in response to my last post: i believe in acceptance. i believe in accepting our own limitations, the things we would not (and could not) want to change about ourselves. i believe we all come from our own unique story, built in part from the fragments of the stories of the people in our lives (one collective story). i believe, too, in accepting those stories. but i also believe in healing and change and growth. like everyone else, my personal journey has been built upon so many layers. layers which one by one make up the whole of my self. i am grateful for all of it, the painful layers, too for i am made up of all of these parts, good and bad. but what i suppose i was trying to express was that it feels inauthentic when i (and others) want to explain away hurtful patterns to the depths of these layers without digging deeper within myself and asking what part i play in the future of these layers, these patterns. what can i change? and what do i filter out to acceptance? it’s one thing to accept ourselves for who we are when it’s us alone, but it’s another to accept what are potentially hurtful things about ourselves that we impress upon those in our lives. like everyone else in the world who struggles with searching, finding, loving, and growing, i struggle with this.
i spent several hours in the city today with mati rose. i heart this woman and our growing, bounding friendship. i wonder sometimes how we must look to strangers nearby. we are a couple of girls caught up in frenetic, passionate conversation that streams in and out of delightful tangents. there is a lot to say. later in the evening, we went to an art opening for her friend lisa. it was nice/interesting to observe a san fran crowd in action. hipsters everywhere. on the walk home from the show, through the mission, with snicker bars in hand, i wondered if i could live here, you know, like for real, without the plan to return to portland. it’s a strange feeling, this feeling of this place becoming home.
Hi, I'm Kelly Rae Roberts!
Before I picked up my first paintbrush at the age of 30, I was a medical social worker. I followed my whispers and started playing with paint and everything changed.
Now I’m a full-time artist, author and Possibilitarian, who helps women explore and nourish their creative souls.
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