mind doodles under the sun

I feel the hay tickling between my fingers while the oh so familiar smell fills my heart with golden memories. The bunnies are playing in the garden. I watch them jump, run and play while I finish cleaning their little house. The weather is good today and it is what I needed. Mom and dad are also working in the garden and it feels like it used to. Spring is coming.

"Mom?"
"Yes?"
"Can we make pancakes tonight? It would finish this day off perfectly."
"Oh, sure!"

Yes, now it is perfect.
I set myself down in the grass. It's still a little wet but the warmth of the sun is making up for it. I watch my bunnies go crazy and while I'm smiling because of it I think of the things that are happening in my life.
My job is going well. I love the children at the daycare centre and I miss them when I'm not at work.
I make things for them and prepare surprises and activities. I love it. I photograph them and post them on the facebook page and it makes me feel full. Because it is what I do. I photograph life and I feel lost when I don't.
But then again, I feel like a marionette. A mainstream part of society. I work for someone else now and my blog, drawing, story making and photographing is falling behind because of it. My dreams are pushed aside so I feel like all the others. "I have no time. Busy busy busy." The typical.

I cuddle Kato, my little crazy fluff ball while my mind wanders further off.

Change is making its way up to me again and I realize how hard it is on me every time.
T is preparing himself to move to his own place (he lives with me and my parents now) and I will join him later.
For me it is as exiting as it is frightening.
Will it change our relationship? Will it get weaker, stronger? Am I overthinking? Probably.

I make the dough while mom prepares the pans. T hugs me from behind and tells me he loves me. I love him too. I am so grateful to be able to love.

Afternoon at the theatre

Model: Sofie Dhaens

Cocooning night

I drop off Tybo at the cinema where he meets his friends.
When I turn on the highway again I notice that now I don't want to be alone after all. Although I know it is really important to set things straight for myself I already miss him.
But I don't want to be surrounded by people tonight, so I go home.

The familiar sound of raindrops accompany the thousands of thoughts seeping through Loreena Mckenneths love songs but tonight they don't give me peace. It's like I can't pause my thoughts and I can't keep up with them so I know the first thing I need to do when I get home is write.

I finally found a permanent job and although I'm happy with that, it's very heavy. I work at the children day care centre where I worked earlier this year. But there are too few staff members for many children and because of a new boss much has to be changed. I can put my head just about around it but I feel that every thing that overcomes me besides work is much to handle.
My photography and my blog have to step aside because of the long days at work and it makes me feel mainstream. Like I am one of the millions of peaces of society like the big guys have created it. I absolutely hate it. I want to love, see, feel and tell! I want to discover and write it all down. I want to catch moments and feel light as the fairy I can be within myself.

The words I had with my love this morning were also much. I know we work it out every time and I know the make up hugs are the best right then and there, but the chaos isn't leaving my mind. He knows that and I am happy he does.

I close the front door and follow the words flying around my head into the living room.
"Time for a little cocooning, dear?" Says my mother. She always knows when I'm not at peace and it's so comforting. I am not alone.
"Yes, lots of it." I answer her with a light smile.
I go upstairs and catch the words "how the hell can I handle this all?" and build on them.
Most of the time I handle things on my own, but other times I drown in chaos and I get stuck. Today is such a day.

I put on my fox pajamas that my mother made for me and crawl into bed. Scaring away the words in my head doesn't help, so I keep hem in, trying to silence them instead. Hoping I fall asleep soon so tomorrow can welcome me with open arms, telling me it will be all just fine, that he is new, as will the next day, and the day after be. I hug my pillow and close my eyes.

Dear mom and dad

I've been thinking of a thousand words to write to you.
It is midnight and I am tired but too loaded with thoughts to go to sleep. So I write again.
And now it is to you.

I've just ended one of the many peaceful but strong late night conversations with dad and after every such treasured moment I realize how lucky I am. Every single time I get overflowed by thankfulness and security. It is something I really need to find my way in this jungle people call the world.
And the people of that world often tell me how wonderful my parents are. And I tell them they are right and as I do, that same little happy thankfulness fairy comes fluttering by, just to sit on my shoulder, saying nothing, just smiling proudly. And I realize that I never tell you that.

You always give me wisdom and I honestly can't wait to watch you at 90 years old, sitting in your rocking chair, listening to that same wisdom song. Completing each other and us, my brothers and I.
I am imagining and feeling a little butterfly in my tummy doing it.

Thank you for holding me, carrying me when I was little,
thank you for coming with me into my world of imagination and overly unrealistic stories,
thank you for listening to my little girl problems,
thank you for holding my fiddlestick so I could learn how to hold my fingers on my very first violin,
thank you for being home every single time we got home from school so you could listen to our adventures,
thank you for letting me have my phases,
thank you for encouraging me in everything that I do,
thank you for letting me experience every single emotion there is to feel,
thank you for holding my hands on both sides when I had that horrible first year of college,
thank you for helping me clean my (artistic) messy room,
thank you for listening to puberal boy dramas and for letting me have the tears and hugs when I needed them,
thank you for driving to Ghent every single week or even day to comfort me because yet again the teachers at the art graduate school put me and my photography down big time,
thank you for listening to my big girl problems,
thank you for dragging me through my first breakup with all the love you had in you,
thank you for letting me disappear for a while, just as long as I needed to,
thank you for being there when I am lonely,
thank you for letting me find the artist, collector and dreamer that seems to be me,
thank you for listening to my rambling and fascination about this beautiful boy I met,
thank you for accepting the love, my love that he is today,
thank you for being my greatest example.

Thank you for loving me and being there every single time and more.

God damnit, I love you.

Lots of love,
Tineke