fragments / no2 / rushing

Thursday, February 19, 2015

Rushing


It was the new grass that had sprung from the damp earth, the tiny green strands striving towards the sky. Also there were those granules of sand that clung, always, to the kitchen floor. That silk slip draped over the bedroom door handle, the color of the sea before the storm. There were the open windows in the living room, the piles of books and magazines stacked in all the corners, half finished and abandoned. Two separate sets of shoes flung off one night and left under the coffee table, in front of that deep and cushy couch. (It looked like an oddly misshaped potato.)

Then of course there was the sky, the garden path, the light that changed from dawn to afternoon to dusk. There were the clouds rolling in and out, tinged with the sun behind them. The faint sound of something rushing in the distance, the cool slate stones leading back to the front door.



_______________
One of my goals for 2015 is to write everyday, with a particular emphasis on writing fiction. Thank you for reading along and sticking with me while I practice putting stories and words onto the page.

learning to survive

Tuesday, February 17, 2015

from 2012 Brittany, constantly having to reload the beginnings of her film.
I have this thing that I've mentioned before, about not talking about my job here on the blog. It makes complete sense. This is a personal blog, and obviously I have personal feelings about my job, but those personal feelings aren't always professional to share on the internet where everyone can see and read them.

It can be a bit lonely though. When I started blogging here I was a full time student and I could share 100% of my life here if I wanted to. A blog is not a full picture of a life, ever, but the important parts of my life were usually reflected here. Sometimes the really hard and really personal parts were bared for everyone. (Or just bared for my tiny group of readers.)

Since I graduated so much of my time and mental energy has been put into employment. Into finding a job, keeping a job, and generally figuring out how to survive. It has taken up so much of the past year and a half. I just did my taxes and I had five W-2's sent to me for 2014. Five! Obviously my transition into quasi-adulthood hasn't been the most graceful.

When I was still in school, I wrote this post about having anxiety about the future: One second I feel like the whole world is ahead of me and I can have and do anything I want to. Then another second I feel like crawling into a dark hole (my covers) and hiding from all my responsibilities. Somehow, I'll get through this. I just wish I knew how right now.

I (still) don't know what I want to do with the rest of my life. Just like 2012 Brittany I know that I'll get through this. But also like 2012 Brittany, I just wish I knew how.

Right now, I'm employed. I won't go into the details of my job, except to say that it's not what I want to be doing with the rest of my life. Right now, I don't have a ton of time to make art or pursue writing more seriously. (More importantly, I don't have a lot of mental space to pursue these things. i.e. I'm stressed out.) I know those are the important things. (If money were no object...) However, I also know that I have to make money somehow, that I have to survive and not sink into depression/lose my spirit/have daily anxiety in the process. Right now, I am at a loss, feeling generally like a damp washcloth that has been wrung out too many times.

I'm not sure where I'm going with this, or how to end this post. I don't have some shiny motivational note to end on. I know that this change and this transition has to come from within. As much as I would like someone to tell me exactly what path to take, that just isn't going to happen. (Although feel free to leave some very solicited advice in the comment section, you guys, seriously.) I can only hope that in two years 2017 Brittany is reading this post knowing that I pushed through towards something worthwhile, something I'm happy doing, something fulfilling. (Or at the very least, something that allows me to buy a house. Just kidding. Sort of.) 

A series of choices

Saturday, February 14, 2015



It's been a while since I've really dug in deep and wrote about my relationship with Steele. That used to happen all the time. But lately, it hasn't felt as necessary. Each post would be things are good, things are good, things are good.

We've been growing up, and let me tell you, growing up does not always correlate so nicely with being in a relationship. It's why they always tell you that people don't end up with their high school sweethearts. They always tell you that you have to learn how to be a person first before you can be in a serious relationship. They tell you that things will change, that you'll change as people, and not always at the same pace.

Well, they're right.

It's funny, I've been with Steele for over 7 years, but I feel like I've had so many different relationships with him. We've gone through multiple life cycles as we've aged from teenagers to (mostly) functioning humans in the adult world.

There were so many growing pains. The kind of growing pains where I thought I was growing right out of my own skin. There were a lot of forks in the road. Forks where we could have given up, walked away, turned hard and bitter, eaten each other alive. Sometimes it feels like a dream that we've ended up on this path together still. Then I remember that it's not a dream, it was a choice. A series of choices really, just choosing again and again to stay together and face those growing pains as a pair.

Right now, today, I've never felt more certain. And that certainty has taken years and years to build. To be able to write that sentence is a huge, huge thing for me. I'm sure the growth cycle will continue. That there will be hard times, scary times, and dull times. But this is the most important thing I believe deeply: We will always be growing together and back again.




(The top image was shot on the Mamiya C330 on the summit of Mt. Ashland. The bottom images are 35mm from the past year and a half, shot with the Pentax K1000)

things about this photograph

Thursday, February 5, 2015

Things about this photograph:

Passing car
Dusk sky
Dusk clouds
Telephone crossing
(in empty space for miles and miles)
The shutter clicked at precisely the wrong moment
Orange headlight glow
Standing on the side of the road
Holding my breath
Standing still
Pressing the shutter
Cloud drive by
Exhale.

fragments / no. 1 / raspberries

Wednesday, February 4, 2015


Raspberries


I watched as all the liquid absorbed into the towel. It was a small puddle, but still, I was down on my hands and knees with a blue towel, wiping it up. Afterwards, I pushed back and sat against the lower cabinets. I held the soggy towel in my hand and traced the grout between the tiles. I sighed. It was time for me to apologize, time for me to admit I was wrong. I had stolen something from you. It wasn't until much later that I realized in the act of theft, I had also stolen something from myself.

It was that day we spent in your bedroom. It was a mid-summer thunderstorm and the clouds were dark and thick—like a piece of felt had been placed over us and we got to hide for a day. (In retrospect, that's probably why I had the impulse.) You left to get us  bowl of raspberries. It was while you were gone that I took it. You came back with the fruit, and we stained our fingertips and then our mouths, and you left hot pink marks up my legs where your lips had been. The clouds were still dark. I was still hiding.

I walked home later, the smell of rain and the kind of dampness that makes the whole world seem settled. When you found out what I'd taken you didn't talk to me again.




_______________
One of my big goals for 2015 is to write everyday, with a particular emphasis on writing fiction. I hope to post a fragment of this work around once a week. Being a novelist is a goal I'm hesitant to put into words, mostly out of fear, but I'm doing it anyways. Thank you for reading along and sticking with me while I practice putting stories and words onto the page.