Re. Joy - Jan 12 - working it out

I've been outside a lot. Reading. Soaking up sunshine. Thinking. Journaling.
Today was beautiful outside, but I spent it inside. I took my tools and went to my dad's design studio to use a room in his building that was once offered to me as a studio. It's quiet there. Lots of natural light, clean floor space and a great table. A room of my own.
Today I sewed for most of my day - other than having lunch with both of my parents. I was hoping to find a way in fabric to express this chaos I have walked through.

This piece is big and jarring to look at. That was intended. It's stressful looking. Also intended. It's dissonant. It's an unsolved question. It's hard to figure out how to place it properly. But, it's only a piece of the puzzle. Only a section of a larger whole. It's quite cathartic, too. Now I will work with it's placement into context.
I have to also look at my personal circumstances. As chaotic and inexplicable as they may be, they have to somehow become placed into context. They are not the big picture. They are just a piece of a big picture. I'm knee deep in fallout now, but I know there will be a bigger, more
peaceful framework around this later. And given some breathing room, it won't hurt as much as it does now.

Re-building joy - Jan 11

Jan 11. I spent it with my dear friend (and maid of honor, 12 years ago!), Amy. Ironically, Amy lives in Thailand, but passes through LA a couple times a year and as such, I see her more than any other long-distance friend of mine. She always seems to be passing through during big events... She was here the day after Z was born, the day after G arrived... So many amazing moments.
We spent the morning on a hike in Bronson canyon. (you can see the Hollywood sign behind us in that photo we took of ourselves)... It was quiet, and we laughed remembering a lot of hikes together over the years. Hikes during college in Malibu, which often took pause by trees as I sketched or took photos and Amy spread out her homework....

Hikes we've taken together in Idaho, Israel (daily home through a forest, from the archeological dig we worked on for a summer), and in Thailand when I visited her...
If there is one person in the world that I know how to be quiet with, it's Amy.

She texted this morning, saying she wished she had the right words to say. But the people I am enjoying the most right now are not the ones trying to be encouraging, finding the right things to say. The most safe people I have found now are the ones who admit that they are at a loss for words and are willing to allow the silence and unfinished sentences and unanswered questions to be a part of our encounter.
Those are the people that I am surrounding myself with these days. Those are the friends I am having lunch with. And I love them for that.
I love a friend who knows that sometimes silent presence or willingness to walk into my pain and confusion is the best thing they can offer.
You all know who you are. You friends who have emailed with me, texted, hugged, shed tears, left cookies on my porch, mailed little packages, all of it. I am surviving because I know you are not afraid of my pain. You aren't trying to fix anything or say the right thing and you love me right where I am at.