were generally the people I liked the least. They made nothing but moved money around and used their brilliance to outwit the world and their competitors. In my mind, they generally did not add to the general good that drove American enterprise but there were exceptions to this and perhaps, in retrospect, this was just too simple a model either to believe or to be true.

So back to my story, despite all my protestations I never was able to meet this man prior to the shoot.

The morning of the shoot, he walked in and quickly announced to me, and the 20 to 30 underlings who also were in the room, in a gruff and emphatic voice, “Let’s get this over with as soon as possible.”

As usual everyone was very nervous. The agency representatives that hired me could lose the account and therefore their jobs. The marketing director could lose his job for hiring the agency that hired me, and so on. Everyone looked in control, but in fact everyone was totally out of control. What would happen next? All the underlings agreed inside, “Let’s get this over with as fast as possible, so he will be happy. And we can all go back to our bagels and make some more money.”

I said fine to him, directed him slightly and took one frame and announced, “Were done. It’s finished.” Everyone in the room froze with fear. He then said to me quizzically, with a smile on his face, “We’re finished?” He was surprised how easy it was to win the battle.

I said, “Yes. I have a competent picture of you. You get what you put into this. I am ready to invest my soul into this portrait of you, to work as hard as I can, are you? You have a picture that represents your commitment. It’s fine and should work well enough for your needs.”

Everyone was wide-awake now. Our man said this is great! We’re finished. Thank you. And off he went. Everyone left in the room didn’t know if they should celebrate and eat lunch for two or if they would be returning to eviction notices.

As I was packing up with my assistants and just about to go to the elevator to leave a secretary came running up to me and says our man of the second would like to see me in his office. I went to his office and he immediately started showing me pictures of his various homes. At first I had no idea what was going on. As we didn’t know each other well enough to vacation together, but in reality it turned out he was showing me places that he could spend time with me, and wanted to know where I would like to take his portrait.

So you see, the moral of this story is not about him or me; it’s about the picture. How important is it to you? How much are you willing to invest to fight for it, to protect it? And most of all, how much are you willing to risk?"

 - Rodney Smith (photographer extraordinaire)  

original blog post

Rodney Smith photos

Jar of Hearts