I’ve been super sick for the past few days but I got my voice back today (much to Victor’s chagrin) and the steroids are kicking in but not really enough to write a real post so instead I’m posting this, which I started writing a long time ago but never finished. It feels undone and not properly tied together, but in a way that makes sense because “unbalanced and disjointed” is a pretty fair description if we’re doing a realistic portrait of me anyway:
Remember a few months ago when I said I’d share the rest of the photos that my friend amazingly talented friend Brooke Shaden took of me, but then I promptly forgot?
Well, I remembered. So here they are.
This the first, which I already wrote about here.
But here are two more:
I’ll always keep them because they’re ethereal and dark and magical, but really I love them most of all because I can’t look at the pictures without remembering walking barefoot in the swamp while wearing ripped dresses that wouldn’t zip up over my boobs. Or having Brooke douse me in baby powder while my daughter gleefully looked for fireflies and Victor set off smoke bombs. Or literally falling off that log in the bottom picture while trying to adjust my antler as a baffled hiker walked by. Also, I now know why people use the phrase “as easy as falling off a log” because it is very easy, if you don’t count the hassle of stitches afterward.
It’s weird. But then, all the best things are.