The Black Hole

The Black hole

 

 

2am.

You again.

Like a bell that rings,

I salivate and carry on to my cage.

In a daze for days.

Like an animal that lays,

Decays,

Frays.

This phase of this phrase

Which craves a comma to allow for a coma,

A pause to cocoon my way into these words.

Weave.

A rug of rhythm,

Where my head can braid all these bits,

All these pits that I gnawed my way to with my wits.

And here in my cage,

It all sits.

Lately, Frida Kahlo has been following me or perhaps I am following her, but either way we are hot on each other's trails. As she kept appearing, I kept listening for the reason. In one passage of a book that made it's way to my hands, she explained why self portraiture was so prominent in her work. It was because the subject she knew best, was herself.  It made me pause. It's as if her infinite access to herself gave her the ability to bring those less accessible parts to the surface. Those deep dark parts, uncomfortable parts, and the parts in between that sometimes feel vacant causing us to question how to live with still air around our bones. 

As I was reading her words and tracing her work with my fingers, I was reminded of a self portrait series that I photographed on March 3, 2012 in Brooklyn, New York. I was 28 years old and in a deep pit. I called the series 'The Black Hole.' The poem to the left was written a few days before I decided I needed a little more than words to illustrate what was happening in my head.

As Frida kept appearing and this series kept sitting in my head, I was reminded of one thing: vulnerability. Self portraiture is also something that has been part of my work and it's usually because I'm trying to work through something. For this series I was trying to make beautiful something that was deeply painful. Recycle the parts of me that felt scared, wounded, or unsure and turn them into something that felt powerful because the emotions I was feeling were just that. The struggle in these photos is real, the pain is real, but what's more important is that the release is real. The hardness softens as the frames move forward and it's the letting go that makes all the fear disappear.

Where there is fear, there is freedom.

"I paint my own reality. The only thing I know is that I paint because I need to, and I paint whatever passes through my head without any other consideration." –Frida Kahlo
 

June 27, 2017

One month down and infinite to follow.

30 days of distance from when my father transitioned to a different world and changed mine forever. The stretch feels so close and yet so far away. The gap has been filled with countless moments of lurching to the bed, ugly cries, and also complete avoidance for the fear that anything could trigger a meltdown. Grief is personal, grief is difficult, and grief is a ticking time-bomb. 

Some days I want to jump out of bed and conquer the world and other days I want to tangle in the sheets and hide under the covers. There are days when I am so grateful for the time I had with him and the gratitude feels like enough and there are other days when it never feels like enough. Nothing ever feels like enough. 

Comatose,

another dose,

I slipped in when you slipped out.

Cardiac arrest so arresting,

trying to find my beat can be testing.

 

Fill My Empty

Bare Marianna Jamadi

I started this blog four years ago.

I had big dreams of gazing distant lands, indulging in the human experience, and funneling through my own fears in a way that would feel victorious. 

I spent a solid year digesting the world in a way I know best—through words and photos. As I transitioned off the trip and fumbled to find my own footing, I lost a lot of time for digestion. Time for arranging words shrunk as I focused on how to sustain a life and how to turn my life into a dream. As I climbed Maslow's hierarchy of needs, years slipped through me. I would find myself on flights, shuffling through everything that didn't fit in my iCal. Sometimes words would flow, sometimes they would rush, and often my leaky faucet would leave me swollen in my seat. I'd have to put the pipes back together just tight enough so that when the plane would land, my plumbing could carry me to my next adventure with little drips.

This worked pretty well for awhile as I was building and balancing on steady ground. I'd pack my travel-size buckets and catch the droplets before my pipes got too rusty.

But cut to four years later and my plumbing is starting to calcify. 

With my father's recent passing, people from my past resurfaced and I welcomed the trickling in. People whom I loved/love who have known me as a child, a teenager, and a twenty-something trying to find my place all caught me when I was falling to pieces. These are all people who know me in a way that only an old sweater would. They know my rough spots, soft spots, they know the way I curve and how to hug my body. They protect my vulnerabilities and truly know my flesh in the barest of ways. Many of them kept asking me the same question:

"Are you writing?"

It's as if they all knew my path to healing has always been through words. Every time I would be asked this question, my gut gargled. "Why aren't you writing?" I'd ask myself. Has my hand atrophied too much to lift a pen? Maybe I feared that it wasn't my hand but my head that had gone limp. Before I sat down to write this, I had sat down several times with pen, paper, and a heavy head and heart and nothing would spring from my hand. Perhaps that's how grief works or how mourning manifests—through fits and starts.

hand
shadow

So as I find myself in new territory—living in the absolute absence of another, I can only imagine moving through the thick of these muddy waters one word at a time. Using them as paddles to reach shore when I feel like I'm drowning, or to reach an island when I need refuge.

This blog's motto has always been "Live Big," and that also means wide. It means that life is a spectrum and it isn't always so sweet. Life is beautiful but it also has a bite. It's only through each chew that we can digest and recycle pain to convert it into energy to move forward. This blog and these posts going forward will be my bites toward healing and nurturing the parts of me that I've forgotten about along the way.

As I continue to live a somewhat nomadic life, this will be my home, my safe space to release whatever it is that is building up within. 

I will explore experimentation and share this personal journey to find beauty in darkness, find light in mourning, and sweetness in my sorrow.

Where there is pain, I will create, I will make, I will fill my empty.

Just watch, Dad.

 

Cartagena, Colombia PART I

I am back on the road which means I am back.

I spent the last two weeks in Cartagena, Colombia and I am writing this airborne on my way to The Galápagos Islands. (I am posting this a week later as the internet in The Galápagos was near non existent).

There has always been something about being on the move, being up in the air, and in transit that sparks my inner glow. When I travel, I feel like I am everything— expanding at every passport stamp, every person I met, every story I share, every meal I digest.

Leading up to the trip, I was overwhelmed. Do I have everything? What will happen? Am I prepared? I powered through the weeks prior like a bullet train, leaving little room for anything but checklists. 

Once I landed in Cartagena, I could exhale. I felt like I was being reacquainted with a city as well as the nomadic part of me. I quickly dove into the reason why I was back- documenting the dance company Periferia for my VSCO Artist Initiative project. 

As I wandered the colorful streets and found pockets of life, I couldn’t help but realize that while traveling requires momentum, it somehow allows me to slow down. I stayed in the neighborhood Getsemaní and stumbled upon families sitting outside, doors open, music blaring, talking, sharing, eating, etc. Window scenes full of people playing cards, observing the streets, and engaging with each other. I realized that life in Cartagena allowed for time and community. I thought back to my weeks prior, or even months prior of constant hustling, and thought to myself, when was the last time I allowed for time to drip? I was working every day and yet I felt incredibly more calm. The quality of life felt noticeably different.

I thought back to the usual comments I get when I tell/told people that I was going to Colombia.

“Oh, be careful. It’s dangerous there,” or my least favorite response, “Why would you want to go there?” Little do they know what they are missing out on, too afraid to face something foreign to them. I chuckled on my cab ride from the airport as my driver asked me where I was from and when I said LA, his response was, “Oh, it’s dangerous there, no?” “It’s dangerous everywhere,” I replied. Fearing the unknown is natural, avoiding it is likely, but never testing bravery? THAT is dangerous. That is mortal. 

As I’m traveling again for myself, I am evermore sure of the importance of it. Driven to open the eyes of people that are teetering on fear and flying. If that is you, take the leap. It is the best thing you can do for yourself.

That’s my rant.

Let’s get to some good stuff. Like many things, cities, just like people fill a spectrum. There are objectively beautiful parts and subjectively beautiful parts. I’m going to break my next three posts into 1. Objectively beautiful parts 2. Subjectively beautiful parts (which I find most beautiful) and 3. An update on my VSCO project.

As a tourist you will most likely be visiting and spending most of your time in the old walled city of Cartagena. The colonial architecture, the vibrant walls, horse carriages, open air restaurants in plazas, and hanging balconies are incredibly romantic. There are photo opportunities at every corner. 

Intro to Travel Photography e-course on BRIT + CO

I'm excited to announce that my Intro to Travel Photography e-course has launched on Brit + Co.

I'll give you the skinny on the gear I bring, why THIS is the only camera bag I travel with, shooting tips when you are out in the field, how I edit photos, and how you can bring your adventures to life long after you've already returned home with the help of Artifact Uprising.

If you sign up by 3/22, the class is only $33! Also, Artifact Uprising is offering everyone who enrolls 25 free prints. I can't wait to see what you come up with. Tag me on instagram (@nomadic_habit) with your travel photos and tell me what you've learned!

2016

Hello 2016. You look good.

2015, you were a wild beast, so beautiful in your madness. I'm not sure if I spent more time in the country or out of the country but surely I know I was constantly moving. Constantly packing and unpacking, constantly slathering on bug spray, scratching mosquito bites, scratching my brain, boarding planes, getting my passport stamped, taking pictures, taking a breath, taking a moment, taking it all in, but it didn't quite feel like I was ever taking my time. I got swept up in momentum and the pace got to be too fast for me to keep up with Nomadic Habit and there were points that the momentum outpaced me. I began chasing myself. Reaching for my feet as to catch myself. Of course there were times that the momentum felt amazing, like I was riding a wave. Maybe I wasn't catching myself, but I was catching air, and in those moments, there was nothing better than that. I had thrown myself into El Camino, a travel company I had co-founded and I was committed to the hustle. Through it, in 2015, I traveled a lot, met amazing people, and learned so much about the industry and myself. The experience was incredible.

But as life shifted and priorities surfaced, I realized I desperately missed my own work, my own photography, my own words, and this blog. 2016 marks a new chapter for me as I will now be pursuing my own craft and will no longer be committed to El Camino. The decision wasn't an easy one, as many endings are bittersweet, but I feel excited to concentrate on my artistry and look forward to seeing El Camino continue on the path of success.

So with that being said, I can't wait to dive back into this blog. I am eager to share stories, photos, and words with you. 2016 is looking mighty bright. What's on tap?

Heading to Cartagena, Colombia in February to work on my VSCO Artist Initiative project, then it's off to adventure on a trek to Machu Picchu, an Amazon cruise in Peru, and then who knows where the wind will take me.

Where the wind will take me, I will take you.

Happy New Year everyone. Thanks for still following. Thanks for still believing.

THE IMPORTANCE OF JOURNALING

For as long as I can remember, I've had a journal, a space, pages upon pages where I could unleash anything that was living inside me. Journals acted as a secret world, a private canvas where I could fully express myself and then tuck it away for only my eyes. For any major creative project, I like to keep a journal to chronicle the path from start to finish. When VSCO announced I was a recipient of an Artist Initiative grant, I was gifted a journal which will now serve as my creative playground. Instead of keeping it private though, I'm making some of it public. Excitement, worry, doubts, responsibility, all of those feelings live here.

NOMAD feature // BRANDEN PEAK

When I started on my journey up the California coast to document a story of evolution (as seen on VSCO journal) my first stop was Ojai Rancho Inn of Shelter Social Club. Parked in the backyard was an extremely photogenic airstream trailer that I thought was part of the property. It exuded a sort of nostalgia and aesthetic that was fitting. 

Come to find out, it was fitting, just not deliberately part of Ojai Rancho Inn. Inside the lovely beauty, I found Branden Peak who has been traveling in his airstream for about two years. A fellow nomad who has really embraced the art of simple travel and simple living. A trip to Nicaragua spurred his quest to live a simpler life here in the states. 

Branden and I spent the evening chatting about our nomadic experiences and it was clear to me that he is thoughtful in his approach to living, brilliant in the way he sustains himself, and overall has a quality about him that is healing and inspiring to anyone who encounters him.

I sat down with him and spoke candidly about how and why he embraced this lifestyle, the surprises that have come along with it, and the fears that appear and disappear with this territory. Listen to our chat below. 

"Always what I craved was never isolation, it was always expansion." ~ BRANDEN PEAK

Even though Branden may lack the luxury of a walk in closet, he is surely not lacking style. Here he is decked out in TOPO DESIGNS.

Follow Branden along wherever the wind takes him on his instagram @spacetimetimespace