Robinson's Words

"There was more to it, of course. For me writing has always felt like praying, even when I wasnt writing prayers, as I was often enough. You feel that you are with someone. I feel I am with you now, whatever that can mean, considering that you're only a little fellow now and when you're a man you might find these letters of no interest. Or they might never reach you, for any of a number of reasons. Well, but how deeply I regret any sadness you have suffered and how grateful I am in anticipation of any good you have enjoyed. That is to say, I pray for you. And there's an intimacy in it. That's the truth."

-MR 'The Gilead'

what a difference a year makes.

between question and affirmation

"You're successful."

It was somewhere between a question and an affirmation.

"Yes." was my reply.

We will call him John. Ive barely known him. He seems to have formed opinions of me. I'm comfortable with this. His opinions seem positive.

"Do you feel guilty about your success?" This was a question. I think he thought he knew the answer.

No. I work hard." This is truth. "I feel guilty cause I know I can give more." This is also truth.

"I'm thankful. Its raining and its cold. I have a roof over my head, I have a bed, I have a job I love that provides for me. But on my way here I passed several homeless people with tarps and blankets and makeshift tents. Its raining and its cold. I could do more."

I tell John that last week a yoga instructor massaged my neck and shoulders and head while I was laying with my eyes closed at the end of class. It wasn't sexual. I longed for her touch. I realized how long it had been since I had been touched. After class I cried in my car.

I told John about an organization in Portland that meets on thursday nights under the Burnside Bridge. They provide food and blankets and warm clothes to the homeless population that gathers there. They bring large basins in and wash the feet and hair of these men and women. Most wouldn't give much thought to how long some of these people have gone without physical touch, without love, without truly being seen. Telling John almost makes me cry. I dont. Someone told me once if a baby doesn't get touched, doesn't get hugged and kissed and loved, it will die. I believe this. I could give more.

John told me a story about his neighbor. "A nice guy, very successful, very rich" a doctor or lawyer or something that required many years of college. John happened upon the neighbors biography online. It was full of volunteer work. It was full of humanitarian awards. His nice, successful, very rich neighbor gave more.

"You're successful." This time a statement.

"But you haven't lost yourself. You dont let your success go to your head. I dont think you ever will. My neighbor didn't either. The measure of success, wealth, celebrity, is what you do with it. You're on your way, you're aware. You are a good man." The last statement he said as if he knew I forgot sometimes.

John seemed proud of me. It was genuine. He barely knows me.

After we parted, I cried in my car.

Didion's Words

"I stood on an escalator thinking about those days and nights without once thinking I could change their outcome. I realized that since the last morning of 2003, the morning after he died, I had been trying to reverse time, run the film backward.

It was now 8 months later, August 30, 2004, and I still was.

The difference was that all through those eight months I had been trying to substitute an alternate reel. Now I was trying only to reconstruct the collision, the collapse of the dead star."

-JD "The Year of Magical Thinking"

a Christmas Present 'I had NOT sufficiently appreciated' till now.

Vedder's Word

"Once in a while will you try to give
One little thought to me
Though someone else may be
Nearer to your heart?

Will you dream of the moments
I shared with you
Before we drifted apart....
Once in a while?"

-EV, Ukalele Songs

Cunningham's Words

"The wider world perceives fashion as frivolity that should be done away with. The point is that fashion is the armour to survive the reality of everyday life. I don't think you can do away with it, it would be like doing away with civilization."

BILL CUNNINGHAM'S- NEWYORK

In a hopeless place...

"It’s like you’re screamin', but no one can hear.

You almost feel ashamed that someone could be that important, that without them, you feel like nothing.

No one will ever understand how much it hurts.

You feel hopeless, like nothing can save you.

But when it’s over, and it’s gone, you almost wish that you could have all that bad stuff back, so that you could have the good."

-Rihanna's Words

Someone I respect and love just informed me that they "hate the fashion industry"

Honestly, a lot of the time, I do too.

I have frequent thoughts of quitting it all together, traveling around the world with my camera shooting real life and real stories, immersing myself in other cultures.

Capturing: Non Fiction.

However, the following reminders, always boomerang back when I have doubt and frustration filling my heart:

At a very basic level, fashion is simply ART. Expression. Inspiration. The beauty of Gods world shown from my point of view.

I have an opportunity to be a positive influence and conduct myself and my business in a manner that builds people up and gives them an outlet to express themselves.. to make art... to create.

Every aspect of every industry has its dark side.... that is simply the role humanity plays. But for there to be light there needs to be dark, and in that extreme-balance and beauty can be found.

"Meanings change but not the tale"

You emailed me late last night. I read it this morning. It was passionate, yet arrogantly misguided.

You are beautiful. One day, you'll know this on your own.
You wont need another person to tell you... and when you are told, it'll mean that much more.

I read the email and then I drove to your apartment.

I wanted to finish all of this, to end this drama and pain.
But- also- I wanted to see you. Your face is home to me.

I prayed the whole way.

My mouth was dry and my hands were trembling and I contemplated stopping to get a bottle of water.

I didnt stop.

And you werent there. I prayed you wouldnt be. I hoped you were.

I wanted to tell you some things that might surprise you.
I wanted to tell you to make a choice.

To choose him. But if you do choose him, to let go of me completely. To let go of the pain that was caused to you in life. To choose to rise above it.

Youre too stubborn to see that Ive changed. Youre too stubborn to see that Im capable of more. I wanted to tell you to choose me. I could never have said that out loud.

I wanted to tell you that this, is love. We are in the middle of it. You love me and I love you and its messy and its inconvenient, and sometimes it hurts like hell. I wanted to remind you that this is what you wanted. You wanted me to fall in love with you- and I fell. I wonder if I should wish I hadnt. I dont.

Today- I wanted this to end. Proper. I wanted to let you go completely. Ive been trying with all my strength and all my prayers. But I wanted to look into your eyes so we would both know its the truth.

You say that there was only pain... but there was connection and fireworks and laughter and flirtation and faith and so many words. There was an autumn and winter of words that served as our foundation.

From the first email. From the first sip of coffee. That is truth.

I went on a date yesterday. There was none of that. It was disappointing, and I missed you. Conversation that flowed easy for us... was absent. Ill try again. It was proof that we were, we are, real. And that we were not finished.

We are human and imperfect and that is okay. God has us right where he wants us to be. On this very sunny and cold November day a year after you first reached out to me- I was meant to stand on your doorstep and knock to no response... not even the stirring of a sulking cat. Gods will is perfect and we dont know when our journeys might cross again. Maybe never.

Never seems like a waste.

I put you away after we talked the last time. I thought I was falling out of love... I thought I was moving on... Then a picture of you brought it all back and I realized, its all still there. I wonder when the day comes that Ill wake up and not be affected by thoughts of you. When will I not miss you. Youre a phantom to me. You haunt me. In a way, its a romance neither of us ever imagined. The type from bad young adult novels that become overrated yet successful movie franchises. Im in love with a ghost.

There are things only sorrow can teach. And I feel to avoid pain we are only attempting to live shallow lives...

The sadness we feel often reveals to us the things that are most important. Even as I type I wonder if I should keep fighting for you. I wont, but not because of a lack of love, because I respect you too much and dont want to cause you anymore pain.

My sadness revealed my love. It wont matter for me to tell you how important you are. It wont matter for me to dote that you are incredible. You dont believe it... not yet. My prayer for you daily is that one day soon you do.

You said I still have half your heart. You have all of mine- and in words channeled through you from your favorite singer,

"My love for you is real."

"we will gain stability from being unstable."

the thoughts that come when standing on one leg.