I don’t know who I am without this pain, without this aching for what is gone, what is broken. I do want to find out.

I realize a lot of the same things over and over again, a little deeper each time, don’t I?

I don’t have to hold onto some static version of myself.

There’s hope in uncertainty, isn’t there?

Reflecting on a song by Orla Gartland, how the only way forward is through (not around), and the concept of grief titration.

What would it mean to let myself shine?

If I keep trying to “catch up,” I will keep feeling like I’m trying to catch up because that’s exactly what I’m doing.

This sculpture is me reflecting on the simultaneous beauty and utter horror of humanity.

A perpetually changing, ever shifting magical puzzle that’s the fabric of our universe and allows us to exist even for a little while? Woah!

Sometimes, I write in poetry (and sing and paint) because not having to make sense is the only thing that makes any sense to me.

I tell myself that something bad will happen if I’m honest. But it’s not about what might happen. It’s about what already happened.

I’m trying to accept that there’s no cure for unanswered questions.

The truth is not an object that can be measured with a ruler. The truth is felt in the body.

To heal, I’ve had to learn that not everyone wants me to hide my truth and go into survival mode all the time.

Reality is what it is. It sucks sometimes! Yet, how things are is NOT the limit of what’s possible.

Our dreams matter. Collectively, our dreams hold to the keys to a more kind, peaceful, joyful, compassionate, loving humankind.

You heard whispers among the trees and called out, “Who’s there?”

Why does Halloween exist? Is it because our humanness allows us to find a way to transform our fears into something fun, goofy, beautiful?

It’s all real. And, sometimes, just that realness feels enough.

Such a simple thing, learning that I matter.