Bring me that Horizon.

Blanketed by humidity, its easy to move a little bit slower in Charleston in June. It happens every year. An unstoppable shroud of thickness, unshakable unless you're either by the beach or in a well air conditioned home. But when your air conditioner dies and you are forced to buy 6 fans to move hot air around your house, drastic measures need to be taken. I would

highly recommend a Slip 'N' Slide or running through a sprinkler, a favorite childhood past time of mine.

If there were a soundtrack to my life, summertime in Charleston would always be a combination of Jazz and the latest rock/hip-hop to come out of 95sx radio. They become the perfect mesh of what it means to be tortured by heat desperate for shade under a Live Oak and in the dead center of a city booming with personality. The whole idea of summer is to relax, no? Each year marks a different stage of relaxation...going from College summer months, to 2 weeks vacation at a 9 to 5 job, or rearranging your entire hospital work schedule and swing 10 days off in a row, taking only 12 hours of vacation time. Check and double check. I have found myself traveling again, I will be more specific in a few weeks when I have photographic evidence and stories to tell. But for now, the sweet sounds of Nina Simone serenade my coffee shop friends and I. For I am chasing the horizon once again. I have acquired enemies of my traveling life lately. I wish I could take you all with me! The only excuse can offer is pure luck and good fortune that I am able to travel the way that I do. I had a friend once that said he would wake up some days and not know what country he was in. I was jealous beyond belief and longed for such a day to come. I cannot say I travel to the extent of my friend, but sometimes I do have to stop and pinch myself when I am watching the sunrise in Ireland, and then later that day watch it set in Madrid....


You hate me don't you? Its ok, I've accepted it...


For now I'll put a stamp my internal passport and cross off a few things from my bucket list, I am still dying to cross off #57, throw a good punch to someone who deserves it. There has to be SOMEONE out there deserving of my left hook. My father would be proud, he's probably laughing at me now. The most terrifying and exhilarating part of travel for me is who I will meet. I have met some of the most fascinating people on AIRPLANES, life long friends in fact, brought together over a mistaken flight change and our accidental first class seats. I have also met characters that could be behind the mask in the "Saw" movies; twisted and dark. The kind of people you walk, and definitley run in the other direction from. And yet I feel drawn to the danger, call it stupidity if you'd like but I'm a feeler. I am excited to see whats behind the mask, whats beneath the surface, whats behind door number one?! If I feel like picking up the crack addict hitch-hiker, I will. I felt it necessary to semi-rescue him from the drug deal gone bad situation he had found himself in. It worked out in the end.So, you can only imagine what I am thinking as I am moments away from embarking on my newest summertime adventure.
Just don't confuse my travel thoughts with recklessness. It may not put my mother at ease, but I am by no means gallavanting the country trying to rescue possibly dangerous criminals from the streets they walk on, I simply act with feelings, and if that means a rescue or a left hook thats fine by me. Bring it on, just like that horizon line.

Heartstrings.

I pondered the realness of the world today, over ice cream. Or rather the "realness" of my world. The similarities and the differences I share with people, laughs, tears, pros and cons. A plethora of life experience and knowledge creating the world I have made for myself. Not imaginary, just customized. So, while sitting there I wondered, what life experiences have made me think the way I do, or more specifically, how I perceive this world to be. There have been constant choices that have been made to bring me here to this moment of enjoying my chocolate ice cream ( complete with M&Ms, jimmies, and Nestle Crunch crumbles). But was there one moment in time that decided my fate? or have there always been little bits of life happening around me, mine for the taking to piece together my million piece puzzle that is becoming my life? The latter sounds the most reasonable and likely. Which for the most part has been exciting. I like puzzles, I like challenge. Tell me I can't and I will prove you wrong, stubborn as that may be...

The Velveteen Rabbit once asked the Skin Horse if becoming real hurts. And the Horse, always being truthful, said that sometimes it does; but once you are real you do not mind being hurt. It sounds so ridiculous and irrational to cast aside pain and soldier through it as if it were air or wind, something subconsciously thought about. But maybe the Skin horse was on to something. I have met many people, who would gladly take the place of their family member lying in the hospital bed. To shoulder the hurt, because of love. The heart is tethered to the vibration of life. It tugs at our heartstrings, it knows when to send out signals of distress or joy. And through our journey of life we become more insightful and can hear the heart beat.


In more ways the one our heart is a vital organ; ways that we cannot conceivably try to fathom. Our lives are dictated by its beats and we teeter along the pulse of life; and consciously (or not) ask it to keep ticking. We ask a lot of our heart, physically and emotionally. Sometimes there is a simple solution, other times you are torn in so many directions the heart's answer is lost, blurred beneath the deluge of possibilities, all as questionable as the next.


So what do you do in this situation? How do you remedy a lost heart? A broken heart? The paradox of this answer is that what works for me may not work for you. There is nothing concrete about a heartbeat. I could tell you to travel cross-country and soul search, take pictures of everything and everyone you meet. LEARN from your friends, your enemies. Burn a bridge, I hear you can rebuild if need be. Be reckless, get it together, fall apart, fall into someones arms. Cry. Laugh over coffee, call the right people, or listen to yourself for once.


See? Possibilities. The ability to make the decision to DO something is the most fearsome. It constitutes change. It makes us question, which is only human. But silence is probably fear's best friend, our worst enemy, yet where we run to first. To admit defeat or fear is not a trait humans enjoy or revel in. We would rather portray the picture of health and happiness; while our insides are picked at and tested. I...we would do well to take down the wall we have put up between ourselves and those who are willing, eager, and non-judgmentally here to assist. Even if its brick by brick and not all at once. We have to start somewhere. It is part of the REAL journey of life, little by little, and year by year we eventually learn to be. It is impossible to stay the same, it should be exciting rather than terrifying. And, as the Skin Horse also said, " It doesn't happen all at once, it takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily or have sharp edges or who have to be carefully kept...because once you are real you can't be ugly, except to the people who don't understand".

Miss Olivia.

Olivia.
Doesn't that name make your head turn? It's not common these days. But its uniqueness already eludes to the personality of its beholder. Take a look:

There on the living room floor sat this little person, bewitched by every toy and smiling her best toothless grin. She even makes drool look cute! If Olivia could talk at this stage of life I would imagine she would be asking a lot of questions: " Whats this?, Whats that? Why are you so tall? What color is the letter 'M'? Why are you pointing that thing in my face? Can you hand me that toy?". She has the most inquisitive eyes, and I just could not get enough of that smile. She wanted to be a part of every conversation, making sure we knew she was just as much a part of this world as we were. And Miss Olivia is not easily swayed, she always found a way to make herself known, always in the cutest way possible. Camera or not, you can't take you're eyes off this little one.

Kids make you think. 7 month olds definitely put it all in perspective. You have to be 10 steps ahead of their next nap time. Everything is edible and tears are still apart of the daily routine; crocodile or not. I would imagine, that each day could be likened to a chess game. The outside world is who you're playing against. And you are fighting to protect that one little chess piece. You have to beat out the pawns (small edible objects), the electrical plugs ( rooks), furry animals (knights), and the ever present dirty diaper ( the king). But mothers are resilient, they will fight tooth and nail to keep safe what is most precious to them. Don't challenge a mother, they always win.

There is a magic to motherhood.
There is a sense of natural born wisdom and intellect that arises when a child comes into their lives. I have seen, watched, and learned from it; an untouchable love for love that comes from somewhere within. A love that makes everything in the world sound ridiculous and absolutely perfect all at once. I could have snapped the shutter a million times that day of Miss Olivia, and not one photograph would have suggested something other than that this little girl is SO loved. That is a love the world will stand still for, limitless boundaries are made in the name of love. That alone makes every day ( stinky diaper filled or not) worth all the little laughs and smiles she can give...

Big thanks and love to Jenny for letting me photograph the happiest baby I have ever met.