this is what i wear, just about every other day. these jeans, with paint all over them, torn at the bottom and here and there, are my favorite. they’re old gap jeans, too big, but comfy and perfect for days spent in the studio. just the other day john spray-painted a heart on the back pocket of these very jeans. so now i am wearing a heart shaped memento, courtesy of my dear one, on my booty.
i’ve been listening to deb talan most of the day (as i paint and write and paint and write) and there is something about her that makes me contemplative. i’ve been thinking about my own vulnerabilities. about how learning to embrace all the bits and pieces of it has really felt empowering to me which has been such an unexpected lesson. embracing my vulnerability, to me, means expressing my life outwardly and honestly. this means sharing (and owning, not diluting) my joys and my struggles. it means telling someone what i love about them, even if i risk sounding like a dork. it means having delicate conversations with my man where i can express my fears, my dreams, my hopes. it means crying when i need to cry and maybe talking about that with another girlfriend. it means saying out loud to the universe what i really want, even if that want changes tomorrow. it means telling my story, even if telling it feels awkward. it means putting my truth out into the universe at the risk of feeling exposed. it means doing the very things i fear. it, in the most simplest ways, means being honest, letting the contents of my heart spill into into they way i see myself and how i relate to others. it doesn’t mean, as a friend and i were discussing the other day, that i am weak, or that i invite hurt or drama into my life. being vulnerable doesn’t have to mean either of those things. instead, it’s our strength calling us, to pay attention, to be ok with all the ebbs and flows of emotion. to celebrate that. to say it out loud.