Tuesday, July 11, 2017
As a child, I looked at my family's old wedding albums, and it was impossible for me to believe that the hopeful, young bride in the photos was the same white-haired woman I knew as my grandmother. How sad, I thought, to grow old.
But, as I have arrived at late middle age, I understand: Now, looking carefully at photos of my grandmother when she was well into her 80s, I can see the same young bride in her eyes. And though I no longer look like the young woman in this blustery photo, it doesn't matter at all, because my heart is just the same – Wild, brave, excited, afraid, and full of hope.
So now, I write an open letter to myself at age 25, on the occasion of turning 50.
Worry less about how you look, worry more about how you love. Don’t wonder if you’re doing it “right”; it doesn’t matter. Respect yourself in all ways, and walk away from anyone who doesn’t do the same. Do not let grief define you; honor those you’ve lost by living every moment with an open heart.
5 days ago
𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺 Brooch in progress. Vitreous enamel; hand painted, torch fired. This is one of a series of art jewelry pieces incorporating dead, flightless, and falling birds. I designed these pieces to provoke a strong sense of compassion and charity; they are my response to a pervasive callousness, a call for empathy for others.