1.25.2013

4/52

Week three four and I'm already at odds with myself over this new project. What if I just don't have any shareable thoughts or stories? Do I default to old habits and give the scattered highlight list that caters to my fragmented way of organizing my thoughts? I might not be able to improve on that process like I had hoped.  Maybe I was on to something there, that really is what I do best.  Organizing.  Making things come together in a cohesive blend.
Three Friday afternoons ago I stood at the top of this hill, snow whispering around me making it seem like there was nothing else out there but me and the snow. My roommate was still making her way towards me with her sled so I sat there on my plastic saucer and wished for a moment that my thoughts were as clear and peaceful as the hushed moment I found myself in. In that moment I was smiling and comfortable in my own skin. Something that has always been a reoccurring theme in my life when I stop mid moment and smile to myself for recognizing the blessing of being alive.  But this seems to be a commodity these days since half the time I want to unzip this skin I wear and walk out refreshed as an improved version of me. One that finds herself at the top of a hill with a sled in a snowstorm more often. 
I shoved off the ledge and flew down the hill, powder flying into my eyes, my ears, down my coat, making it impossible to see anything at all. I closed my eyes not caring if I ran into the pine tree at the bottom one little bit thinking it would only add to the experience to have the pine needles rain down on me.  I laid there at the bottom of the hill laughing, covered in snow, looking up at the sky watching the flakes come down. Looking at it from that angle, the flurry wasn't as clear and peaceful as it seemed to be from the top of the hill. Maybe it was the experience between the two moments that changed what I saw? The exhilarating, speeding ride down the hill with my eyes shut.  Thoroughly enjoying the shocking cold on my hot skin and the feeling of letting go.  Juxtaposed: reflecting on my place in the world.  And actually experiencing it.
 My parents were in town this last weekend and we had so much fun together.  Wandering around in their pretty new car {aka my dream car talking and enjoying each other.  We drove to Park City and got right in the thick of Sundance.  We even got to sit in a traffic jam created by the jilted camel who was robbed the chance to be a film star.  We worried about the camel and what he thought of the freezing weather but I'm sure he couldn't feel it what with being busy protesting and all.

 And how about this fun project I mentioned in the last post {the one with a fog machine}
I stole this image from RC1.

3 comments:

  1. Such an odd combination of photos. First a mangy, old camel and then a smoothly, sophisticated JMR. I never know what I am going to get when I click onto your blog, but I love it. Where is the photo of the hot, new car I keep hearing about?

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  2. You're the most beautiful bride I've ever seen. I love the picture of Grandma and Uncle Terry. I want to see the car too. Or at least know what kind it is. I adore sledding.

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  3. Is it just me, or does your head look out of proportion with the rest of your body? Please tell me there is some photoshopping at work and your waist is not really that small. Or I just might have to go eat more chocolate. And cheese. And ice cream.

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