{Is This Thing On} Part Dos

After reading through other entries for the Amy Wenzel contest, I feel a little unfinished.  There is SO much more I want to say about how my experience with AIDS helped mold my heart, my mind, and my soul.  Making a point in 600 words or less is harder than it sounds!  Especially with my bottled up thoughts I’ve had swirling around my head for so many years, like fall leaves on a breeze and no appropriate place for them to land.  I took a lighthearted jab at my first post, where maybe I should have went for the jugular.  And now that I ‘ve said the “s-h” word, I need to repent again.  I promised myself that this year I would “shoulda” less and DO more… it’s my initials for goodness sake, just D.O. it!!!   But I digress.  There  is a street full of layers of crunchy, leafy thoughts waiting to be stomped on.  I need to remember that I can only DO it  leaf by leaf; give myself some more of that unstoppable time I spoke of and all will land how, where,  and as it should.

Now more of what I shoulda said.

I shoulda told you it was 1989.  AIDS was a four-letter word.  These were times where people were afraid to shake your hand, sit in a hot tub, use the same restrooms, or even speak face to face with someone with the disease.  It was cryptic and illusive and misunderstood.  Ever since I went through the experience of watching my father die over a span of two and a half years, there was always something more I wanted to do to put a tangible face and a palpable heart to the melancholy and confused world it existed in.  It is still a subject that is surrounded by discomfort, by even the mere mention of that four-letter word.  I am pretty much an open book, but this is one word that awkwardly rolls off the tongue as if it’s coming off the lips of a llama, {spat}ting the receiver straight in the eye.  The reaction is visible and sometimes greeted by stammering sounds and unsure of what to say next.  And although I feel it’s uncomfortable for the listener, I never feel like it’s something I shoulda kept to myself.  It’s my life.  My reality.

There was always something knocking at the door of my teenage soul, wanting to do more for the cause, but could never quite figure out what it was.  There was the AIDS quilt and volunteer work, but that was too close to home at the time.  Really, I just never opened the door.  I never allowed myself to go any deeper into the depths of despair where I spent so many a night wondering how this happened to me… to him… to us.   Yet, never asking why, because I truly believe God never gives us anything we can’t handle, and have gained strength and testimony of this through my trials. But so much clarity of my life in general has come since I lovingly picked up my camera and started focusing on what’s most important in my life and to mend the battle wounds from the beasts of my past. Enjoying the little moments that happen daily while remembering the ones past that formed who I am becoming.  I am blessed with deeper understanding and empathy that would have never been were it not for that four-letter word (and a little more OCD, but we won’t go into that now-Ha!)

As corny as it may sound, that little black box has brought so much clarity.  It has cracked open that door.  I have the tool that will help me to inspire and put a voice to that which is unspoken of so many things.  Whether it be here on US soil with those who suffer from the still often-not-talked-about  four-letter word, AIDS, or whether it be in Africa with the orphaned children affected by the monster.  I have a way to communicate…  I can put a face to it and educate myself and those around me who may not understand how far-reaching it is, or may not want to look it in the face out of fear of the unknown.  I can make the heart of it all beat from every image I create.  I can live in OPEN happiness and tap into the potential we all were given if we just live in the world of possibility.  I will posture the possibilities of dreams and growth, loving and giving.  Photography is more than an art, it is an opportunity to serve by the love we are bound by.

Looking at what can be through a WIDE open door after all.

I see a wide open spaces with no end to the horizon.

I see colorful leaves swirling with passion and purpose.

I see faceless, infinite possibilities of what I will D.O.

I shoulda kept this post shorter.

Bah!  Nobody’s perfect.

Thanks for listening to my 600+ words.  AHEM.

love&simple things=great things,

xoDana

p.s.  Warning:  If I haven’t scared you away yet, there will most likely be a Part tres.  This girl’s got a lot on her mind!!!  😉