+ beginning again, again. +

i've watched you try to live like you have no soul
why are you surprised you feel it breaking
darling there's another way
to beautiful, adrenaline and saturation

i am rebirth
and i am beautiful.

+ beautiful things. +

The value of myth is that it takes all the things we know and restores them to the rich significance which has been hidden by the ‘veil of familiarity.’ [cs lewis]

- - -

ps. i widened my blog by 60px. let me know if you have trouble viewing, or if the layout seems off on your computer. :)

pps. i made a little drawing!

+ love and war +

Have any of you heard of this book yet? John and Staci Eldredge wrote it together, and if I blog about this, I get a free copy of the book. ;) I love them. Captivating was an incredible, incredible book.

Some of you may or may not know that I've been living pretty much in some alternate universe for the last 6-9 months, and it's been just about the most difficult blip of my life to date. Depression, hospital/doctor visits weekly, and being someone that clearly was not myself. I thought I knew what depression was until this past season. Hating life & everything about it, not wanting to get out of bed (ever), crying for no reason, wild mood swings, pills that turn you into a zombie, being intensely angry, and having the general attitude of "fuck everything" - I am remembering this and hoping that I will never again land in that place.

A couple weeks ago, I lost it and screamed at God for over an hour, and that weekend went through some intense prayer and realized I had unknowingly made the decision to just give up. Stopped believing that God wants what is best, and that God was a Daddy who loved me like a Daddy should...Sorry for all the religious-speak, but I'd done something I always swore I wouldn't do: let religion get between me and God. When this happens, you "deserve" an easy life for being such a great person, and for "giving things up" for God. When this happens, and life is still a bitch, you start blaming God. And guess what! It's pretty damn hard to love someone or let yourself be loved by someone that you think is screwing you over on a daily basis! ANYWAY.

Thankfully, my darling friend Kelly recommended the book "Awakening the Dead" by John Eldredge, and I started reading it a couple days ago. EVERYTHING MAKES SENSE NOW. Man, if you're flat out confused about God or what the hell is going wrong with the world, you should read this book. It's not long, and it's easy, easy language. Please read it if you get the chance.

Here's to starting over, for the hundredth time, and still being perfectly loved.

PS. I always think that I "know" what life will be like as a Christian, and I choose to pursue that or something else. The truth is, I don't know, at ALL, and I am guilty of limiting what Christianity means. I've decided it's boring, because of those limits. It isn't boring. It's more adventurous. And way more fun. Yeah, FUN.

+ growing up, part 428 +

As frequently as I forget that we change as we grow, I am reminded. A while ago, I began noticing there were more than a few things I didn't like, simply because I'd never liked them as a child. I began experimenting with flipping the switch in my brain that was marked "I don't like this," and tried to honestly reappraise my likes and dislikes. A good number of these things, I love now. So, I have a rough rule for myself: if you haven't tried it in the last year, you don't know if you like it or not. Or, do you love it this year, yet??

Guess who loves asparagus now? And heels? Goat cheese ice cream, the color pink, chocolate milkshakes, dresses, sushi, tumblr, and forever on.

I had a shocking new love that was realized over the weekend. Rain.

I've always been a strict direct-sunlight-in-extreme-heat person, and despised everything from a slight chill to the heart of winter. Clouds, rain, snow, hail, wind, low temperatures...not for me. Sunshine and heat? Instantly happy. But something happened on Saturday morning, and the pitterpatter of the rain hitting the rooftops woven perfectly in with the splashing of tires racing on the wet pavement sounded like starting over. New and fresh, but somehow settling and comforting. It took me 22 years to get here, and I now love rain.















Forgive me for the awkward mashup of images. These are all the things I love today.

it is in our fantasies that we see our realities in all their truth.

+ ice cream! +

It's about time I dedicate a post to Jeni's. Unfortunately, this little gourmet ice cream shop is only a couple blocks down from me, so I visit way too often. Today, I had to shoot around for a school photo assignment and decided to throw some up for you all to see!



















I've been slowing down a lot lately, and trying to do more things that I genuinely love to do, and I'm already feeling much better. Hooray. :)

I feel strange posting about my life on here, because I don't really know who all is reading. Can everyone stop by via comment and introduce yourselves?

XOXO

+ my new babies! +

I HAVE AN UNREASONABLE LOVE FOR BABY PLANTS.

YES. This morning I went on the hunt for a handful of herbs to put in my windowsills. I miss gardening ohsomuch, and have no room to do so here, but indoor herbs I can manage. I've been doing my best to support local businesses recently, so I resisted the urge to default to Home Depot or Lowes, and went down the street to the ConcreteJungle in the Short North. Found my lovely thyme, lavendar, mint, oregano and rosemary and brought them home!




Dug up some cute little pot-alternatives on my weekly thrifting trip, and love them.







Also, last night I went to Wonderland with Krista. What an awesome place. I'm kind of loving Columbus this week. Shhh don't tell. :)

SO HAPPY.

+ the postal service. +

I have been developing a renewed love for the postal service. First, because Recycled Air by The Postal Service has been one of my favorite songs for six years now - I even put it on Tumblr so you can listen to it here. Secondly, my darling friend Lauren sends me the most incredible letters and packages. They are all amazingly unique, and you can check out her blog, Letters, She Wrote. Today, I came home to find this little adorable thing waiting for me, with a little canvas bag inside of it:









This new love for the postal service has also resulted in my Free Prints Wednesday project. I've only shouted about it on twitter and my tumblr so far, but will probably stick a little note in here on Wednesdays from now on. So yes, be warned. If you want a free print mailed to you, pay attention to me on Wednesdays! The first 5 people to email their snail mail address to me, after my ready-set-go, get the print. :)

+ seattle. +

this week so far:

- signed up for couch surfing
- decided to move to seattle
- realized that american's can't merge
- had a brain mri
- learned that i really enjoy ultrasounds
- also learned that doctors are useless
- realized i treat god like a boss and not a friend
- fallen in love with sunlight, again
- established a love/hate relationship with chanel
- started looking for jobs in seattle (do you live there?)
- sworn my undying love to goodwill
- hated my brain for persistently overthinking

+ remembering. +

When I was twelve, my friend had a slumber party birthday. Best friends, silly girls, sweet girls. I was shy, and worked hard to get along with the other girls. Anna was my friend, that was all I needed. I didn't understand the other girls. Cornfields, puppy, tire swing. After the day in the sun, we set up a spa in the basement to paint our nails. I was again unsettled, nervous; I'd never painted my nails. We soon discovered that I was the best. I finally fit in! All the little hands waited til I could paint their nails the best. For my own nails, I turned down every color given to me, until they got to pink. Daddy only liked pink. Pink is for ladies, I'd heard him tell my mom. Little girl pride, excitement, novelty.

A bit later, mom and dad picked me up. I wasn't allowed to spend the night; they didn't know all the other little girls. Still bubbling, I slid happily into the backseat. My hands folded in my lap, I smiled into the window at my reflection. Lauren Nicole. Yes?! Let me see your hands. Fear, panic, anxiety. I held my hands out, shaking, to show off my stubby hot pink nails with my special 'glitter dots.' Lauren. Terror. The minute you get home you will go to the bathroom and take off that horrible nail polish. But... No, Lauren. It's trashy. You are not allowed to paint your nails. I will not go to church in the morning with a daughter who looks like that. Disappointment, hurt, shame. My pretty pink color was trashy. I was trashy. Daddy didn't think I was pretty. Daddy didn't want me to have fun with all the other girls. Daddy didn't want to be seen with me. Those girls...they were trashy. Too grown up for their age. I wanted to be pretty, but pretty was wrong. Those girls were wrong. I was different, again. I wasn't allowed to fit in, again. Just me, like no one but myself, again. Plain hands, again. I cried myself to sleep.

Ten years later.

Lauren Nicole. Fear, panic, anxiety. You are miserable because you haven't repented for when you've dishonored your parents. You are the wrong type of girl. You aren't the girl your father is proud of. Disappointment, hurt, shame.Your father has never hurt you, ever. You're wrong. He's always loved you. Your father has never treated you badly. This is all your fault. It's always been my fault. Don't expect a birthday card for the fifth year in a row. You don't deserve it. You were the one that hurt your father, not the other way around. No! I was hurt! Lauren, your father won't be seen with you, ever. I'm the wrong type of girl.

---

Note: I've had two or three people ask me if it's wrong to post publicly about family issues. I want to say I'm aware of this concern, and I've wrestled with it in prayer. What I write is from the depths of my heart, and as a girl who is fighting to learn to finally speak these things, I've found a new 'letting go' and freedom in honesty of being open with past hurts. Despite everything, I love my parents very much. But this is me, my life, struggling to piece things together for myself. The encouragement I receive from all of you helps me in incredible amounts. Thank you for listening, understanding, and loving. xoxo

+ movement. girl: sold. +

spindly legs
just like the spokes
uphill
down
so much up
so much down

freckles, spindles
long and lean
clean
so much clean
so much clean

just like that
no just like this
blue
so much blue
always, always blue

eight miles
two thousand and eight miles
two thousand and five, miles
miles
so much coming
so much going

spindles sold
spindly sold
sold
not enough girl
too much, girl

girl: sold.