Kidnapping Astronauts

Sometimes I have crazy dreams. Like astronauts kidnapping me. I woke up last night at one and was absolutely sure that there was an astronaut in my room trying to steal me away in the night. I finally came to and immediately texted a friend because I knew I would forget that weirdness and I had to share with someone. It still took me a bit to fall back asleep, I kept seeing  heads with massive astronaut helmets on.

I never should have fallen back asleep though, because the next dream was even crazier than the first. It started out with my sister and I being pulled over by the FBI, who informed us that her husband was under investigation for dealing drugs and that we needed to cooperate. We exchanged un-pleasantries and then headed home. We got to our house and found a stick of butter on the front step. From the FBI. With a secret inscription. Asking us if we will cooperate. We wouldn't. We knew her husband was innocent. So I scratched an inscription into another stick of butter, but I couldn't place it on the FBI's doorstep because they were out front on the porch. Instead, I ran down the block and proceeded to climb over the back wall of a house and follow it down to the backyard of the FBI headquarters. I had to avoid dogs attacking me and pretending like no one could hear their barking. When I got to the FBI HQ, I climbed up onto the roof of the house, lowered myself down onto the front porch, hit the doorbell and then ran like the wind to get back to the fence/wall and sprinted haphazardly down the block to get away before they could catch me.

That's all I can remember now.

Kidnapping Astronauts.

And Federal Agents. With butter.

The Craziness in My Head

I often begin writing something and then stow it away to edit and revise; saved as a draft, a slip of paper, a journal entry. It isn't more than a month later, generally, that I will revisit it, only to realize that it is perfect just as it is. That when it was first fresh in my mind was when it was best, at its finest.

So yes, often times I finally post things far over due, they sit in a sort of box on the shelf of my mind until I finally get the gumption to throw them out into the world and say, "Ok, so here's me. And what I'm thinking and feeling."

Thankfully it goes over better than I expect most times. But that's because you guys are all amazing and willing to put up with the craziness in my head.

Love is complicated

Life doesn't always give us what we want nor expect. Love is complicated for those who love much. For the brave in heart, the vulnerable, the ones who take the leaps of faith - they're the ones who get the rough seas, the ones who get the hardest climbs. God knows they need it, so that when the truth comes, they won't take it for granted. They won't forget how long they had to wait, how many hearts they had to break and how many times their own hearts had to be scarred before they found true love.

Don't Disappear

Write more. Fall apart in the arms of your own words. Bring to life the love that you understand. The one where people tell each other everything and don't hold back their stories and dreams. Where they open up their hearts without fear of not being wanted; risking it. Understand your own story and share it with someone else so they can see the real you. Because if not, you might disappear. If no one can see the real you and love you, then you might fade away into the shadows and never be known and loved for what and whoever you are.

Current music obsession

I love this photo.

And this album.

Lavender Fields Photo Shoot

 About a month or so ago, I was asked to model in a photo shoot down at the Young Living Family Farm in Mona, UT where they have their beautiful lavender fields. Here are a just a few shots from the shoot:

(P.S. It was extremely windy that day, hence why my hair is all over the place).

Photos by Camilla Myrrha Photography
Makeup by Kali Wengreen

The After Thought

I took her in my hands and clawed,

scraped off the weeds and thorns

that suffocated

her fragile breath.

I ripped off the flaking skin,

dead long ago.

Tore away the charred ashes

of broken hearts that clung to her limbs.

And as I did,

the blood of her sins

soaked anew her quivering frame.

I pushed back the stinging tears

falling into her gaping wounds,

and then I just let her bleed.

I took her in my hands again

and trimmed.

I carved her down

until I found

the cage that was her heart.

But when I opened up the door,

there was no precious flower.

Nothing but a dreary cave,

where once was kept

a black soul.