On Motherhood & Sanity


Monday, November 20, 2017

elongated bodies, transitions series


double click to enlarge

Time is transforming my child. It is stretching his limbs as much as  his mind. 
He slowly morphs into an entirely new beast right before my eyes...  

Friday, November 17, 2017

The big ONE-O



this little guy is turning ten years old today.... where oh where did time go? 

Wednesday, November 15, 2017

dream of turtles, October family self portrait



The family self portrait  project started in January 2011. 
I take one portrait of the whole family, myself included, once a month.  
In late 2013 a "ghost" writer joined the initiative and now each photo is accompanied by a poem.
In 2015 the kids started collaborating and introducing their own ideas
...the project has a life of its own

also,
Every family should do this. It's an amazing record of the little things that matter


To see previous months click on the links below:



2017
2016

Tuesday, November 14, 2017

November family self portrait, Cambutal beach



The family self portrait  project started in January 2011. 
I take one portrait of the whole family, myself included, once a month.  
In late 2013 a "ghost" writer joined the initiative and now each photo is accompanied by a poem.
In 2015 the kids started collaborating and introducing their own ideas
...the project has a life of its own

also,
Every family should do this. It's an amazing record of the little things that matter


To see previous months click on the links below:



2017
2016

Tuesday, October 17, 2017

Tuesday, August 22, 2017

my secret


Part of the Transitions series which looks at the gap between childhood and adolescence 

Friday, July 14, 2017

In case you wanted to complain about how much your job sucks

just sayin'
It's friday. the temptation is there. god knows I feel it. but yeah, it could be worse.... 

Thursday, July 13, 2017

beasts within and the merry go round








Fear, anxiety, vertigo.
A black hole opens inside me with no previous warning.
Just the music from the merry go round reminding me of my demons.
Reminding me of the dark hole at my center where beasts live.
beasts that must be appeased, sang to and distracted,
Beasts with a never ending desire for blood,
my blood.

Night falls. The heavy traffic stops,
and with the silence comes fear.
Maybe she was there all along, but it is only now I can hear her.
Quietly she whispers possibilities into my ear
‘Anything can and will happen.
Any day, any moment can be the last
 of life, as you know it.’

Holding her hand is gratefulness.
For every breath and every mundane routine.
Every memory made and not wasted.
She is dancing to the music of the merry go round.
‘dance’ she sais to me ‘dance while we still have feet and a ground to stand on’

Morning comes with a bitter aftertaste of too much wine
Which I don’t remember tasting.
Coffee and biscuits dipped in a nagging feeling of something left undone,
of lives unlived and dreams that must be forgotten.
Anchors raised, the boat is left to wonder at the mercy of the sea.
No more resistance.

Washed away by the morning tide, all trace of dancing has been erased.
The smell of regret lingers on my fingers like old cigarettes.
I don’t remember what I regret,
but close my eyes and breathe in deep the smell of the sea.
The cool morning breeze mixed with memories wraps around me.
In the distance I can hear the sound of life going about its business,
cleaning dishes or taking out the garbage,
disturbing the silence which is trying to speak to me, to remind me.
Of what? I know not

An ever so light memory of the music lingers in the air
For the most part the day is silent now, the beasts appeased.
They’ll come again unannounced and without prior warning.
In the meantime, and without knowing quite why,
 I get up and keep on dancing