I was born in the south; Corpus Christi, Texas.
I loved the humid nights, Cicada sounds wafting rhythmically through unlocked screen doors...my grandma’s fig tree that crawled with little chameleons...smiley people and the way folks would “reckon it was yonder”.
I grew up in the midwest: Chicago, Illinois. It overwhelmed and scared me, mostly. Honking horns, pompous sky scrapers and wind chills. Dirty snow piles from salt ruined cars- ugly like the laughter from school kids making fun of me for my hand-me-downs, my too -loud- laugh and my teenage weight gain. I loved the Cubs and Bears and Bulls and the art museum but wound up (rather successfully) stopping eating for a few horrific years.
I landed in the Pacific Northwest where I planted my feet and felt the roots grow underneath them. I love the mountains and the ocean. This is where my soul took its shoes off, and squished its toes into the sand. It caught it’s breathe and slowly exhaled. My children. My husband.
This photo reminds me of where I’ve been and how far I’ve come and how thankful I am for it ALL. Above all I’m thankful for my faith -that was with me like a stowaway hidden in every suitcase- and the way it tucks me into my covers at night whether I’m afraid, sad or on top of the world.