The Thousand Words Project Update

Well, we are just about halfway through the year, and though I’ve stayed on track with The Thousand Words Project, I haven’t been keeping up on posting here! Time to fix that. So here are my photos and words over the last several months! Entries 14-47.

At just about the halfway point, I’m finding my words and ideas a little stale or forced. I started to lose faith in this project. But in my experience, those feelings usually come just before a big breakthrough, so I’m going to keep going, and remember that sometimes we have the same thoughts and feelings for a really long time, and that’s ok. Constant growth can sometimes be as exhausting as stagnation. We need to ebb and flow.

Sometimes, our tiny pieces are illuminated by the reflected light.

The yearning to begin from a place of safe haven.

A dreamy laziness. Peace. Mindlessness. Warmth and comfort. Focused rest.

Easy trust, raw connection, with the discovery of kindred spirits.

Light gets in, revealing even the dark hidden for centuries.

Artist child: dirty, determined, fearless. The roar of quieting creation.

She wears the secret confidence she has built softly, slowly.

Mourn, gather courage, rise again in absolute awe of possibility.

Waiting, ready to seize unexpected moments glimpsed through obstacles.

Too glorious to ignore. Too brilliant to face directly.

Be open to the risk, curiosity, and chance of co-creation.

Hidden layers of self-reflection in the frames of my subjects.

Now Spring, promising color, warmth, light . . . I'm still here.

Effortless contentment floats down like blue skies and springtime petals.

I am not here, I am not there. I am not NOW.

Just move your feet. Keep going forward. Things will clear.

Time for all, space for more, hovering in the momentum.

Moving backwards, no footing. Soul separate from head and hand.

Between the dreaming and the doing, I wait for opportunity.

Thoughts piling up--stuck at the entrance of the exit.

Stop. Notice. Connect. Validate. Then let go. That is enough.

Should I focus, or is there beauty in the blur?

In the danger of the otherworldly, I find my place.

Inside the critical point, struggling through the surreal. Growing still.

Shadow time, caught in the comfort between ennui and dread.

To feel time passing. To be part light and shadow.

The deep, where the shapes begin, becoming solid through scrutiny.

We move, cautious, into the energy of the uncertain next.

Deliberately careless moments of still, quiet, open reflection. Just exist.

Summer days, easy and slow, watching shadows on the fence.

It doesn't arrive--the future. It creeps. It develops. Wait.

The mundane creates the context for the incredible, the meaningful.

Reaching toward the idea until I become the idea itself.

In the formidable tasks, we are rewarded with unanticipated beauty.