Reflections: “tightrope highwire”

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Deep Thoughts, Love, reflections, relations

Is it possible to fall in love again?

The kind of emotions that take your breath away when you realize they still exist.

When do you realize there is a possibility?

Is it when that first kiss makes the world around you stop, and four minutes later you both realize it’s just the first date?

Is it when you realize you not only opened the restaurant for dinner, but closed the bar, the whole time wrapped up in each other like newlyweds?

Or perhaps when you watch him show off his various works of art and points of professional achievement, puffing up like a proud peacock, and rightfully so. You are anything but bored, and are fascinated by the working of this other persons brain.

Maybe when you look across the room at him and realize that the ache deep down inside that has been hurting for so long is starting to subside. Not because of someone else but because you look down and see that the wounds of the past are faded to scars.

There are many things we look for in love. Not just a long term relationship, but a forever future. A couple needs to be compatible on multiple levels and really be someone you can grow and grow old with. Someone to share all the incidentals of life with. Your lover. Your confidant. Your honeybunchsugarplum. Your best friend. The person who will be honest with you no matter what, even if you are having fat day and your hair looks like crap.

We give people chances to be that person in our lives and ourselves in theirs. Sometimes you realize a week in that it’s just better to cut bait quick before it gets anymore tangled, or you give it a few months and work out some bumps. Either way each party knows their deal breakers and it’s best to knock those suckers out quick in my humble opinion before you waste a year of your life on what will just end up being a shoe box of memories.

When my last marriage died I lost my husband, one of my best friends, my comic relief, my sunshine, my hero, my love.  It was excruciating. I missed having that connection and I wanted it back so badly. I had a lot of healing to go through both mentally, emotionally and physically, and a lot of growing up I had to do. I stupidly tried everything I could think of while the wreckage of what was the fairy tale was burning all around me. Nothing could or even would be able to fix it. There comes a point in life when you just have to survey the wreckage, take notes and move on. Staring at the flames of the plane crash isn’t going to do anything but dry out your skin and make your eyes itchy.

It’s been a long road. I’m at a point in my life where I have so much love to give. So much laughter and smiles to share. A passion for life and learning. I have identified things I need, things I want, and of course “panty droppers”. I’ve stepped out on that tightrope highwire of love a few times and been scared to death. It’s a long fall and it’s so easy to get hurt. If you want to have a relationship work you can’t just give it 90%, it’s going to take 110%+ and from both people. Just when you think you have identified a “low-risk” candidate something comes along and makes you realize it’s not the wisest investment even though it’s categorized as a “low risk”.  One goes running back to the safety of the platform, having your muscles shake in terror as you look down realize you could have fallen and there was no safety net to catch you.

Then leave it to me to have a “high risk” investment come by, and I being the hopeless romantic say “what the hell” and step on that highwire. My muscles shaking in terror and I hoping that the clowns in the ground crew put up a safety net just in case my partner on the other side of the tightrope isn’t able to meet me in the middle. I’m holding my breath… I don’t want to fall alone again.

Here’s the catch…. you don’t have to have a “safety net” or someone on the other side of the wire to catch you, you can catch yourself.

Tired and Blessed Redhead

Made a whirlwind trip to Nashville to work with one of my favorite photographers Oleg Volk. I’m sore as I always am after a Oleg shoot. (you try balancing / crouching / holding a pose in heels for many hours and see how you feel!) There will be more images posted soon.

I was thinking this evening about blessings, I am very blessed in many ways. One of the odd ways I count myself blessed is that I can continue modeling, one of the things I love to do, and I don’t have to be naked or wearing buttfloss to do it. It may not be something that everyone understands, but I’m following my bliss.

I’m also blessed with great photographers who respect my boundaries and are willing to work within them, something that is becoming increasingly rare, as is the photographers professional treatment before/during/after the shoot with the model. It’s a profession, not a “guys club”.

Off my soapbox now. Love the first two shots out of the gate.

http://olegvolk.net/blog/

 

 

 

In Reflection of My Past

You know you are Jewish. Not in practice, but your heritage tells you that you are. You are knowledgeable as to the hell rained down upon what we have all be taught are G-d’s chosen people since the time the Egyptians banished the Jews across the desert  and red sea to what is now Israel.   You studied  about World War II, and amongst the ignorant of today’s world, the Holocaust unable to tear yourself away from the horrors that would unfold in front of your eyes, knowing that you are only here today because of your ancestors survival. You tell yourself in your head that you would have used your wits and outsmarted the Nazis as if that would have eve been possible to do in the first place. That you would have escaped, that you have a Christmas tree, were raised in a Christian school, and sang in the church choir. You would not have been among the six million, that you have never professed your allegiance to Israel.

Image by Oleg Volk

Then you look in the mirror: and see your red hair, a larger nose (that is a typical sterootype) , your pronounced cheeks, and in general your lack of Goyishness. You too would have worn the Star of David, you too would have marched in under “Arbeit Marcht Frei”. You cannot escape your history, your DNA, you cannot escape your own reflection nor should you.

Image by Oleg Volk

Unexpected Small Things

There are some days when your faith in the human race is restored. This is refreshing and even better when it’s unexpected. It doesn’t take a lot, to “pay it forward” just something small and polite.

I was attempting to get my mobile office set up at Krystal (gotta love their fries and free wifi) and went to plug in my laptop (as she’s getting older and won’t run off it’s own battery anymore, she’s got to be plugged in.) Anyways, so I cleaned off my chosen table and went to go plug her in, the cord wouldn’t reach. There was one table between me and the outlet, and this guy was sitting there. He looked up and asked if I wanted to trade. How nice! I know it was just a small gesture but so few people actually have their eyes open anymore to anything else going on around them it’s just nice to see. So needless to say I ended up with the table closest to the outlet and met a nice Chattanoogan.

And yes. I made sure to say thank you. Manners and civility are not lost in our society completely.

Tolerance

Our society has so many views of sexuality. We ourselves are afraid of our own sexuality so much so that we hide who we truly are from those closest to us. This begs to have the question asked: why?

Because deep down inside becoming comfortable in our own sexuality, not our orientation, but the essence of our sexuality is something many aren’t able to accomplish until they are older. There is the ruse of the confidence of youth that covers a lot of misconceptions. From a early age we are brought up inadvertently not to be different from the crowd, but to seek acceptance. Most of the time this is applied to all facets of our lives, it’s inevitable.

Early on in life we go with the crowd, we seek to be “popular” or just not get our butts kicked on the playground. This “playground” enlarges to a much bigger scale as we are pushed out of the fold and into the real world where there are a lot of hard choices to make. I’m not talking about just where you are going to live, or what your career is going to be, but who you are going to affiliate yourself with in a romantic manner.

It boils down to fear of rejection, on multiple levels. We are afraid of rejection from our from our friends, from our workplaces, from our community as a whole. Sometimes it’s a self-preservation tactic to keep a level of peace in our lives that is deemed necessary for some reason or another, it may be big or small but up to the individual to make the choice as to how they handle accepting themselves before they ever come out.

It’s called “tolerance”. Perhaps one day it will be more of a activity as opposed to just another word in the dictionary. Just because someone chooses a different path, and one that someone else might see as “odd” doesn’t make it okay to belittle them and tell them it’s wrong.

We were put on this earth to love, not hate.

 

Let me make the following clear:

I am a Christian. I am Straight.  I am a Parent. I am a Republican. I am a tax payer. I am a community volunteer. I am a woman. I support those in the Gay, Lesbian, Bi-Sexual and Transgendered community. If someone wants to “make a mountain out of  molehill” then have fun.