Author: AmberšŸ’˜

Being born and raised in the south should have made me more inbred and less tolerant, but something went wrong in the grand scheme of these damned rebels. I am; brutally honest, a bad driver with a record to prove it, a connoisseur of stand-up comedy, the eldest child, an aware procrastinator, semi-sweet, the result of my mother losing her virginity, easily excitable, a lover of music, a pretty shit liar, late to any event no matter what, myself without apology.

When I am happy

I donā€™t write as often when Iā€™m happy.

I wish that I did.

But my year has been too full: of love, of travel, of laughter, and art, and good food, and music, and kids, and fair weather, and friendship, and pink skies and just so much goodness. I am so blessed to sit in the light of all this joy.

I wish I could share it all with you, but I like to catch my moments of delight in pictures. After all each one is worth at least 1000 words. ā˜ŗļø

my sun doesnā€™t shine and my moon doesnā€™t rise without you.

No twinkling lights splatter across the inky abyss, no meteors soar or stars shoot.

Your love makes me certain that there are bits of heaven tucked away in this hellscape.

It gives me hope and makes me sing louder, dance harder.

We melt together when we hold each other; the flesh surrounding us is warm and soft and tender, but it keeps us farther apart than we care to be.

Luckily our souls know no such bounds & our energies collide.

And I am safe.

I am full.

I am seen & elevated & made more by and for your love.

A Letter to Agnes DeMille by Martha Graham

A Letter to Agnes DeMille by Martha Graham

There is a vitality, a life force, a quickening
that is translated through you into action,
and because there is only one of you in all time,
this expression is unique.

If you block it,
it will never exist through any other medium
and be lost.
The world will not have it.
It is not your business to determine how good it is;
nor how valuable it is;
nor how it compares with other expressions.
It is your business to keep it yours, clearly and directly,
to keep the channel open.

You do not even have to believe in yourself or your work.
You have to keep open and aware directly
of the urges that motivate you.

Keep the channel open.
No artist is pleased.
There is no satisfaction whatever at any time.
There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction;
a blessed unrest that keeps us marching
and makes us more alive than the others.

Imposter syndrome

I think that the entire reason I worked to get my degree was to fight my imposter syndrome.

I had to achieve a bachelors of fine arts from a state university before I could really say that Iā€™m an artist.

Now I donā€™t believe that for other peopleā€¦ not in the least. Anyone can be an artist.

I guess the difference is that I know where I came from. ā€œiā€™m polished white trashā€œ I just always joke. Maybe iā€™ve been recycled.

I think I needed that stupid piece of paper to take myself seriously. So now I can really say it. I am a trained artist!

But it feels strange; I wish it were more comfortable.

Maybe Iā€™ll grow into it.

A Great Love

Each clear, fine night the Moon glows her bright beaming reflection onto the surface of the Sea. Most nights the Sea gleams the light back and they quietly smile & whisper to one another.

But the Sea isnā€™t steady like the Moon. The Moon is older and wiser than the Sea. She already knows her importance and place on high. The unruly Sea tosses and turns, ever changing and feeling like she is too much for this world, too watery, too deep. This troubles the Moon.

Wanting to keep her companion shining too, the Moon takes a great, deep breath and inhales a passing Cloud; when she blows it out, the Sea swirls beneath her feeling dizzy and moved. As the Moon exhales the Cloud forms a dense, heavy, warm Fog.

And it is fate; the Fog loves the Sea. She recognizes herself in the Sea. And the Sea feels at peace and seen in the Fog. The Fog listens more closely and holds the Sea ever nearer; cheek to cheek they sway until the Sun rises and they can hold each other no more.

Each day the Sea waits for her lover to hold her ever near. And the Moon smiles.