I think someone was trying to recreate the graffiti that was on here before, which I've posted in the past. Not quite the same, but still better than a blank wall.

I got a letter today that reminded me of the hard work of intimacy. This will be a life-long struggle and journey for me. I have been thinking the past week or so about how I need to recenter myself and the importance of my chosen family in that process. It's still so hard for me not to crawl under a rock sometimes and just pretend I can go it alone. But I know I can't. And I'm ok with that.

I realize that 2012 is coming to a close, and I've been absent from this space for many months. I tried to revive this blog, but I seem to have failed. Instead of judging myself, however, I'm gonna shrug my shoulders and hope to be more consistent in the future. Consistently blogging, that is, not consistently absent.

2012 was a huge year for me in many respects. So much growing pains...but growth nevertheless. All in all, I am happier than I have ever been, even though there is so much uncertainty ahead of me and all around me. I'm excited for 2013...

I've been going through photos that I never got around to editing, and this one came up from 2 months ago. I was covering the Rape Victim Advocates gala fundraiser at Salvage One, and my fotohermana Claudia and I took a little break in the room of mirrors to take photos of ourselves and of each other. I had a lot on my mind that night; so much was going on in my life and in my heart. I was processing changes in a significant relationship, contemplating my present and future selves, still recuperating from the trauma of covering NATO and its related protests/actions, and completely unaware of the journey that would unfold in the next two months.

I look at this photo now with the advantage of hindsight, and I can't help but admire and respect who I see in this mirror. Even then, with so much uncertainty and confusion, so much hurt still lingering, I had begun to wrap my arms and fists around a seemingly conflicting mix of fearlessness coated in transparent vulnerability. In so doing, I pried my fingers loose from fears I never thought I would be free from--the fear of heartbreak, the fear of being known by others, the fear of loneliness--and there instead I found an inner joy--quiet yet fierce--that had been there all along.  

This is not to say that I am totally unafraid. This shedding of fear will be a lifelong process, I'm sure. The lesson that is significant to me, however, is that I am fierce enough, that I am joyful enough, that I am loving enough, that I am hopeful enough, that I am powerful enough to keep making the road and bridges while walking* and to keep choosing love in all its forms, again and again, and in so doing practice freedom and liberation.**

And of course, none of this would be possible without my community and chosen family who have surrounded me with so much love and support which I borrow and draw from when I find my own reserves insufficient. For that, I am grateful beyond words...

*"Caminante, son tus huellas
el camino, y nada más;
caminante, no hay camino,
se hace camino al andar.

Wanderer, your footsteps are
the road, and nothing more;
wanderer, there is no road,
the road is made by walking." ~ from "Proverbios y cantares XXIX" by Antonio Machado

"Caminante, no hay puentes, se hace puentes al andar. {Voyager, there are no bridges, we make our bridges as we walk.}" ~ Gloria Anzaldua

**"The moment we choose to love we begin to move against domination, against oppression. The moment we choose to love we begin to move towards freedom, to act in ways that liberate ourselves and others. That action is the testimony of love as the practice of freedom. " ~ bell hooks (Outlaw Culture)

Blanket outstretched in the shade overlooking the beach overlooking the vast deep blue of the lake. Kites zipping overhead like birds of prey hungry for a meal, sometimes crashing in the sand. A game of colorful bocce ball being played on the sand. Choppy waves keep the lifeguards in rowboats busy. Cool breeze is refreshing and welcome. 

We sit, we watch, we listen, we soak it all in, this moment that we call our lives.

We were supposed to be going to Costco to pick up prints before they closed. I looked at the sky, and I knew that the lake would be amazing, and so Costco would have to wait til the next day. I told my backseat passenger that we'd had a change of plans, and that we'd be going to the beach instead, and she started protesting loudly, that she didn't have her bathing suit. I don't use the word 'protesting' lightly, either. These were some LOUD demonstrations of her displeasure. But I knew once we were there, all would be right as rain, and so we went.

The lake was a magic pool of irridescent blues when we got there. She wasted no time jumping into what she does best, which is to play, to make believe, to sing, to dance, to laugh...No, she didn't have her bathing suit, but that didn't stop her from becoming one with the water and sand.

Watching her on the beach at sunset never gets old to me...

Dear Jhonathan,

Do you remember this photo I took of your water bottle and glasses? I think it was the first photo I took that was in some way of you. It was on our 2nd coffee meeting, almost two years ago. I was entering what has proven to be the most tumultous time of my life, one of explosive growth, extreme pain and pure joy. Somehow, the Universe connected us, and you were an integral part of that beautiful mess that I call my life.

I can't express in words what you mean to me. You are not only friend, but brother, and a fotohermano at that. Your friendship has been liberatory and life-giving on so many levels. All those hours of conversation with you where I knew I could unpack the pain of my experiences of racism and patriarchy and brokenheartedness, knowing you would provide a safe space for my anger, as well as the love and solidarity I needed to move towards healing--those times are priceless and have changed my life. You were one of the key people who kept being the mirror I needed to see myself as I am, flaws and beauty and fierceness and all. 

When you told me some months ago that you and Jenny were moving to Guatemala, I didn't let on what a blow it was to me. I had known this was coming, but I didn't know it would be so soon. Since then, I've pretty much been in denial, but the last week or so, the realization has been sinking in, and I've found myself with tears I can no longer force back in random places, like on the red line or coffeeshops or putting Cadence to sleep or when the night is quiet and I'm all alone. 

I suck at goodbyes, and I feel like I'm really sucking at writing this...I guess what I want you to know beyond a shadow of a doubt is the light that you have been in my life. Cadence and I love you and Jenny dearly, and the two of you have given me hope for love, not in the cheesy hollywood way but in the raw honest bell hooks way. And I know, too, that this is NOT goodbye, cuz let's face it, we had some really good conversations on gchat. Maybel I'll even learn how to Skype. And tweet more. Maybe.

So thank you, mi querido amigo y hermano y compañero. See you in Xela soon.

In love and struggle always,

이정아

In case you haven't noticed, I've all but given up on blogging. I was actually going to throw in the towel for good. Part of it is that I've been going through some major life changes that I wasn't ready to write about. Part of it is that I'm really busy with things that require me to not spend as much time behind the lens. Part of it is writers block. Part of it is shutterblock.

But I'm back. Again. I know, I know...soon enough I will have things to write about. And hopefully photographs to share.

For now, here's a foto that captures what's been on my mind these past months. The fight for public education in Chicago is a fierce one. I have lots to say on this, but I'll save that for another day.

And Cadence and I still found some time to get to the beach. With spring coming to Chicago, I've been unblocking my shutterblock and getting out with my camera more. I really need to do this as it's been my primary mode of self-therapy for years now.

Stay tuned...

First foto of 2012: Two of my favorite Geminis in the world.

First meal of 2012: Kung Pao Shrimp

First drink of 2012: Cheap Pilsner

First album of 2012: Black Star

First movie of 2012: Ghost Dog

First cig of 2012: 3 1/2 month old Nat Sherman Menthol

First wish upon a star of 2012: Something about friendship...

I thought I'd have it figured out by now, this "knowing yourself" business. And yet here I am, once again questioning and challenging the construct of self that I've held onto for so long. I've been stripping away the layers of how others define me, how I've been socialized to define myself, and I'm trying to piece it all back together again. I am learning to embrace my unfinishedness and to walk comfortably with the idea that my identify is more fluid and flexible than I give it credit for and that I will never be done with the work of self-discovery and reflection...

+++++++++++++++++++

I wrote a version of the post above for Shutter Sisters yesterday. These thoughts were spurred by two separate conversations I had Sunday with a couple of my friends. I never expected to have these conversations, mainly because there are some aspects of my identity that I had just accepted my whole life without questioning whether they were the real me or not. Recently, however, I've found myself being unsure, and that's where I am now. Unsure about so much. And I'm actually ok with that. I am also aware that this is possible because of the safe space I operate in within my community, something I know I'm incredibly lucky and blessed to have.

I'm seeking wholeness and authenticity. I know it will require radically changing the way I view myself. I don't know where I'm going with all this, but I'm sooo grateful for those who have been beautifully supportive--old friends and brand new ones.

Today, Cadence turns 7. It hardly seems possible to me. Those days and nights of nursing and dancing and singing her back to sleep don't seem that distant in the past. I can still hear her toddler voice squealing and babbling away. And it wasn't so long ago that I was seeing her off on her first day of kindergarten.

And look at her now. She looks like she's posing for her senior portraits. I already see in her glimpses of the person she is growing up to be, and I can honestly say that I totally look up to this child.

Cadence is definitely a force to be reckoned with. She has singlehandedly turned my life upside down and rightside up, and I would not be the person I am today if it weren't for her presence in my life.

Happy 7th bday, Cadence!