HE DOESN'T SEE YOUR STAINS.

MY SELF-WORTH CANNOT BE TAKEN AT FACE VALUE

Who I am today is a reflection of how I was raised and how my childhood experiences taught me to take delight in the different flaws that make people who they are. We are all swimming in a mud hole of stains, splashing around in abnormal patterns that morph us into magical works of strange but attractive beings. Do we sometimes have trouble getting bogged down in the mire of misperception? 

DIP INTO LIFE
(the humming bird)

~PAINTED by KYNDL AND JP~

*i sing in my imperfect flight with broken wing and the sun shines on all that I am*

                                                                                                                                                                               

                                                                       

A dip into the messy side of life is not always a bad thing. My playground as a child was a mud hole swamp that was located just behind our little house on the hill. Just picture your ideal "secret garden" separate from the entire world. This was my secret swamp garden, a fantasy land of dramatic foliage with colors of green glow in the dark ivy and tall cattail weeds that stood on watch, guarding my fairy tale hideaway. I saw this place as my haven and the protector of my imagination. Those cattails had a striking resemblance to big, brown corn dogs on a stick and after an exhaustive day of play, it was getting close to dinner time and this image made me even hungrier. My favorite thing to do at the mud hole swamp was to go diving in the shallow water for tadpoles. Those slick suckers were so fast and hard to catch. One thing I remember about those days was the sound of the frogs singing, ribbiting with a rising chorus of "catch me if you can." But I was the one who would eventually get caught. My momma was never that happy when I walked in the house with a pocket full of tad poles and dirty clothes that were covered with red Mississippi mud. She said, "You been been swimmin in that dirty swamp again ain't you?" The stains on my clothes from that mud seemed to never wash out but I learned to overlook the stains and so did momma.

YOUR STORY, YOUR STAINS.

The  beautiful copper urn above is covered with magnificent stains. It is an image from David Maisel's picture project. (click the link to read his story)  Library of Dust

I believe that we are not defined by our STAINS, but only by how we choose to view them. 

 My positive view of life has taken me to the heights of joy even when I feel the lows of my very human and imperfect existence. Everyone has their own spotted story of overcoming faulty views of perfection. God loved man from the moment He scooped up the dust to form us. He still loves us even when we struggle and muddle through life. He doesn't see the stains. 

A BROKEN WING IS A BEAUTIFUL THING

'All knowledge is enveloped in darkness. What we perceive are no more than isolated lights in the abyss of ignorance, in the shadow-filled edifice of the world. We study the order of things ... but we cannot grasp their innermost essence.'

                                                                                                   by WG Sebald

"Keep your feet on the ground and your thoughts on lofty HEIGHTS"

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