there is no survival without surrender

This morning I'm thinking about change. I'm exactly two weeks away from moving into a new little house in one of my favorite towns with my partner. I will FINALLY be shooting film again on my beautiful new baby, an olympus stylus epic zoom 80 (shout out to aforementioned partner, again, for being a true Christmas angel and exhibiting extreme patience and kindness in the face of extensive USPS delays.) I've been out of commission since October and it's left a not-so-tiny hole in my heart. And with that new camera comes a new logo! My wonderful, talented friend Patrick was commissioned to create a new HAZY HEAT logo as my other gift (how lucky am I?). I'm singing and playing guitar more, making me feel like a new person and my old self simultaneously. There have been more honest converations with friends, more planning, more creative ideas I want to bring to life. At the same time, people in my life around me are going through changes too. One day I'll hear from a friend with news worth celebrating and the next day another friend will have something painful to share. We all know the world is changing day by day. Topsy turvy would be an understatement. 

With that said, I'm feeling hopeful in a way that doesn't feel fleeting, which is a huge change in itself. It feels grounded and rational, which might sound deflated but it's really not at all. I have always had a problem letting myself be too happy -- where's the catch, right? How and when will it disappear, and how much will it hurt? Always in survival mode. Therapy is teaching me that living in survival mode does not serve me anymore. It's not where I need to be. This doesn't mean life is necessarily getting easier, or that there won't be stretches of time where surviving is all I can do. What it does mean is that there is so much more room for me to thrive in my own life, more room than I thought could exist. So much room for change that I realize, as I strip away the layers of self-doubt and mental struggle, I am ready very much ready to embrace. 

Photos taken early October 2020, some of the very last on my old Pentax. I take pictures as a way to process, capture, express myself and my life. It's been many months of change, even when I didn't realize it, and in the strangest way taking these photos made me feel less alone. Change is a part of survival, but it also requires personal surrender. It's all a part of the process.